"
The detective drew a deep breath of regret.
"Someone who waited for him on the edge of that wood stepped out and
killed him--that's evident," he said.
"Without a doubt."
"And my belief is that it was an Italian. There were two foreigners who
slept at a common lodging-house two nights ago and went on tramp towards
Glasgow. We have telegraphed after them, and hope we shall find them.
Scotsmen or Englishmen never use a knife of that pattern."
With his latter remark I entirely coincided. In my own mind that was the
strongest argument in favor of Leithcourt's innocence. That the tenant
of Rannoch had kept that secret tryst in daily patience I knew from my
own observations, yet to me it scarcely seemed feasible that he would
use a weapon so peculiarly Italian and yet so terribly deadly.
And then when I reflected further, recollecting that the body I had
discovered was that of a woman and not a man, I stood staggered and
bewildered by the utterly inexplicable enigma.
I promised the burly detective that in exchange for his secrecy
regarding my statement that I would assist him in every manner possible
in the solution of the problem.
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