The woodwork was cut and
the scratches showed white through the paint, as if they had
been that instant done. Holmes had been examining the window.
"Someone has tried to force this also. Whoever it was has failed
to make his way in. He must have been a very poor burglar."
"This is a most extraordinary thing," said the inspector;
"I could swear that these marks were not here yesterday evening."
"Some curious person from the village, perhaps," I suggested.
"Very unlikely. Few of them would dare to set foot in the
grounds, far less try to force their way into the cabin.
What do you think of it, Mr. Holmes?"
"I think that fortune is very kind to us."
"You mean that the person will come again?"
"It is very probable. He came expecting to find the door open.
He tried to get in with the blade of a very small penknife.
He could not manage it. What would he do?"
"Come again next night with a more useful tool."
"So I should say. It will be our fault if we are not there
to receive him. Meanwhile, let me see the inside of the cabin."
The traces of the tragedy had been removed, but the furniture
within the little room still stood as it had been on the night
of the crime.
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