tiptoes! tiptoes! square, too, quite unusual boots! they come, they go, they come again—of course that was for the cloak. now where did they come from?" he ran up and down, sometimes losing, sometimes finding the track until we were well within the edge of the wood and under the shadow of a great beech, the largest tree in the neighbourhood. holmes traced his way to the farther side of this and lay down once more upon his face with a little cry of satisfaction. for a long time he remained there, turning over the leaves and dried sticks, gathering up what seemed to me to be dust into an envelope and examining with his lens not only the ground but even the bark of the tree as far as he could reach. a jagged stone was lying among the moss, and this also he carefully examined and retained. then he followed a pathway through the wood until he came to the highroad, where all traces were lost.