Holmes and I walked slowly across the moor. In the evening sunlight the
autumn colours on the hills were beautiful — reds and browns and yellows.
But Holmes saw nothing of that. 'So, Watson,' he said, 'let's forget John Straker for a minute, and think about the horse. Horses are friendly animals.
Let's say that Silver Blaze runs away after the killing. Here he is, out on the cold wet moor. What does he do next?'
'He looks for a nice warm stable,' I said, 'with food and water.'
'Right, Watson. He didn't go back to King's Pyland, we know that, but there is another stable not far away, at Capleton. Perhaps he went there. And the way to Capleton, Watson, is down. this hill. Let's go!'
We walked quickly down the hill, and at the bottom we found a small
river and some very wet ground.
'Wonderful,' said Holmes. 'I wanted mud, and here it is. You follow the
left side of the river, Watson. We're looking for the tracks of horseshoes.' We found them after only fifty metres. Holmes took the horseshoe out of his pocket and put it next to the tracks. 'Yes, that's Silver Blaze, no question about it.'
We followed the tracks easily, then lost them for a time, but found them
again about two hundred metres from the Capleton stables.
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