"Not at all," said Kiddie. "Your theory is wrong from beginnin' to end. The canoe was never used. The paddles were in the boat-house as dry as a bone. The tobacco pipe, the dead matches and the footprint were planted there purposely as a blind to put us on a false trail. I don't deny that the pipe was Nick Undrell's, or the boots, or that the threads of yellow worsted came from Nick's vest. But in spite of these clues, yes, even because of them, I believe that Nick Undrell had nothing to do with this robbery."
"Git!" exclaimed Isa Blagg, with a derisive laugh.
"You say you didn't touch the dead dog," pursued Kiddie, "didn't look into her eyes an' see how the pupils were dilated; didn't handle her limbs an' feel how rigid they were. You've seen many an animal killed with a bullet, Rube, but you never saw one lookin' as Sheila looks. Why? Because she wasn't shot. It was poison that killed her--a quick an' deadly poison, injected on the point of a dart, a spear, or, perhaps even an arrow. And the bootprint was made purposely by the man who went up to her to recover the weapon and to fix the thread of yellow worsted to her claw, just as he afterwards fixed the thread on the splinter of window glass, as an intentionally misleading clue. As to the cigarettes and tobacco, there need have been no hesitation. The cigarettes were taken in preference by a man who never smokes a pipe, but is peculiarly fond of cigarettes."
"Gee!" cried Rube. "You are clever, Kiddie."
Kiddie had disappeared into his bedroom. When he came out again some minutes afterwards, he was dressed as a western cowboy.
"Hullo!" exclaimed Rube. "Where're you off to?"
"Along to Laramie ter locate Nick Undrell," drawled Kiddie, fixing his six-shooter in his belt.
He hastened out to the stables, saddled and mounted a pony, and started off through the woodland towards the trail.
Hardly had he got out from among the trees when he heard the clattering of a horse's galloping feet. He dropped the bridle over his pony's head, leapt from his saddle, gathered the coils of his lariat in his fist, and crept to the side of the trail. The galloping horse came swiftly nearer. Kiddie peeped out over the edge of a boulder and recognized his own bay hunter Regent.
