hands and knees."

Distin looked sallow and troubled now, and kept on darting furtive looks
at those about, several of the men having stopped back to see what the
constable might find.

"Don't see no steps but his," said the constable, who seemed to be
keenly observant for so rustic-looking a man. "Hah, that's where he
come down, regularly slipped, you see."

He pointed to the shelving bank of chalk, on the top of which the
beeches began, and over which their long, lithe branches drooped.

"Steady, please. I'll go on here by myself with you two gents. You see
as no one else follows till I give leave."

The second constable nodded, and the bank was climbed, the rector
telling Distin to hold out a hand to help him--a hand that was very wet
and cold, feeling something like the tail of a codfish.

Here the constable had no difficulty in finding Vane's track over the
dead leaves and beech-mast for some distance, and then he uttered an
ejaculation as he pounced upon a broken stick, one of the pieces being
stained with blood.

"It's getting warm," he said. "Oh, yes, don't come forward, gentlemen.
Here we are: ground's all trampled and kicked up, and what's this here?
Little trowel and a basket and--"

He turned over the contents of the basket with a puzzled expression.

"Aren't taters," he said, holding the basket to the rector.

"No, my man, they are truffles."

"Oh, yes, sir, I can see they're trifles."

"Truffles, my man, troofles," said the rector. "The poor fellow must
have been digging them up."

"But no one wouldn't interfere with him for digging up that stuff, sir.
I mean keepers or the like. And there's been two of 'em here, simminly.
Oh, yes, look at the footmarks, only they don't tell no tales. I like
marks in soft mud, where you can tell the size, and what nails was in
the boots. Stuff like this shows nothing. Halloo, again."

"Found something else?" cried the rector excitedly.

"Bits o' broken glass, sir,--glass bottle. There's a lot of bits
scattered about."

The constable searched about the grass of the beech grove where the
struggle had taken place, but not being gifted with the extraordinary
eyes and skill of an American Indian, he failed to find the track of
Vane's assailants going and coming, and he was about to give up when the
rector pointed to a couple of places amongst the dead leaves which
looked as if two hands had torn up some of the dead leaves.

"Ay, that's someat," s