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conclusions. You don’t even know if the man was a burglar.”
    Her friends admitted this was true. But then why was the home set on fire?
    “Let’s begin by examining the shoe prints,” Nancy suggested.
    “They’re funny!” Martie declared. “They don’t match. Maybe the arsonist has a clubfoot and wears special shoes?”
    “That’s a good guess,” Nancy agreed, “but why wouldn’t the two resemble each other? These are totally different. One has a smooth sole and a corrugated heel and is smaller than the other, which has a rubber heel with a star on it and a corrugated rubber sole.”
    “What does it mean?” Karen asked.
    Nancy shrugged, then said, “The Federal Bureau of Investigation has a complete record of the soles and heels of every pair of shoes manufactured in the United States.”
    “But how can you get these prints to the FBI in Washington, D.C.?”
    Sue said, “You could photograph them.”

    “The shoe prints don’t match! ” Martie declared.
    “That’s true,” Nancy agreed. “But you have to measure the length and width of each section—the front part, the arch, and the heel. These measurements must be sent along with the photographs.”
    Martie sighed. “Sounds like a lot of work.” She was glancing at the house, and suddenly started to scream. “Oh!”
    The others stared in the direction she pointed, and they cried out, too. A large, flaming cornice had broken loose from under the overhang of the roof and was hurtling toward the garden. Instinctively, the girls pushed through the hedge into a large flower bed on the other side. They were not a moment too soon. The cornice landed and split into hundreds of pieces, sending a shower of sparks high into the air.
    “Maybe we shouldn’t stay here,” Peg said fearfully.
    Nancy was calm now. “I’m sure we’re safe on this side,” she said. “And we should work on the footprints. Those in the garden are ruined, so we must pick up the ones over here. I’ll dash home and get my camera and my moulage kit. You wait here.”
    As the young sleuth hurried off, Honey Rushmore asked, “What’s a moulage kit?”
    “It holds material for making a plaster cast of things like shoe prints,” Peg replied.
    Sue thought the girls should hunt for a good sample of the suspect’s impressions for Nancy to use. It took them several minutes to locate a perfect right and left print in the soft earth, since their own were there, as well as those of another person, presumably the gardener.
    Nancy arrived just as the club members made their decision. “They’re excellent,” she agreed. “Deep enough that we won’t have to make a wall around the prints to keep the plaster from running over the sides.”
    She handed Sue the camera. “Since this is your case, how about you take the pictures? Snap most of them from above, and get as close as possible so every detail will show. Cathy, will you take the measurements? The rest of you can help me.”
    Nancy had received permission to park in the driveway of the house where the girls were working. She carried the moulage kit to the flower bed, set it on the ground, and opened it. Inside the box was a metal mixing bowl, a stirrer, and a spatula. Alongside lay a bag of quick-drying white plaster of Paris powder and a bottle of water.
    “Martie, will you empty the powder into the bowl, and Peg, please pour the water in gradually. I’ll stir.”
    In less than a minute, the plaster was ready. Nancy carefully dropped plaster into the right shoe print until it was half an inch thick, then gently patted it firm. Finally, she smoothed it with the spatula.
    She now laid thin strips of wood over the cast as a base to turn the cast upside down on after it had dried. Before working on the left shoe print, the girls stopped to look at the snapshots Sue had taken.
    “They’re great!” Nancy praised her. “Take some more at different angles.”
    She prepared a new batch of plaster and, in a few minutes, finished