His eyes shone, and his cheek was flushed with the exhilaration of themaster workman who sees his work lie ready before him. A very differentHolmes, this active, alert man, from the introspective and palliddreamer of Baker Street. I felt, as I looked upon that supple figure,alive with nervous energy, that it was indeed a strenuous day thatawaited us.
And yet it opened in the blackest disappointment. With high hopes westruck across the peaty, russet moor, intersected with a thousand sheeppaths, until we came to the broad, light-green belt which marked themorass between us and Holdernesse. Certainly, if the lad had gonehomewards, he must have passed this, and he could not pass it withoutleaving his traces. But no sign of him or the German could be seen. Witha darkening face my friend strode along the margin, eagerly observantof every muddy stain upon the mossy surface. Sheep-marks there werein profusion, and at one place, some miles down, cows had left theirtracks. Nothing more.
"Check number one," said Holmes, looking gloomily over the rollingexpanse of the moor. "There is another morass down yonder and a narrowneck between. Halloa! halloa! halloa! what have we here?"
We had come on a small black ribbon of pathway. In the middle of it,clearly marked on the sodden soil, was the track of a bicycle.
"Hurrah!" I cried. "We have it."
But Holmes was shaking his head, and his face was puzzled and expectantrather than joyous.
"A bicycle, certainly, but not THE bicycle," said he. "I am familiarwith forty-two different impressions left by tyres. This, as youperceive, is a Dunlop, with a patch upon the outer cover. Heidegger'styres were Palmer's, leaving longitudinal stripes. Aveling, themathematical master, was sure upon the point. Therefore, it is notHeidegger's track."
"The boy's, then?"
"Possibly, if we could prove a bicycle to have been in his possession.But this we have utterly failed to do. This track, as you perceive, wasmade by a rider who was going from the direction of the school."
"Or towards it?"
"No, no, my dear Watson. The more deeply sunk impression is, of course,the hind wheel, upon which the weight rests. You perceive several placeswhere it has passed across and obliterated the more shallow mark of thefront one. It was undoubtedly heading away from the school. It may ormay not be connected with our inquiry, but we will follow it backwardsbefore we go any farther."
We did so, and at the end of a few hundred yards lost the tracks aswe emerged from the boggy portion of the moor. Following the pathbackwards, we picked out another spot, where a spring trickled acrossit. Here, once again, was the mark of the bicycle, though nearlyobliterated by the hoofs of cows. After that there was no sign, butthe path ran right on into Ragged Shaw, the wood which backed on to theschool. From this wood the cycle must have emerged. Holmes sat down ona boulder and rested his chin in his hands. I had smoked two cigarettesbefore he moved.
"Well, well," said he, at last. "It is, of course, possible that acunning man might change the tyre of his bicycle in order to leaveunfamiliar tracks. A criminal who was capable of such a thought is a manwhom I should be proud to do business with. We will leave this questionundecided and hark back to our morass again, for we have left a gooddeal unexplored."
We continued our systematic survey of the edge of the sodden portionof the moor, and soon our perseverance was gloriously rewarded. Rightacross the lower part of the bog lay a miry path. Holmes gave a cryof delight as he approached it. An impression like a fine bundle oftelegraph wires ran down the centre of it. It was the Palmer tyre.
"Here is Herr Heidegger, sure enough!" cried Holmes, exultantly. "Myreasoning seems to have been pretty sound, Watson."
"I congratulate you."
"But we have a long way still to go. Kindly walk clear of the path. Nowlet us follow the trail. I fear that it will not lead very far."
We found, however, as we advanced that this portion of the moor isintersected with soft patches, and, though we frequently lost sight ofthe track, we always succeeded in picking it up once more.
"Do you observe," said Holmes, "that the rider is now undoubtedlyforcing the pace? There can be no doubt of it. Look at this impression,where you get both tyres clear. The one is as deep as the other.That can only mean that the rider is throwing his weight on to thehandle-bar, as a man does when he is sprinting. By Jove! he has had afall."
There was a broad, irregular smudge covering some yards of the track.Then there were a few footmarks, and the tyre reappeared once more.
"A side-slip," I suggested.
Holmes held up a crumpled branch of flowering gorse. To my horror Iperceived that the yellow blossoms were all dabbled with crimson. On thepath, too, and among the heather were dark stains of clotted blood.
"Bad!" said Holmes. "Bad! Stand clear, Watson! Not an unnecessaryfootstep! What do I read here? He fell wounded, he stood up, heremounted, he proceeded. But there is no other track. Cattle on thisside path. He was surely not gored by a bull? Impossible! But I see notraces of anyone else. We must push on, Watson. Surely with stains aswell as the track to guide us he cannot escape us now."
Our search was not a very long one. The tracks of the tyre began tocurve fantastically upon the wet and shining path. Suddenly, as Ilooked ahead, the gleam of metal caught my eye from amid the thick gorsebushes. Out of them we dragged a bicycle, Palmer-tyred, one pedal bent,and the whole front of it horribly smeared and slobbered with blood. Onthe other side of the bushes a shoe was projecting. We ran round, andthere lay the unfortunate rider. He was a tall man, full bearded, withspectacles, one glass of which had been knocked out. The cause of hisdeath was a frightful blow upon the head, which had crushed in part ofhis skull. That he could have gone on after receiving such an injurysaid much for the vitality and courage of the man. He wore shoes, butno socks, and his open coat disclosed a night-shirt beneath it. It wasundoubtedly the German master.
Holmes turned the body over reverently, and examined it with greatattention. He then sat in deep thought for a time, and I could seeby his ruffled brow that this grim discovery had not, in his opinion,advanced us much in our inquiry.
"It is a little difficult to know what to do, Watson," said he, at last."My own inclinations are to push this inquiry on, for we have alreadylost so much time that we cannot afford to waste another hour. On theother hand, we are bound to inform the police of the discovery, and tosee that this poor fellow's body is looked after."
"I could take a note back."
"But I need your company and assistance. Wait a bit! There is a fellowcutting peat up yonder. Bring him over here, and he will guide thepolice."
I brought the peasant across, and Holmes dispatched the frightened manwith a note to Dr. Huxtable.
"Now, Watson," said he, "we have picked up two clues this morning. Oneis the bicycle with the Palmer tyre, and we see what that has led to.The other is the bicycle with the patched Dunlop. Before we start toinvestigate that, let us try to realize what we DO know so as to makethe most of it, and to separate the essential from the accidental."