John Thorndykes Cases | Page 4

short stride.
What do you make of that?" He laid down his stick--a smooth partridge
cane, one side of which was marked by small lines into inches and
feet--beside the footprints to demonstrate the discrepancy.
"The depth of the footprints shows that he was a much heavier man
than either of us," I suggested; "perhaps he was unusually fat."
"Yes," said Thorndyke, "that seems to be the explanation. The carrying
of a dead weight shortens the stride, and fat is practically a dead weight.
The conclusion is that he was about five feet ten inches high, and
excessively fat." He picked up his cane, and we resumed our walk,
keeping an eye on the procession ahead until it had disappeared round a
curve in the coast-line, when we mended our pace somewhat. Presently
we reached a small headland, and, turning the shoulder of cliff, came
full upon the party which had preceded us. The men had halted in a
narrow bay, and now stood looking down at a prostrate figure beside
which the surgeon was kneeling.
"We were wrong, you see," observed Thorndyke. "He has not fallen
over the cliff, nor has he been washed up by the sea. He is lying above
high-water mark, and those footprints that we have been examining
appear to be his."
As we approached, the sergeant turned and held up his hand.
"I'll ask you not to walk round the body just now, gentlemen," he said.
"There seems to have been foul play here, and I want to be clear about
the tracks before anyone crosses them."
Acknowledging this caution, we advanced to where the constables were
standing, and looked down with some curiosity at the dead man. He
was a tall, frail-looking man, thin to the point of emaciation, and
appeared to be about thirty-five years of age. He lay in an easy posture,
with half-closed eyes and a placid expression that contrasted strangely
enough with the tragic circumstances of his death.
"It is a clear case of murder," said Dr. Burrows, dusting the sand from

his knees as he stood up. "There is a deep knife-wound above the heart,
which must have caused death almost instantaneously."
"How long should you say he has been dead, Doctor?" asked the
sergeant.
"Twelve hours at least," was the reply. "He is quite cold and stiff."
[Illustration: PLAN OF ST. BRIDGET'S BAY.
+ Position of body. D D D, Tracks of Hearn's shoes. A, Top of
Shepherd's Path. E, Tracks of the nailed shoes. B, Overhanging cliff. F,
Shepherd's Path ascending shelving cliff. C, Footpath along edge of
cliff.]
"Twelve hours, eh?" repeated the officer. "That would bring it to about
six o'clock this morning."
"I won't commit myself to a definite time," said Dr. Burrows hastily. "I
only say not less than twelve hours. It might have been considerably
more."
"Ah!" said the sergeant. "Well, he made a pretty good fight for his life,
to all appearances." He nodded at the sand, which for some feet around
the body bore the deeply indented marks of feet, as though a furious
struggle had taken place. "It's a mighty queer affair," pursued the
sergeant, addressing Dr. Burrows. "There seems to have been only one
man in it--there is only one set of footprints besides those of the
deceased--and we've got to find out who he is; and I reckon there won't
be much trouble about that, seeing the kind of trade-marks he has left
behind him."
"No," agreed the surgeon; "there ought not to be much trouble in
identifying those boots. He would seem to be a labourer, judging by the
hob-nails."
"No, sir; not a labourer," dissented the sergeant. "The foot is too small,
for one thing; and then the nails are not regular hob-nails. They're a

good deal smaller; and a labourer's boots would have the nails all round
the edges, and there would be iron tips on the heels, and probably on
the toes too. Now these have got no tips, and the nails are arranged in a
pattern on the soles and heels. They are probably shooting-boots or
sporting shoes of some kind." He strode to and fro with his notebook in
his hand, writing down hasty memoranda, and stooping to scrutinize
the impressions in the sand. The surgeon also busied himself in noting
down the facts concerning which he would have to give evidence,
while Thorndyke regarded in silence and with an air of intense
preoccupation the footprints around the body which remained to testify
to the circumstances of the crime.
"It is pretty clear, up to a certain point," the sergeant observed, as he
concluded his investigations, "how the affair happened, and it is pretty
clear, too, that the murder was premeditated. You see, Doctor, the
deceased gentleman, Mr. Hearn, was apparently walking