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I passed round the garden without seeing anything more than

random tracks, which I took to be the police; but when I got into

the stable lane a very long and complex story was written in the

snow in front of me.

"There was a double line of tracks of a booted man, and a second

double line which I saw with delight belonged to a man with naked

feet. I was at once convinced from what you had told me that the

latter was your son. The first had walked both ways, but the

other had run swiftly, and as his tread was marked in places over

the depression of the boot, it was obvious that he had passed

after the other. I followed them up and found they led to the

hall window, where Boots had worn all the snow away while

waiting. Then I walked to the other end, which was a hundred

yards or more down the lane. I saw where Boots had faced round,

where the snow was cut up as though there had been a struggle,

and, finally, where a few drops of blood had fallen, to show me

that I was not mistaken. Boots had then run down the lane, and

another little smudge of blood showed that it was he who had been

hurt.