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Freeman, R. Austin (Richard Austin), 1862-1943

"and edited by R. Austin Freeman"

Now, this man had an artificial foot, and he evidently
distrusted his knee-joint, as is shown by his steadying it with his
stick on the same side. If he had merely had a weak leg, he would have
used the stick with his right hand--with the natural swing of the arm,
in fact--unless he had been very lame, which he evidently was not.
Still, it was only a question of probability, though the probability was
very great. Of course, you understand that those particles of woody
fibre and starch granules were disintegrated snuff-grains."
This explanation, like the others, was quite simple when one had heard
it, though it gave me material for much thought as we pedalled on along
the dark road, with Thorndyke's light flickering in front, and the
dogcart pattering in our wake. But there was ample time for reflection;
for our pace rather precluded conversation, and we rode on, mile after
mile, until my legs ached with fatigue. On and on we went through
village after village, now losing the trail in some frequented street,
but picking it up again unfailingly as we emerged on to the country
road, until at last, in the paved High Street of the little town of
Horsefield, we lost it for good.


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