sunk in the deepest thought. Now he rose and rang the bell. “Ames,” he said, when the butler entered, “where is Mr. Cecil Barker now?”
“I’ll see, Sir.”
He came back in a moment to say that Barker was in the garden.
“Can you remember, Ames, what Mr. Barker had on his feet last night when you joined him in the study?”
“Yes, Mr. Holmes. He had a pair of bedroom slippers. I brought him his boots when he went for the police.”
“Where are the slippers now?”
“They are still under the chair in the hall.”
“Very good, Ames. It is, of course, important for us to know which tracks may be Mr. Barker’s and which from outside.”
“Yes, Sir. I may say that I noticed that the slippers were stained with blood—so indeed were my own.”
“That is natural enough, considering the condition of the room. Very good, Ames. We will ring if we want you.”
A few minutes later we were in the study. Holmes had brought with him the carpet slippers
