Free The Incident at Fives Castle (An Angela Marchmont Mystery #5) by Clara Benson

length it was agreed that they would try that way first, and they set off. The path led through a tunnel of bare-branched trees which was bounded by a fence on one side and a dark, rushing stream on the other, and their progress was delayed for some minutes as the boys occupied themselves with throwing sticks into the water and trying to overturn an interesting-looking rock.
    ‘Look out for signs,’ said Gus as they reluctantly moved on. ‘He might have tied his handkerchief to a fence-post, or left a trail of breadcrumbs. That’s what I should do if I were lost in the snow.’
    ‘There’s no use in looking for footprints, anyhow,’ said Bobby. ‘Why, this whole path has already been trampled all over by people coming from the village to help get things ready for this evening.’
    ‘That’s true enough,’ said Gus, staring in disgust at the many sets of footprints which indicated that a steady stream of people had passed towards the castle that day. ‘They’ve ruined any chance we might have had of finding the professor’s tracks.’
    ‘And wouldn’t someone have found him by now if he’d come along this way?’ said Bobby. They stopped and stared at each other uncertainly.
    ‘Perhaps we ought to try somewhere else, then,’ said Gus.
    ‘Oh, but look,’ said Angela, who had seen something just ahead. She pointed.
    ‘Oh!’ said Bobby. ‘Footprints!’
    In this particular spot the stream moved away from the path to take a sharp detour around a large alder tree. Most of the footprints continued straight along the footpath towards the castle, but one set broke away and crossed the snow towards the stream.
    The three of them gazed at the marks. Judging by the size of them, they had been made by a man.
    ‘Look,’ said Angela. ‘They continue on the other side of the stream. He must have tramped about a bit here while he held onto the tree for balance and used that rock as a stepping-stone.’
    The boys were excited.
    ‘It must be the professor!’ exclaimed Bobby.
    ‘And look, he fell in the stream!’ said Gus. He pointed to the other bank. There, the mess of tracks did indeed indicate that whoever it was had jumped from the snow-covered rock to the other side and then slipped backwards into the water.
    ‘He must have got soaked,’ said Angela.
    Bobby snorted.
    ‘What a duffer,’ he said, and before Angela could stop him, leapt lightly onto the stepping-stone and then to the other side of the stream. Gus followed.
    ‘I don’t know if I can do that,’ said Angela, in some embarrassment. ‘I’m not as sure-footed as you two.’
    ‘Oh, but it’s easy,’ Bobby assured her, jumping back and forth several times to demonstrate.
    ‘I could tie the rope to this tree here and throw it across to you, in case you lose your balance,’ suggested Gus, after a moment’s thought.
    Angela agreed to this, and Gus immediately fastened one end of the rope to a sturdy-looking tree that overhung the water.
    ‘There,’ he said. ‘That’s fast enough. Now, look out.’
    He threw the line across the stream to Angela, who caught it and, taking a deep breath, sprang as lightly as she could onto the stepping-stone, and then to the other bank without mishap.
    ‘You see, you didn’t need it after all,’ said Bobby kindly. ‘If you got a little more practice you could do it as easily as we do.’
    ‘I dare say you’re right,’ said Angela. ‘Now, which way did he go?’ She did not suppose for a second that the tracks really did belong to Professor Klausen, but she was caught up in the game now and was curious to know where they led.
    ‘This way,’ said Gus, who was busy coiling the rope around his waist again.
    On this side of the stream the woods grew more thickly, shutting out much of the light—which in any case was starting to fade as the afternoon advanced. Here and there the ground was less thickly covered or even bare where the snow had been unable to penetrate through the trees, but even so, it