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Page 34
"They went over everything - the ground outside and every inch of
the house. Then they put everybody out and sat down by a table
in the room where the footprints were.
"Sir Henry had been awfully careful. He had a big lens with
which to examine the marks of the bloody footprints. He was like
a man on the trail of a buried treasure. He shouted over
everything, thrust his glass into Mr. Meadows' hand and bade him
verify what he had seen. His ardor was infectious. I caught it
myself.
"Mr. Meadows, in his quiet manner, was just as much concerned in
unraveling the thing as Sir Henry. I never had so wild a time in
all my life. Finally, when Sir Henry put everybody else out and
closed the door, and the three of us sat down at the table to try
to untangle the thing, I very nearly screamed with excitement.
Mr. Meadows sat with his arms folded, not saying a word; but Sir
Henry went ahead with his explanation."
The girl looked like a vivid portrait, the soft colors of her
gown and all the cool, vivid extravagancies of youth
distinguished in her. Her words indicated fervor and excited
energy; but they were not evidenced in her face or manner. She
was cool and lovely. One would have thought that she recounted
the inanities of a curate's tea party.
The aged man, in the khaki uniform of a major of yeomanry,
remained in his position at the window. The old woman sat with
her implacable face, unchanging like a thing insensible and
inorganic.
This unsympathetic aspect about the girl did not seem to disturb
her. She went on:
"The thing was thrilling. It was better than any theater - the
three of us at the old mahogany table in the room, and the
Scotland Yard patrol outside.
"Sir Henry was bubbling over with his theory. `I read this
riddle like a printed page,' he said. `It will be the work of a
little band of expert cracksmen that the Continent has kindly
sent us. We have had some samples of their work in Brompton
Road. They are professional crooks of a high order - very clever
at breaking in a door, and, like all the criminal groups that we
get without an invitation from over the Channel, these crooks
have absolutely no regard for human life.'
"That's the way Sir Henry led off with his explanation. Of
course he had all that Scotland Yard knew about criminal groups
to start him right. It was a good deal to have the identity of
the criminal agents selected out; but I didn't see how he was
going to manage to explain the mystery from the evidence. I was
wild to hear him. Mr. Meadows was quite as interested, I
thought, although he didn't say a word.
"Sir Henry nodded, as though he took the American's confirmation
as a thing that followed. `We are at the scene,' he said, `of
one of the most treacherous acts of all criminal drama. I mean
the "doing in," as our criminals call it, of the unprofessional
accomplice. It's a regulation piece of business with the
hard-and-fast criminal organizations of the Continent, like the
Nervi of Marseilles, or the Lecca of Paris.
"`They take in a house servant, a shopkeeper's watchman, or a
bank guard to help them in some big haul. Then they lure him
into some abandoned house, under a pretense of dividing up the
booty, and there put him out of the way. That's what's happened
here. It's a common plan with these criminal groups, and clever
of them. The picked-up accomplice would be sure to let the thing
out. For safety the professionals must "do him in" at once,
straight away after the big job, as a part of what the barrister
chaps call the res gestae.'
"Sir Henry went on nodding at us and drumming the palm of his
hand on the edge of the table.
"`This thing happens all the time,' he said, `all about, where
professional criminals are at work. It accounts for a lot of
mysteries that the police cannot make head or tail of, like this
one, for example. Without our knowledge of this sinister custom,
one could not begin or end with an affair like this.
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