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“Footprints-s-s!” he hissed dramatically.

Charlie seized the light and knelt on the sand. “True enough, Kashimo,” he remarked. “These are footprints, and peculiar ones, too. Shoes were old and battered, the heels are worn down unevenly, and in sole of one shoe was most unfashionable hole.” He stood up. “I fear that fortune has not been smiling on owner of that footwear,” he added.

“I am one to find things,” remarked Kashimo proudly.

“You are,” smiled Charlie, “and for once you do not destroy clue the moment you come upon it. You are learning, Kashimo. Warm congratulations.”

They returned to the lawn of Shelah Fane’s house. “Well, Charlie, this is up to you,” the deputy said. “I’ll see you early in the morning—unless you want me to stay.”

“Your duty is accomplished,” Chan answered, “or will be when you have made proper arrangements in city. Body will of course be taken at once to mortuary.”

“Certainly,” the deputy replied. “Well, good-by—and good luck.”

Chan turned to Kashimo. “Now great opportunity arises for you to perform your specialty,” he said.

“Yes-s-s,” Kashimo answered eagerly.

“Go to house, inquire for bedroom of Miss Shelah Fane, and search———”

“I go now,” cried Kashimo, leaping away.

“Stop!” commanded Charlie. “You are one grand apprentice detective, Kashimo, but you never pause to inquire what it is you sleuth for. On table of that room you will find large portfolio of photographs. I very much desire to see portrait of gentleman mounted on mat that is colored Nile green———”