How comes this here ?" There were no footsteps in the sand beside his own, therefore the miscreant or miscreants must have escaped in some other direction.
"Aha!" said he, presently looking up.

"They may be up there." And he leapt actively to the beetling summit.
"Better and better," said he, looking round him and observing a hoof mark in the yielding clay, of which he promptly took a plaster cast.
"Another link, ha, ha! the murderer was a horseman!" And he sat down and wrote a lucid report on the whole case for his sergeant.
Solomon Smellie was in luck assuredly! Scarcely had he concluded his literary labour, when, at a distance, he perceived a twinkling light.
"Ha, ha!" said he, "now see how the real artist in crime works.

Yonder is a light.

The murderer cannot have gone that way.

Therefore he has gone this." And he stepped into the railway station just as Sep's train steamed out.
"Too late, this time," muttered he, between his teeth.