e it grows dark, that I may know my ground to-morrow,
and I think that I shall put this horseshoe into my pocket for luck."

Colonel Ross, who had shown some signs of impatience at my companion's
quiet and systematic method of work, glanced at his watch. "I wish you
would come back with me, Inspector," said he. "There are several points
on which I should like your advice, and especially as to whether we do
not owe it to the public to remove our horse's name from the entries for
the Cup."

"Certainly not," cried Holmes, with decision. "I should let the name
stand."

The Colonel bowed. "I am very glad to have had your opinion, sir," said
he. "You will find us at poor Straker's house when you have finished
your walk, and we can drive together into Tavistock."

He turned back with the Inspector, while Holmes and I walked slowly
across the moor. The sun was beginning to sink behind the stables of
Mapleton, and the long, sloping plain in front of us was tinged with
gold, deepening into rich, ruddy browns where the faded ferns and
brambles caught the evening light. But the glories of the landscape were
all wasted upon my companion, who was sunk in the deepest thought.

"It's this way, Watson," said he at last. "We may leave the question
of who killed John Straker for the instant, and confine ourselves to
finding out what has become of the horse. Now, supposing that he broke
away during or after the tragedy, where could he have gone to? The horse
is a very gregarious creature. If left to himself his instincts would
have been either to return to King's Pyland or go over to Mapleton. Why
should he run wild upon the moor? He would surely have been seen by now.
And why should gypsies kidnap him? These people always clear out when
they hear of trouble, for they do not wish to be pestered by the police.
They could not hope to sell such a horse. They would run a great risk
and gain nothing by taking him. Surely that is clear."

"Where is he, then?"

"I have already said that he must have gone to King's Pyland or to
Mapleton. He is not at King's Pyland. Therefore he is at Mapleton. Let
us take that as a working hypothesis and see what it leads us to. This
part of the moor, as the Inspector remarked, is very hard and dry. But
it falls away towards Mapleton, and you can see from here that there
is a long hollow over yonder, which must have been very wet on Monday
night. If our supposition is correct, then the horse must have cross