"Look," he said, "it's been stamped upon--by a man wearing hob-nailed boots--made in Ireland--a man of five feet nine and a half inches high----" "One minute, Mr.Kent," interrupted the Inspector, greatly excited, "I don't quite get it." "The depth of the dint proves the lift of his foot," said Kent impatiently, "and the lift of the foot indicates at once the man's height.

Edwards, find me the man who wore these boots and the mystery is solved!" At that very moment a heavy step, unmistakably to the trained ear that of a man in hob-nailed boots, was heard upon the stair.

The door opened and a man stood hesitating in the doorway.
Both Kent and Edwards gave a start, two starts, of surprise.
The man was exactly five feet nine and a half inches high.

He was dressed in coachman's dress.

His face was saturnine and evil.
It was Dennis, the coachman of the murdered man.
"If you're Mr.Kent," he said, "there's a lady here asking for you.".