"I'm rather sceptical about the magnifying-glass stunts you get in detective novels," he muttered, "but I want an extra-special look at this floor-covering.
"No," he said as he arose, "I can't see any signs of any struggle--there are no scratches that would evade the naked eye, of feet moved uncontrollably like in a fight or wrestle. And what is more, Bill, I particularly noticed when Marshall gave the alarm, that although Prescott's brown shoes were muddy--there was no trace of any mud on the floor here. Think of that, laddie."
"Hardly likely, Bill! There was an appreciable amount of mud on the brown shoes, and one would reasonably expect to find a few traces if Prescott had been engaged in a struggle. In a fight or a wrestle--such as might have taken place here, there is far more pressure of the feet on the ground and certainly more friction than is got by ordinary walking--don't you see?"
"Yes," I conceded. "I see what you mean."
"Yet," he went on, "I am certain that there were no mud-marks on the floor. Which suggests a number of entertaining possibilities." He frowned.
"You haven't told me yet," I urged, "of those three definite clues you picked up right at the outset. Still liking the look of them? I'm curious!"
"One of 'em has been dragged to light, Bill, and I'm very satisfied with its results--the other two I'm still keeping--for the time being at all events."
I felt annoyed. All faithful Watsons were not treated in this cavalier manner. They were always admitted willingly and readily into the confidential intimacies. I voiced a complaint. I thought a semi-humorous strain might become the matter best.
"How, my dear Anthony," I began, "can you reasonably expect to be guided by the best gleams of my superlative intelligence and highly-powered imagination, if you persist in withholding important information from me?" He flashed a smile at me. Then his face took on a more serious aspect.
"Pardon me, Bill--not exactly information. You have seen the same things as I have seen--I'm keeping nothing from you--the difference is that a certain two points made a vivid impression on me--and they didn't on you."
"All right, then," I returned, "I plead guilty. What were they?"
"If I tell you, Bill, and eventually we find that their significance was much less than I imagine, you'll never believe in me again--and I can't possibly run the risk of that."