Mystery of the Inn by the Shore by Florence Warden

Cursing his own ill-luck and the deftness and fleetness of foot of his antagonist, the detective hurried down the stairs and dashed out by the back door, just as he heard the voice of George Claris from above calling out to know what was the matter.

Now, there was by this time enough daylight for the detective to flatter himself that the chase would be a short one when once he got out of doors. He was surprised to find, therefore, that the mysterious creature he was pursuing had vanished altogether, leaving no trace. Dashing out among the cabbage-stumps he had a wide view over the fields and across the little river. But there was not a sound, not the flutter of a skirt, to help him in his search. He went carefully around the house, in the first place, trying the doors of the outhouses and peering about for nooks and corners in which the thief might lie hidden. As for the house itself, the lower windows were secured by shutters and bore no sign of having been tampered with, while the front door was securely fastened from the inside. He then made his way to the group of cottages which stood near, and questioned a laborer, who was just leaving one of them to go to his work, as to whether he had seen any person about within the last few minutes. The man answered in the negative.