offenes wohnzimmer ideen

the adventure of the empty house it was in the spring of the year 1894 thatall london was interested, and the fashionable world dismayed, by the murderof the honourable ronald adair under most unusual and inexplicable circumstances. the public has already learned thoseparticulars of the crime which came out in the police investigation, but a good dealwas suppressed upon that occasion, since the case for the prosecution was so overwhelmingly strong that it was notnecessary to bring forward all the facts. only now, at the end of nearly ten years,am i allowed to supply those missing links

which make up the whole of that remarkablechain. the crime was of interest in itself, butthat interest was as nothing to me compared to the inconceivable sequel, which affordedme the greatest shock and surprise of any event in my adventurous life. even now, after this long interval, i findmyself thrilling as i think of it, and feeling once more that sudden flood of joy,amazement, and incredulity which utterly submerged my mind. let me say to that public, which has shownsome interest in those glimpses which i have occasionally given them of thethoughts and actions of a very remarkable

man, that they are not to blame me if i have not shared my knowledge with them, fori should have considered it my first duty to do so, had i not been barred by apositive prohibition from his own lips, which was only withdrawn upon the third oflast month. it can be imagined that my close intimacywith sherlock holmes had interested me deeply in crime, and that after hisdisappearance i never failed to read with care the various problems which came beforethe public. and i even attempted, more than once, formy own private satisfaction, to employ his methods in their solution, though withindifferent success.

there was none, however, which appealed tome like this tragedy of ronald adair. as i read the evidence at the inquest,which led up to a verdict of willful murder against some person or persons unknown, irealized more clearly than i had ever done the loss which the community had sustainedby the death of sherlock holmes. there were points about this strangebusiness which would, i was sure, have specially appealed to him, and the effortsof the police would have been supplemented, or more probably anticipated, by the trained observation and the alert mind ofthe first criminal agent in europe. all day, as i drove upon my round, i turnedover the case in my mind and found no

explanation which appeared to me to beadequate. at the risk of telling a twice-told tale, iwill recapitulate the facts as they were known to the public at the conclusion ofthe inquest. the honourable ronald adair was the secondson of the earl of maynooth, at that time governor of one of the australian colonies. adair's mother had returned from australiato undergo the operation for cataract, and she, her son ronald, and her daughter hildawere living together at 427 park lane. the youth moved in the best society--had,so far as was known, no enemies and no particular vices.

he had been engaged to miss edith woodley,of carstairs, but the engagement had been broken off by mutual consent some monthsbefore, and there was no sign that it had left any very profound feeling behind it. for the rest {sic} the man's life moved ina narrow and conventional circle, for his habits were quiet and his natureunemotional. yet it was upon this easy-going youngaristocrat that death came, in most strange and unexpected form, between the hours often and eleven-twenty on the night of march 30, 1894. ronald adair was fond of cards--playingcontinually, but never for such stakes as

would hurt him.he was a member of the baldwin, the cavendish, and the bagatelle card clubs. it was shown that, after dinner on the dayof his death, he had played a rubber of whist at the latter club.he had also played there in the afternoon. the evidence of those who had played withhim-- mr. murray, sir john hardy, and colonel moran--showed that the game waswhist, and that there was a fairly equal fall of the cards. adair might have lost five pounds, but notmore. his fortune was a considerable one, andsuch a loss could not in any way affect

him. he had played nearly every day at one clubor other, but he was a cautious player, and usually rose a winner. it came out in evidence that, inpartnership with colonel moran, he had actually won as much as four hundred andtwenty pounds in a sitting, some weeks before, from godfrey milner and lordbalmoral. so much for his recent history as it cameout at the inquest. on the evening of the crime, he returnedfrom the club exactly at ten. his mother and sister were out spending theevening with a relation.

the servant deposed that she heard himenter the front room on the second floor, generally used as his sitting-room.she had lit a fire there, and as it smoked she had opened the window. no sound was heard from the room untileleven-twenty, the hour of the return of lady maynooth and her daughter.desiring to say good-night, she attempted to enter her son's room. the door was locked on the inside, and noanswer could be got to their cries and knocking.help was obtained, and the door forced. the unfortunate young man was found lyingnear the table.

his head had been horribly mutilated by anexpanding revolver bullet, but no weapon of any sort was to be found in the room. on the table lay two banknotes for tenpounds each and seventeen pounds ten in silver and gold, the money arranged inlittle piles of varying amount. there were some figures also upon a sheetof paper, with the names of some club friends opposite to them, from which it wasconjectured that before his death he was endeavouring to make out his losses orwinnings at cards. a minute examination of the circumstancesserved only to make the case more complex. in the first place, no reason could begiven why the young man should have

fastened the door upon the inside. there was the possibility that the murdererhad done this, and had afterwards escaped by the window. the drop was at least twenty feet, however,and a bed of crocuses in full bloom lay beneath. neither the flowers nor the earth showedany sign of having been disturbed, nor were there any marks upon the narrow strip ofgrass which separated the house from the road. apparently, therefore, it was the young manhimself who had fastened the door.

but how did he come by his death?no one could have climbed up to the window without leaving traces. suppose a man had fired through the window,he would indeed be a remarkable shot who could with a revolver inflict so deadly awound. again, park lane is a frequentedthoroughfare; there is a cab stand within a hundred yards of the house.no one had heard a shot. and yet there was the dead man and therethe revolver bullet, which had mushroomed out, as soft-nosed bullets will, and soinflicted a wound which must have caused instantaneous death.

such were the circumstances of the parklane mystery, which were further complicated by entire absence of motive,since, as i have said, young adair was not known to have any enemy, and no attempt had been made to remove the money or valuablesin the room. all day i turned these facts over in mymind, endeavouring to hit upon some theory which could reconcile them all, and to findthat line of least resistance which my poor friend had declared to be the starting-point of every investigation. i confess that i made little progress. in the evening i strolled across the park,and found myself about six o'clock at the

oxford street end of park lane. a group of loafers upon the pavements, allstaring up at a particular window, directed me to the house which i had come to see. a tall, thin man with coloured glasses,whom i strongly suspected of being a plain- clothes detective, was pointing out sometheory of his own, while the others crowded round to listen to what he said. i got as near him as i could, but hisobservations seemed to me to be absurd, so i withdrew again in some disgust. as i did so i struck against an elderly,deformed man, who had been behind me, and i

knocked down several books which he wascarrying. i remember that as i picked them up, iobserved the title of one of them, the origin of tree worship, and it struck methat the fellow must be some poor bibliophile, who, either as a trade or as ahobby, was a collector of obscure volumes. i endeavoured to apologize for theaccident, but it was evident that these books which i had so unfortunatelymaltreated were very precious objects in the eyes of their owner. with a snarl of contempt he turned upon hisheel, and i saw his curved back and white side-whiskers disappear among the throng.my observations of no.

427 park lane did little to clear up theproblem in which i was interested. the house was separated from the street bya low wall and railing, the whole not more than five feet high. it was perfectly easy, therefore, foranyone to get into the garden, but the window was entirely inaccessible, sincethere was no waterpipe or anything which could help the most active man to climb it. more puzzled than ever, i retraced my stepsto kensington. i had not been in my study five minuteswhen the maid entered to say that a person desired to see me.

to my astonishment it was none other thanmy strange old book collector, his sharp, wizened face peering out from a frame ofwhite hair, and his precious volumes, a dozen of them at least, wedged under hisright arm. "you're surprised to see me, sir," said he,in a strange, croaking voice. i acknowledged that i was. "well, i've a conscience, sir, and when ichanced to see you go into this house, as i came hobbling after you, i thought tomyself, i'll just step in and see that kind gentleman, and tell him that if i was a bit gruff in my manner there was not any harmmeant, and that i am much obliged to him

for picking up my books.""you make too much of a trifle," said i. "may i ask how you knew who i was?" "well, sir, if it isn't too great aliberty, i am a neighbour of yours, for you'll find my little bookshop at thecorner of church street, and very happy to see you, i am sure. maybe you collect yourself, sir.here's british birds, and catullus, and the holy war--a bargain, every one of them.with five volumes you could just fill that gap on that second shelf. it looks untidy, does it not, sir?"i moved my head to look at the cabinet

behind me. when i turned again, sherlock holmes wasstanding smiling at me across my study table. i rose to my feet, stared at him for someseconds in utter amazement, and then it appears that i must have fainted for thefirst and the last time in my life. certainly a gray mist swirled before myeyes, and when it cleared i found my collar-ends undone and the tingling after-taste of brandy upon my lips. holmes was bending over my chair, his flaskin his hand. "my dear watson," said the well-rememberedvoice, "i owe you a thousand apologies.

i had no idea that you would be soaffected." i gripped him by the arms."holmes!" i cried. "is it really you?can it indeed be that you are alive? is it possible that you succeeded inclimbing out of that awful abyss?" "wait a moment," said he. "are you sure that you are really fit todiscuss things? i have given you a serious shock by myunnecessarily dramatic reappearance." "i am all right, but indeed, holmes, i canhardly believe my eyes.

good heavens! to think that you--you of allmen--should be standing in my study." again i gripped him by the sleeve, and feltthe thin, sinewy arm beneath it. "well, you're not a spirit anyhow," said i."my dear chap, i'm overjoyed to see you. sit down, and tell me how you came aliveout of that dreadful chasm." he sat opposite to me, and lit a cigarettein his old, nonchalant manner. he was dressed in the seedy frockcoat ofthe book merchant, but the rest of that individual lay in a pile of white hair andold books upon the table. holmes looked even thinner and keener thanof old, but there was a dead-white tinge in his aquiline face which told me that hislife recently had not been a healthy one.

"i am glad to stretch myself, watson," saidhe. "it is no joke when a tall man has to takea foot off his stature for several hours on end. now, my dear fellow, in the matter of theseexplanations, we have, if i may ask for your cooperation, a hard and dangerousnight's work in front of us. perhaps it would be better if i gave you anaccount of the whole situation when that work is finished.""i am full of curiosity. i should much prefer to hear now." "you'll come with me to-night?""when you like and where you like."

"this is, indeed, like the old days.we shall have time for a mouthful of dinner before we need go. well, then, about that chasm.i had no serious difficulty in getting out of it, for the very simple reason that inever was in it." "you never were in it?" "no, watson, i never was in it.my note to you was absolutely genuine. i had little doubt that i had come to theend of my career when i perceived the somewhat sinister figure of the lateprofessor moriarty standing upon the narrow pathway which led to safety.

i read an inexorable purpose in his grayeyes. i exchanged some remarks with him,therefore, and obtained his courteous permission to write the short note whichyou afterwards received. i left it with my cigarette-box and mystick, and i walked along the pathway, moriarty still at my heels.when i reached the end i stood at bay. he drew no weapon, but he rushed at me andthrew his long arms around me. he knew that his own game was up, and wasonly anxious to revenge himself upon me. we tottered together upon the brink of thefall. i have some knowledge, however, of baritsu,or the japanese system of wrestling, which

has more than once been very useful to me. i slipped through his grip, and he with ahorrible scream kicked madly for a few seconds, and clawed the air with both hishands. but for all his efforts he could not gethis balance, and over he went. with my face over the brink, i saw him fallfor a long way. then he struck a rock, bounded off, andsplashed into the water." i listened with amazement to thisexplanation, which holmes delivered between the puffs of his cigarette. "but the tracks!"i cried.

"i saw, with my own eyes, that two wentdown the path and none returned." "it came about in this way. the instant that the professor haddisappeared, it struck me what a really extraordinarily lucky chance fate hadplaced in my way. i knew that moriarty was not the only manwho had sworn my death. there were at least three others whosedesire for vengeance upon me would only be increased by the death of their leader. they were all most dangerous men.one or other would certainly get me. on the other hand, if all the world wasconvinced that i was dead they would take

liberties, these men, they would soon laythemselves open, and sooner or later i could destroy them. then it would be time for me to announcethat i was still in the land of the living. so rapidly does the brain act that ibelieve i had thought this all out before professor moriarty had reached the bottomof the reichenbach fall. "i stood up and examined the rocky wallbehind me. in your picturesque account of the matter,which i read with great interest some months later, you assert that the wall wassheer. that was not literally true.

a few small footholds presented themselves,and there was some indication of a ledge. the cliff is so high that to climb it allwas an obvious impossibility, and it was equally impossible to make my way along thewet path without leaving some tracks. i might, it is true, have reversed myboots, as i have done on similar occasions, but the sight of three sets of tracks inone direction would certainly have suggested a deception. on the whole, then, it was best that ishould risk the climb. it was not a pleasant business, watson.the fall roared beneath me. i am not a fanciful person, but i give youmy word that i seemed to hear moriarty's

voice screaming at me out of the abyss.a mistake would have been fatal. more than once, as tufts of grass came outin my hand or my foot slipped in the wet notches of the rock, i thought that i wasgone. but i struggled upward, and at last ireached a ledge several feet deep and covered with soft green moss, where i couldlie unseen, in the most perfect comfort. there i was stretched, when you, my dearwatson, and all your following were investigating in the most sympathetic andinefficient manner the circumstances of my death. "at last, when you had all formed yourinevitable and totally erroneous

conclusions, you departed for the hotel,and i was left alone. i had imagined that i had reached the endof my adventures, but a very unexpected occurrence showed me that there weresurprises still in store for me. a huge rock, falling from above, boomedpast me, struck the path, and bounded over into the chasm. for an instant i thought that it was anaccident, but a moment later, looking up, i saw a man's head against the darkening sky,and another stone struck the very ledge upon which i was stretched, within a footof my head. of course, the meaning of this was obvious.moriarty had not been alone.

a confederate--and even that one glance hadtold me how dangerous a man that confederate was--had kept guard while theprofessor had attacked me. from a distance, unseen by me, he had beena witness of his friend's death and of my escape. he had waited, and then making his wayround to the top of the cliff, he had endeavoured to succeed where his comradehad failed. "i did not take long to think about it,watson. again i saw that grim face look over thecliff, and i knew that it was the precursor of another stone.

i scrambled down on to the path.i don't think i could have done it in cold blood.it was a hundred times more difficult than getting up. but i had no time to think of the danger,for another stone sang past me as i hung by my hands from the edge of the ledge. halfway down i slipped, but, by theblessing of god, i landed, torn and bleeding, upon the path. i took to my heels, did ten miles over themountains in the darkness, and a week later i found myself in florence, with thecertainty that no one in the world knew

what had become of me. "i had only one confidant--my brothermycroft. i owe you many apologies, my dear watson,but it was all-important that it should be thought i was dead, and it is quite certainthat you would not have written so convincing an account of my unhappy end hadyou not yourself thought that it was true. several times during the last three years ihave taken up my pen to write to you, but always i feared lest your affectionateregard for me should tempt you to some indiscretion which would betray my secret. for that reason i turned away from you thisevening when you upset my books, for i was

in danger at the time, and any show ofsurprise and emotion upon your part might have drawn attention to my identity and led to the most deplorable and irreparableresults. as to mycroft, i had to confide in him inorder to obtain the money which i needed. the course of events in london did not runso well as i had hoped, for the trial of the moriarty gang left two of its mostdangerous members, my own most vindictive enemies, at liberty. i travelled for two years in tibet,therefore, and amused myself by visiting lhassa, and spending some days with thehead lama.

you may have read of the remarkableexplorations of a norwegian named sigerson, but i am sure that it never occurred to youthat you were receiving news of your friend. i then passed through persia, looked in atmecca, and paid a short but interesting visit to the khalifa at khartoum theresults of which i have communicated to the foreign office. returning to france, i spent some months ina research into the coal-tar derivatives, which i conducted in a laboratory atmontpellier, in the south of france. having concluded this to my satisfactionand learning that only one of my enemies

was now left in london, i was about toreturn when my movements were hastened by the news of this very remarkable park lane mystery, which not only appealed to me byits own merits, but which seemed to offer some most peculiar personal opportunities. i came over at once to london, called in myown person at baker street, threw mrs. hudson into violent hysterics, and foundthat mycroft had preserved my rooms and my papers exactly as they had always been. so it was, my dear watson, that at twoo'clock to-day i found myself in my old armchair in my own old room, and onlywishing that i could have seen my old

friend watson in the other chair which hehas so often adorned." such was the remarkable narrative to whichi listened on that april evening--a narrative which would have been utterlyincredible to me had it not been confirmed by the actual sight of the tall, spare figure and the keen, eager face, which ihad never thought to see again. in some manner he had learned of my own sadbereavement, and his sympathy was shown in his manner rather than in his words. "work is the best antidote to sorrow, mydear watson," said he; "and i have a piece of work for us both to-night which, if wecan bring it to a successful conclusion,

will in itself justify a man's life on thisplanet." in vain i begged him to tell me more."you will hear and see enough before morning," he answered. "we have three years of the past todiscuss. let that suffice until half-past nine, whenwe start upon the notable adventure of the empty house." it was indeed like old times when, at thathour, i found myself seated beside him in a hansom, my revolver in my pocket, and thethrill of adventure in my heart. holmes was cold and stern and silent.

as the gleam of the street-lamps flashedupon his austere features, i saw that his brows were drawn down in thought and histhin lips compressed. i knew not what wild beast we were about tohunt down in the dark jungle of criminal london, but i was well assured, from thebearing of this master huntsman, that the adventure was a most grave one--while the sardonic smile which occasionally brokethrough his ascetic gloom boded little good for the object of our quest. i had imagined that we were bound for bakerstreet, but holmes stopped the cab at the corner of cavendish square.

i observed that as he stepped out he gave amost searching glance to right and left, and at every subsequent street corner hetook the utmost pains to assure that he was not followed. our route was certainly a singular one. holmes's knowledge of the byways of londonwas extraordinary, and on this occasion he passed rapidly and with an assured stepthrough a network of mews and stables, the very existence of which i had never known. we emerged at last into a small road, linedwith old, gloomy houses, which led us into manchester street, and so to blandfordstreet.

here he turned swiftly down a narrowpassage, passed through a wooden gate into a deserted yard, and then opened with a keythe back door of a house. we entered together, and he closed itbehind us. the place was pitch dark, but it wasevident to me that it was an empty house. our feet creaked and crackled over the bareplanking, and my outstretched hand touched a wall from which the paper was hanging inribbons. holmes's cold, thin fingers closed round mywrist and led me forward down a long hall, until i dimly saw the murky fanlight overthe door. here holmes turned suddenly to the rightand we found ourselves in a large, square,

empty room, heavily shadowed in thecorners, but faintly lit in the centre from the lights of the street beyond. there was no lamp near, and the window wasthick with dust, so that we could only just discern each other's figures within.my companion put his hand upon my shoulder and his lips close to my ear. "do you know where we are?" he whispered."surely that is baker street," i answered, staring through the dim window."exactly. we are in camden house, which standsopposite to our own old quarters." "but why are we here?""because it commands so excellent a view of

that picturesque pile. might i trouble you, my dear watson, todraw a little nearer to the window, taking every precaution not to show yourself, andthen to look up at our old rooms--the starting-point of so many of your littlefairy-tales? we will see if my three years of absencehave entirely taken away my power to surprise you." i crept forward and looked across at thefamiliar window. as my eyes fell upon it, i gave a gasp anda cry of amazement. the blind was down, and a strong light wasburning in the room.

the shadow of a man who was seated in achair within was thrown in hard, black outline upon the luminous screen of thewindow. there was no mistaking the poise of thehead, the squareness of the shoulders, the sharpness of the features. the face was turned half-round, and theeffect was that of one of those black silhouettes which our grandparents loved toframe. it was a perfect reproduction of holmes. so amazed was i that i threw out my hand tomake sure that the man himself was standing beside me.he was quivering with silent laughter.

"well?" said he. "good heavens!"i cried. "it is marvellous." "i trust that age doth not wither norcustom stale my infinite variety," said he, and i recognized in his voice the joy andpride which the artist takes in his own creation. "it really is rather like me, is it not?""i should be prepared to swear that it was you." "the credit of the execution is due tomonsieur oscar meunier, of grenoble, who

spent some days in doing the moulding.it is a bust in wax. the rest i arranged myself during my visitto baker street this afternoon." "but why?" "because, my dear watson, i had thestrongest possible reason for wishing certain people to think that i was therewhen i was really elsewhere." "and you thought the rooms were watched?" "i knew that they were watched.""by whom?" "by my old enemies, watson.by the charming society whose leader lies in the reichenbach fall.

you must remember that they knew, and onlythey knew, that i was still alive. sooner or later they believed that i shouldcome back to my rooms. they watched them continuously, and thismorning they saw me arrive." "how do you know?""because i recognized their sentinel when i glanced out of my window. he is a harmless enough fellow, parker byname, a garroter by trade, and a remarkable performer upon the jew's-harp.i cared nothing for him. but i cared a great deal for the much moreformidable person who was behind him, the bosom friend of moriarty, the man whodropped the rocks over the cliff, the most

cunning and dangerous criminal in london. that is the man who is after me to-nightwatson, and that is the man who is quite unaware that we are after him."my friend's plans were gradually revealing themselves. from this convenient retreat, the watcherswere being watched and the trackers tracked.that angular shadow up yonder was the bait, and we were the hunters. in silence we stood together in thedarkness and watched the hurrying figures who passed and repassed in front of us.

holmes was silent and motionless; but icould tell that he was keenly alert, and that his eyes were fixed intently upon thestream of passers-by. it was a bleak and boisterous night and thewind whistled shrilly down the long street. many people were moving to and fro, most ofthem muffled in their coats and cravats. once or twice it seemed to me that i hadseen the same figure before, and i especially noticed two men who appeared tobe sheltering themselves from the wind in the doorway of a house some distance up thestreet. i tried to draw my companion's attention tothem; but he gave a little ejaculation of impatience, and continued to stare into thestreet.

more than once he fidgeted with his feetand tapped rapidly with his fingers upon the wall. it was evident to me that he was becominguneasy, and that his plans were not working out altogether as he had hoped. at last, as midnight approached and thestreet gradually cleared, he paced up and down the room in uncontrollable agitation. i was about to make some remark to him,when i raised my eyes to the lighted window, and again experienced almost asgreat a surprise as before. i clutched holmes's arm, and pointedupward.

"the shadow has moved!"i cried. it was indeed no longer the profile, butthe back, which was turned towards us. three years had certainly not smoothed theasperities of his temper or his impatience with a less active intelligence than hisown. "of course it has moved," said he. "am i such a farcical bungler, watson, thati should erect an obvious dummy, and expect that some of the sharpest men in europewould be deceived by it? we have been in this room two hours, andmrs. hudson has made some change in that figure eight times, or once in everyquarter of an hour.

she works it from the front, so that hershadow may never be seen. ah!"he drew in his breath with a shrill, excited intake. in the dim light i saw his head thrownforward, his whole attitude rigid with attention.outside the street was absolutely deserted. those two men might still be crouching inthe doorway, but i could no longer see them. all was still and dark, save only thatbrilliant yellow screen in front of us with the black figure outlined upon its centre.

again in the utter silence i heard thatthin, sibilant note which spoke of intense suppressed excitement. an instant later he pulled me back into theblackest corner of the room, and i felt his warning hand upon my lips.the fingers which clutched me were quivering. never had i known my friend more moved, andyet the dark street still stretched lonely and motionless before us.but suddenly i was aware of that which his keener senses had already distinguished. a low, stealthy sound came to my ears, notfrom the direction of baker street, but

from the back of the very house in which welay concealed. a door opened and shut. an instant later steps crept down thepassage--steps which were meant to be silent, but which reverberated harshlythrough the empty house. holmes crouched back against the wall, andi did the same, my hand closing upon the handle of my revolver. peering through the gloom, i saw the vagueoutline of a man, a shade blacker than the blackness of the open door. he stood for an instant, and then he creptforward, crouching, menacing, into the

room. he was within three yards of us, thissinister figure, and i had braced myself to meet his spring, before i realized that hehad no idea of our presence. he passed close beside us, stole over tothe window, and very softly and noiselessly raised it for half a foot. as he sank to the level of this opening,the light of the street, no longer dimmed by the dusty glass, fell full upon hisface. the man seemed to be beside himself withexcitement. his two eyes shone like stars, and hisfeatures were working convulsively.

he was an elderly man, with a thin,projecting nose, a high, bald forehead, and a huge grizzled moustache. an opera hat was pushed to the back of hishead, and an evening dress shirt-front gleamed out through his open overcoat.his face was gaunt and swarthy, scored with deep, savage lines. in his hand he carried what appeared to bea stick, but as he laid it down upon the floor it gave a metallic clang. then from the pocket of his overcoat hedrew a bulky object, and he busied himself in some task which ended with a loud, sharpclick, as if a spring or bolt had fallen

into its place. still kneeling upon the floor he bentforward and threw all his weight and strength upon some lever, with the resultthat there came a long, whirling, grinding noise, ending once more in a powerfulclick. he straightened himself then, and i sawthat what he held in his hand was a sort of gun, with a curiously misshapen butt. he opened it at the breech, put somethingin, and snapped the breech-lock. then, crouching down, he rested the end ofthe barrel upon the ledge of the open window, and i saw his long moustache droopover the stock and his eye gleam as it

peered along the sights. i heard a little sigh of satisfaction as hecuddled the butt into his shoulder; and saw that amazing target, the black man on theyellow ground, standing clear at the end of his foresight. for an instant he was rigid and motionless.then his finger tightened on the trigger. there was a strange, loud whiz and a long,silvery tinkle of broken glass. at that instant holmes sprang like a tigeron to the marksman's back, and hurled him flat upon his face. he was up again in a moment, and withconvulsive strength he seized holmes by the

throat, but i struck him on the head withthe butt of my revolver, and he dropped again upon the floor. i fell upon him, and as i held him mycomrade blew a shrill call upon a whistle. there was the clatter of running feet uponthe pavement, and two policemen in uniform, with one plain-clothes detective, rushedthrough the front entrance and into the "that you, lestrade?" said holmes."yes, mr. holmes. i took the job myself.it's good to see you back in london, sir." "i think you want a little unofficial help. three undetected murders in one year won'tdo, lestrade.

but you handled the molesey mystery withless than your usual--that's to say, you handled it fairly well." we had all risen to our feet, our prisonerbreathing hard, with a stalwart constable on each side of him.already a few loiterers had begun to collect in the street. holmes stepped up to the window, closed it,and dropped the blinds. lestrade had produced two candles, and thepolicemen had uncovered their lanterns. i was able at last to have a good look atour prisoner. it was a tremendously virile and yetsinister face which was turned towards us.

with the brow of a philosopher above andthe jaw of a sensualist below, the man must have started with great capacities for goodor for evil. but one could not look upon his cruel blueeyes, with their drooping, cynical lids, or upon the fierce, aggressive nose and thethreatening, deep-lined brow, without reading nature's plainest danger-signals. he took no heed of any of us, but his eyeswere fixed upon holmes's face with an expression in which hatred and amazementwere equally blended. "you fiend!" he kept on muttering. "you clever, clever fiend!""ah, colonel!" said holmes, arranging his

rumpled collar."'journeys end in lovers' meetings,' as the old play says. i don't think i have had the pleasure ofseeing you since you favoured me with those attentions as i lay on the ledge above thereichenbach fall." the colonel still stared at my friend likea man in a trance. "you cunning, cunning fiend!" was all thathe could say. "i have not introduced you yet," saidholmes. "this, gentlemen, is colonel sebastianmoran, once of her majesty's indian army, and the best heavy-game shot that oureastern empire has ever produced.

i believe i am correct colonel, in sayingthat your bag of tigers still remains unrivalled?"the fierce old man said nothing, but still glared at my companion. with his savage eyes and bristlingmoustache he was wonderfully like a tiger himself. "i wonder that my very simple stratagemcould deceive so old a shikari," said holmes."it must be very familiar to you. have you not tethered a young kid under atree, lain above it with your rifle, and waited for the bait to bring up your tiger?this empty house is my tree, and you are my

tiger. you have possibly had other guns in reservein case there should be several tigers, or in the unlikely supposition of your own aimfailing you. these," he pointed around, "are my otherguns. the parallel is exact." colonel moran sprang forward with a snarlof rage, but the constables dragged him back.the fury upon his face was terrible to look at. "i confess that you had one small surprisefor me," said holmes.

"i did not anticipate that you wouldyourself make use of this empty house and this convenient front window. i had imagined you as operating from thestreet, where my friend, lestrade and his merry men were awaiting you.with that exception, all has gone as i expected." colonel moran turned to the officialdetective. "you may or may not have just cause forarresting me," said he, "but at least there can be no reason why i should submit to thegibes of this person. if i am in the hands of the law, let thingsbe done in a legal way."

"well, that's reasonable enough," saidlestrade. "nothing further you have to say, mr.holmes, before we go?" holmes had picked up the powerful air-gunfrom the floor, and was examining its mechanism. "an admirable and unique weapon," said he,"noiseless and of tremendous power: i knew von herder, the blind german mechanic, whoconstructed it to the order of the late professor moriarty. for years i have been aware of itsexistence though i have never before had the opportunity of handling it.

i commend it very specially to yourattention, lestrade and also the bullets which fit it." "you can trust us to look after that, mr.holmes," said lestrade, as the whole party moved towards the door."anything further to say?" "only to ask what charge you intend toprefer?" "what charge, sir?why, of course, the attempted murder of mr. sherlock holmes." "not so, lestrade.i do not propose to appear in the matter at all.

to you, and to you only, belongs the creditof the remarkable arrest which you have effected.yes, lestrade, i congratulate you! with your usual happy mixture of cunningand audacity, you have got him." "got him!got whom, mr. holmes?" "the man that the whole force has beenseeking in vain--colonel sebastian moran, who shot the honourable ronald adair withan expanding bullet from an air-gun through the open window of the second-floor frontof no. 427 park lane, upon the thirtieth of lastmonth. that's the charge, lestrade.

and now, watson, if you can endure thedraught from a broken window, i think that half an hour in my study over a cigar mayafford you some profitable amusement." our old chambers had been left unchangedthrough the supervision of mycroft holmes and the immediate care of mrs. hudson. as i entered i saw, it is true, an unwontedtidiness, but the old landmarks were all in their place.there were the chemical corner and the acid-stained, deal-topped table. there upon a shelf was the row offormidable scrap-books and books of reference which many of our fellow-citizenswould have been so glad to burn.

the diagrams, the violin-case, and thepipe-rack--even the persian slipper which contained the tobacco--all met my eyes as iglanced round me. there were two occupants of the room--one,mrs. hudson, who beamed upon us both as we entered--the other, the strange dummy whichhad played so important a part in the evening's adventures. it was a wax-coloured model of my friend,so admirably done that it was a perfect facsimile. it stood on a small pedestal table with anold dressing-gown of holmes's so draped round it that the illusion from the streetwas absolutely perfect.

"i hope you observed all precautions, mrs.hudson?" said holmes. "i went to it on my knees, sir, just as youtold me." "excellent. you carried the thing out very well.did you observe where the bullet went?" "yes, sir. i'm afraid it has spoilt your beautifulbust, for it passed right through the head and flattened itself on the wall.i picked it up from the carpet. here it is!" holmes held it out to me."a soft revolver bullet, as you perceive,

watson. there's genius in that, for who wouldexpect to find such a thing fired from an airgun?all right, mrs. hudson. i am much obliged for your assistance. and now, watson, let me see you in your oldseat once more, for there are several points which i should like to discuss withyou." he had thrown off the seedy frockcoat, andnow he was the holmes of old in the mouse- coloured dressing-gown which he took fromhis effigy. "the old shikari's nerves have not losttheir steadiness, nor his eyes their

keenness," said he, with a laugh, as heinspected the shattered forehead of his bust. "plumb in the middle of the back of thehead and smack through the brain. he was the best shot in india, and i expectthat there are few better in london. have you heard the name?" "no, i have not.""well, well, such is fame! but, then, if i remember right, you had notheard the name of professor james moriarty, who had one of the great brains of thecentury. just give me down my index of biographiesfrom the shelf."

he turned over the pages lazily, leaningback in his chair and blowing great clouds from his cigar. "my collection of m's is a fine one," saidhe. "moriarty himself is enough to make anyletter illustrious, and here is morgan the poisoner, and merridew of abominablememory, and mathews, who knocked out my left canine in the waiting-room at charing cross, and, finally, here is our friend ofto-night." he handed over the book, and i read:moran, sebastian, colonel. unemployed.

formerly 1st bangalore pioneers.born london, 1840. son of sir augustus moran, c. b., oncebritish minister to persia. educated eton and oxford. served in jowaki campaign, afghan campaign,charasiab (despatches), sherpur, and cabul. author of heavy game of the westernhimalayas (1881); three months in the jungle (1884). address: conduit street.clubs: the anglo-indian, the tankerville, the bagatelle card club.on the margin was written, in holmes's precise hand:

the second most dangerous man in london."this is astonishing," said i, as i handed back the volume."the man's career is that of an honourable soldier." "it is true," holmes answered."up to a certain point he did well. he was always a man of iron nerve, and thestory is still told in india how he crawled down a drain after a wounded man-eatingtiger. there are some trees, watson, which grow toa certain height, and then suddenly develop some unsightly eccentricity.you will see it often in humans. i have a theory that the individualrepresents in his development the whole

procession of his ancestors, and that sucha sudden turn to good or evil stands for some strong influence which came into theline of his pedigree. the person becomes, as it were, the epitomeof the history of his own family." "it is surely rather fanciful." "well, i don't insist upon it.whatever the cause, colonel moran began to go wrong.without any open scandal, he still made india too hot to hold him. he retired, came to london, and againacquired an evil name. it was at this time that he was sought outby professor moriarty, to whom for a time

he was chief of the staff. moriarty supplied him liberally with money,and used him only in one or two very high- class jobs, which no ordinary criminalcould have undertaken. you may have some recollection of the deathof mrs. stewart, of lauder, in 1887. not?well, i am sure moran was at the bottom of it, but nothing could be proved. so cleverly was the colonel concealed that,even when the moriarty gang was broken up, we could not incriminate him. you remember at that date, when i calledupon you in your rooms, how i put up the

shutters for fear of air-guns?no doubt you thought me fanciful. i knew exactly what i was doing, for i knewof the existence of this remarkable gun, and i knew also that one of the best shotsin the world would be behind it. when we were in switzerland he followed uswith moriarty, and it was undoubtedly he who gave me that evil five minutes on thereichenbach ledge. "you may think that i read the papers withsome attention during my sojourn in france, on the look-out for any chance of layinghim by the heels. so long as he was free in london, my lifewould really not have been worth living. night and day the shadow would have beenover me, and sooner or later his chance

must have come. what could i do?i could not shoot him at sight, or i should myself be in the dock.there was no use appealing to a magistrate. they cannot interfere on the strength ofwhat would appear to them to be a wild suspicion.so i could do nothing. but i watched the criminal news, knowingthat sooner or later i should get him. then came the death of this ronald adair.my chance had come at last. knowing what i did, was it not certain thatcolonel moran had done it? he had played cards with the lad, he hadfollowed him home from the club, he had

shot him through the open window. there was not a doubt of it.the bullets alone are enough to put his head in a noose.i came over at once. i was seen by the sentinel, who would, iknew, direct the colonel's attention to my presence. he could not fail to connect my suddenreturn with his crime, and to be terribly alarmed. i was sure that he would make an attempt toget me out of the way at once, and would bring round his murderous weapon for thatpurpose.

i left him an excellent mark in the window,and, having warned the police that they might be needed--by the way, watson, youspotted their presence in that doorway with unerring accuracy--i took up what seemed to me to be a judicious post for observation,never dreaming that he would choose the same spot for his attack.now, my dear watson, does anything remain for me to explain?" "yes," said i."you have not made it clear what was colonel moran's motive in murdering thehonourable ronald adair?" "ah! my dear watson, there we come intothose realms of conjecture, where the most

logical mind may be at fault. each may form his own hypothesis upon thepresent evidence, and yours is as likely to be correct as mine.""you have formed one, then?" "i think that it is not difficult toexplain the facts. it came out in evidence that colonel moranand young adair had, between them, won a considerable amount of money. now, undoubtedly played foul--of that ihave long been aware. i believe that on the day of the murderadair had discovered that moran was cheating.

very likely he had spoken to him privately,and had threatened to expose him unless he voluntarily resigned his membership of theclub, and promised not to play cards again. it is unlikely that a youngster like adairwould at once make a hideous scandal by exposing a well known man so much olderthan himself. probably he acted as i suggest. the exclusion from his clubs would meanruin to moran, who lived by his ill-gotten card-gains. he therefore murdered adair, who at thetime was endeavouring to work out how much money he should himself return, since hecould not profit by his partner's foul

play. he locked the door lest the ladies shouldsurprise him and insist upon knowing what he was doing with these names and coins.will it pass?" "i have no doubt that you have hit upon thetruth." "it will be verified or disproved at thetrial. meanwhile, come what may, colonel moranwill trouble us no more. the famous air-gun of von herder willembellish the scotland yard museum, and once again mr. sherlock holmes is free todevote his life to examining those interesting little problems which the

complex life of london so plentifullypresents." > the adventure of the norwood builder "from the point of view of the criminalexpert," said mr. sherlock holmes, "london has become a singularly uninteresting citysince the death of the late lamented professor moriarty." "i can hardly think that you would findmany decent citizens to agree with you," i answered. "well, well, i must not be selfish," saidhe, with a smile, as he pushed back his

chair from the breakfast-table. "the community is certainly the gainer, andno one the loser, save the poor out-of-work specialist, whose occupation has gone.with that man in the field, one's morning paper presented infinite possibilities. often it was only the smallest trace,watson, the faintest indication, and yet it was enough to tell me that the greatmalignant brain was there, as the gentlest tremors of the edges of the web remind one of the foul spider which lurks in thecentre. petty thefts, wanton assaults, purposelessoutrage--to the man who held the clue all

could be worked into one connected whole. to the scientific student of the highercriminal world, no capital in europe offered the advantages which london thenpossessed. but now----" he shrugged his shoulders inhumorous deprecation of the state of things which he had himself done so much toproduce. at the time of which i speak, holmes hadbeen back for some months, and i at his request had sold my practice and returnedto share the old quarters in baker street. a young doctor, named verner, had purchasedmy small kensington practice, and given with astonishingly little demur the highestprice that i ventured to ask--an incident

which only explained itself some years later, when i found that verner was adistant relation of holmes, and that it was my friend who had really found the money. our months of partnership had not been souneventful as he had stated, for i find, on looking over my notes, that this periodincludes the case of the papers of ex- president murillo, and also the shocking affair of the dutch steamship friesland,which so nearly cost us both our lives. his cold and proud nature was alwaysaverse, however, from anything in the shape of public applause, and he bound me in themost stringent terms to say no further word

of himself, his methods, or his successes-- a prohibition which, as i have explained,has only now been removed. mr. sherlock holmes was leaning back inhis chair after his whimsical protest, and was unfolding his morning paper in aleisurely fashion, when our attention was arrested by a tremendous ring at the bell, followed immediately by a hollow drummingsound, as if someone were beating on the outer door with his fist. as it opened there came a tumultuous rushinto the hall, rapid feet clattered up the stair, and an instant later a wild-eyed andfrantic young man, pale, disheveled, and

palpitating, burst into the room. he looked from one to the other of us, andunder our gaze of inquiry he became conscious that some apology was needed forthis unceremonious entry. "i'm sorry, mr. holmes," he cried. "you mustn't blame me.i am nearly mad. mr. holmes, i am the unhappy john hectormcfarlane." he made the announcement as if the namealone would explain both his visit and its manner, but i could see, by my companion'sunresponsive face, that it meant no more to him than to me.

"have a cigarette, mr. mcfarlane," saidhe, pushing his case across. "i am sure that, with your symptoms, myfriend dr. watson here would prescribe a sedative. the weather has been so very warm theselast few days. now, if you feel a little more composed, ishould be glad if you would sit down in that chair, and tell us very slowly andquietly who you are, and what it is that you want. you mentioned your name, as if i shouldrecognize it, but i assure you that, beyond the obvious facts that you are a bachelor,a solicitor, a freemason, and an asthmatic,

i know nothing whatever about you." familiar as i was with my friend's methods,it was not difficult for me to follow his deductions, and to observe the untidinessof attire, the sheaf of legal papers, the watch-charm, and the breathing which hadprompted them. our client, however, stared in amazement. "yes, i am all that, mr. holmes; and, inaddition, i am the most unfortunate man at this moment in london.for heaven's sake, don't abandon me, mr. holmes! if they come to arrest me before i havefinished my story, make them give me time,

so that i may tell you the whole truth.i could go to jail happy if i knew that you were working for me outside." "arrest you!" said holmes."this is really most grati--most interesting.on what charge do you expect to be arrested?" "upon the charge of murdering mr. jonasoldacre, of lower norwood." my companion's expressive face showed asympathy which was not, i am afraid, entirely unmixed with satisfaction. "dear me," said he, "it was only thismoment at breakfast that i was saying to my

friend, dr. watson, that sensational caseshad disappeared out of our papers." our visitor stretched forward a quiveringhand and picked up the daily telegraph, which still lay upon holmes's knee. "if you had looked at it, sir, you wouldhave seen at a glance what the errand is on which i have come to you this morning.i feel as if my name and my misfortune must be in every man's mouth." he turned it over to expose the centralpage. "here it is, and with your permission iwill read it to you. listen to this, mr. holmes.

the headlines are: 'mysterious affair atlower norwood. disappearance of a well known builder.suspicion of murder and arson. a clue to the criminal.' that is the clue which they are alreadyfollowing, mr. holmes, and i know that it leads infallibly to me. i have been followed from london bridgestation, and i am sure that they are only waiting for the warrant to arrest me.it will break my mother's heart--it will break her heart!" he wrung his hands in an agony ofapprehension, and swayed backward and

forward in his chair. i looked with interest upon this man, whowas accused of being the perpetrator of a crime of violence. he was flaxen-haired and handsome, in awashed-out negative fashion, with frightened blue eyes, and a clean-shavenface, with a weak, sensitive mouth. his age may have been about twenty-seven,his dress and bearing that of a gentleman. from the pocket of his light summerovercoat protruded the bundle of indorsed papers which proclaimed his profession. "we must use what time we have," saidholmes.

"watson, would you have the kindness totake the paper and to read the paragraph in question?" underneath the vigorous headlines which ourclient had quoted, i read the following suggestive narrative: "late last night, or early this morning, anincident occurred at lower norwood which points, it is feared, to a serious crime. mr. jonas oldacre is a well known residentof that suburb, where he has carried on his business as a builder for many years. mr. oldacre is a bachelor, fifty-two yearsof age, and lives in deep dene house, at

the sydenham end of the road of that name.he has had the reputation of being a man of eccentric habits, secretive and retiring. for some years he has practically withdrawnfrom the business, in which he is said to have massed considerable wealth. a small timber-yard still exists, however,at the back of the house, and last night, about twelve o'clock, an alarm was giventhat one of the stacks was on fire. the engines were soon upon the spot, butthe dry wood burned with great fury, and it was impossible to arrest the conflagrationuntil the stack had been entirely consumed. up to this point the incident bore theappearance of an ordinary accident, but

fresh indications seem to point to seriouscrime. surprise was expressed at the absence ofthe master of the establishment from the scene of the fire, and an inquiry followed,which showed that he had disappeared from the house. an examination of his room revealed thatthe bed had not been slept in, that a safe which stood in it was open, that a numberof important papers were scattered about the room, and finally, that there were signs of a murderous struggle, slighttraces of blood being found within the room, and an oaken walking-stick, whichalso showed stains of blood upon the

handle. it is known that mr. jonas oldacre hadreceived a late visitor in his bedroom upon that night, and the stick found has beenidentified as the property of this person, who is a young london solicitor named john hector mcfarlane, junior partner of grahamand mcfarlane, of 426 gresham buildings, e.c. the police believe that they have evidencein their possession which supplies a very convincing motive for the crime, andaltogether it cannot be doubted that sensational developments will follow.

"later.--it is rumoured as we go to pressthat mr. john hector mcfarlane has actually been arrested on the charge of themurder of mr. jonas oldacre. it is at least certain that a warrant hasbeen issued. there have been further and sinisterdevelopments in the investigation at norwood. besides the signs of a struggle in the roomof the unfortunate builder it is now known that the french windows of his bedroom(which is on the ground floor) were found to be open, that there were marks as if some bulky object had been dragged acrossto the wood-pile, and, finally, it is

asserted that charred remains have beenfound among the charcoal ashes of the fire. the police theory is that a mostsensational crime has been committed, that the victim was clubbed to death in his ownbedroom, his papers rifled, and his dead body dragged across to the wood-stack, which was then ignited so as to hide alltraces of the crime. the conduct of the criminal investigationhas been left in the experienced hands of inspector lestrade, of scotland yard, whois following up the clues with his accustomed energy and sagacity." sherlock holmes listened with closed eyesand fingertips together to this remarkable

account."the case has certainly some points of interest," said he, in his languid fashion. "may i ask, in the first place, mr.mcfarlane, how it is that you are still at liberty, since there appears to be enoughevidence to justify your arrest?" "i live at torrington lodge, blackheath,with my parents, mr. holmes, but last night, having to do business very late withmr. jonas oldacre, i stayed at an hotel in norwood, and came to my business fromthere. i knew nothing of this affair until i wasin the train, when i read what you have just heard.

i at once saw the horrible danger of myposition, and i hurried to put the case into your hands. i have no doubt that i should have beenarrested either at my city office or at my home. a man followed me from london bridgestation, and i have no doubt--great heaven! what is that?"it was a clang of the bell, followed instantly by heavy steps upon the stair. a moment later, our old friend lestradeappeared in the doorway. over his shoulder i caught a glimpse of oneor two uniformed policemen outside.

" mr. john hector mcfarlane?" saidlestrade. our unfortunate client rose with a ghastlyface. "i arrest you for the wilful murder of mr.jonas oldacre, of lower norwood." mcfarlane turned to us with a gesture ofdespair, and sank into his chair once more like one who is crushed. "one moment, lestrade," said holmes. "half an hour more or less can make nodifference to you, and the gentleman was about to give us an account of this veryinteresting affair, which might aid us in clearing it up."

"i think there will be no difficulty inclearing it up," said lestrade, grimly. "none the less, with your permission, ishould be much interested to hear his account." "well, mr. holmes, it is difficult for meto refuse you anything, for you have been of use to the force once or twice in thepast, and we owe you a good turn at scotland yard," said lestrade. "at the same time i must remain with myprisoner, and i am bound to warn him that anything he may say will appear in evidenceagainst him." "i wish nothing better," said our client.

"all i ask is that you should hear andrecognize the absolute truth." lestrade looked at his watch."i'll give you half an hour," said he. "i must explain first," said mcfarlane,"that i knew nothing of mr. jonas oldacre. his name was familiar to me, for many yearsago my parents were acquainted with him, but they drifted apart. i was very much surprised therefore, whenyesterday, about three o'clock in the afternoon, he walked into my office in thecity. but i was still more astonished when hetold me the object of his visit. he had in his hand several sheets of anotebook, covered with scribbled writing--

here they are--and he laid them on mytable. "'here is my will,' said he. 'i want you, mr. mcfarlane, to cast itinto proper legal shape. i will sit here while you do so.' "i set myself to copy it, and you canimagine my astonishment when i found that, with some reservations, he had left all hisproperty to me. he was a strange little ferret-like man,with white eyelashes, and when i looked up at him i found his keen gray eyes fixedupon me with an amused expression. i could hardly believe my own as i read theterms of the will; but he explained that he

was a bachelor with hardly any livingrelation, that he had known my parents in his youth, and that he had always heard of me as a very deserving young man, and wasassured that his money would be in worthy hands.of course, i could only stammer out my thanks. the will was duly finished, signed, andwitnessed by my clerk. this is it on the blue paper, and theseslips, as i have explained, are the rough draft. mr. jonas oldacre then informed me thatthere were a number of documents--building

leases, title-deeds, mortgages, scrip, andso forth--which it was necessary that i should see and understand. he said that his mind would not be easyuntil the whole thing was settled, and he begged me to come out to his house atnorwood that night, bringing the will with me, and to arrange matters. 'remember, my boy, not one word to yourparents about the affair until everything is settled.we will keep it as a little surprise for them.' he was very insistent upon this point, andmade me promise it faithfully.

"you can imagine, mr. holmes, that i wasnot in a humour to refuse him anything that he might ask. he was my benefactor, and all my desire wasto carry out his wishes in every particular. i sent a telegram home, therefore, to saythat i had important business on hand, and that it was impossible for me to say howlate i might be. mr. oldacre had told me that he would likeme to have supper with him at nine, as he might not be home before that hour. i had some difficulty in finding his house,however, and it was nearly half-past before

i reached it.i found him----" "one moment!" said holmes. "who opened the door?""a middle-aged woman, who was, i suppose, his housekeeper.""and it was she, i presume, who mentioned your name?" "exactly," said mcfarlane."pray proceed." mcfarlane wiped his damp brow, and thencontinued his narrative: "i was shown by this woman into a sitting-room, where a frugal supper was laid out. afterwards, mr. jonas oldacre led me intohis bedroom, in which there stood a heavy

safe. this he opened and took out a mass ofdocuments, which we went over together. it was between eleven and twelve when wefinished. he remarked that we must not disturb thehousekeeper. he showed me out through his own frenchwindow, which had been open all this time." "was the blind down?" asked holmes. "i will not be sure, but i believe that itwas only half down. yes, i remember how he pulled it up inorder to swing open the window. i could not find my stick, and he said,'never mind, my boy, i shall see a good

deal of you now, i hope, and i will keepyour stick until you come back to claim it.' i left him there, the safe open, and thepapers made up in packets upon the table. it was so late that i could not get back toblackheath, so i spent the night at the anerley arms, and i knew nothing more untili read of this horrible affair in the morning." "anything more that you would like to ask,mr. holmes?" said lestrade, whose eyebrows had gone up once or twice during thisremarkable explanation. "not until i have been to blackheath."

"you mean to norwood," said lestrade."oh, yes, no doubt that is what i must have meant," said holmes, with his enigmaticalsmile. lestrade had learned by more experiencesthan he would care to acknowledge that that brain could cut through that which wasimpenetrable to him. i saw him look curiously at my companion. "i think i should like to have a word withyou presently, mr. sherlock holmes," said he. "now, mr. mcfarlane, two of my constablesare at the door, and there is a four- wheeler waiting."

the wretched young man arose, and with alast beseeching glance at us walked from the room.the officers conducted him to the cab, but lestrade remained. holmes had picked up the pages which formedthe rough draft of the will, and was looking at them with the keenest interestupon his face. "there are some points about that document,lestrade, are there not?" said he, pushing them over.the official looked at them with a puzzled expression. "i can read the first few lines and thesein the middle of the second page, and one

or two at the end. those are as clear as print," said he, "butthe writing in between is very bad, and there are three places where i cannot readit at all." "what do you make of that?" said holmes. "well, what do you make of it?""that it was written in a train. the good writing represents stations, thebad writing movement, and the very bad writing passing over points. a scientific expert would pronounce at oncethat this was drawn up on a suburban line, since nowhere save in the immediatevicinity of a great city could there be so

quick a succession of points. granting that his whole journey wasoccupied in drawing up the will, then the train was an express, only stopping oncebetween norwood and london bridge." lestrade began to laugh. "you are too many for me when you begin toget on your theories, mr. holmes," said he."how does this bear on the case?" "well, it corroborates the young man'sstory to the extent that the will was drawn up by jonas oldacre in his journeyyesterday. it is curious--is it not?--that a manshould draw up so important a document in

so haphazard a fashion.it suggests that he did not think it was going to be of much practical importance. if a man drew up a will which he did notintend ever to be effective, he might do it so.""well, he drew up his own death warrant at the same time," said lestrade. "oh, you think so?""don't you?" "well, it is quite possible, but the caseis not clear to me yet." "not clear? well, if that isn't clear, what could beclear?

here is a young man who learns suddenlythat, if a certain older man dies, he will succeed to a fortune. what does he do?he says nothing to anyone, but he arranges that he shall go out on some pretext to seehis client that night. he waits until the only other person in thehouse is in bed, and then in the solitude of a man's room he murders him, burns hisbody in the wood-pile, and departs to a neighbouring hotel. the blood-stains in the room and also onthe stick are very slight. it is probable that he imagined his crimeto be a bloodless one, and hoped that if

the body were consumed it would hide alltraces of the method of his death--traces which, for some reason, must have pointedto him. is not all this obvious?""it strikes me, my good lestrade, as being just a trifle too obvious," said holmes. "you do not add imagination to your othergreat qualities, but if you could for one moment put yourself in the place of thisyoung man, would you choose the very night after the will had been made to commit yourcrime? would it not seem dangerous to you to makeso very close a relation between the two incidents?

again, would you choose an occasion whenyou are known to be in the house, when a servant has let you in? and, finally, would you take the greatpains to conceal the body, and yet leave your own stick as a sign that you were thecriminal? confess, lestrade, that all this is veryunlikely." "as to the stick, mr. holmes, you know aswell as i do that a criminal is often flurried, and does such things, which acool man would avoid. he was very likely afraid to go back to theroom. give me another theory that would fit thefacts."

"i could very easily give you half adozen," said holmes. "here for example, is a very possible andeven probable one. i make you a free present of it. the older man is showing documents whichare of evident value. a passing tramp sees them through thewindow, the blind of which is only half down. exit the solicitor.enter the tramp! he seizes a stick, which he observes there,kills oldacre, and departs after burning the body."

"why should the tramp burn the body?""for the matter of that, why should mcfarlane?""to hide some evidence." "possibly the tramp wanted to hide that anymurder at all had been committed." "and why did the tramp take nothing?""because they were papers that he could not negotiate." lestrade shook his head, though it seemedto me that his manner was less absolutely assured than before. "well, mr. sherlock holmes, you may lookfor your tramp, and while you are finding him we will hold on to our man.the future will show which is right.

just notice this point, mr. holmes: thatso far as we know, none of the papers were removed, and that the prisoner is the oneman in the world who had no reason for removing them, since he was heir-at-law,and would come into them in any case." my friend seemed struck by this remark. "i don't mean to deny that the evidence isin some ways very strongly in favour of your theory," said he."i only wish to point out that there are other theories possible. as you say, the future will decide.good-morning! i dare say that in the course of the day ishall drop in at norwood and see how you

are getting on." when the detective departed, my friend roseand made his preparations for the day's work with the alert air of a man who has acongenial task before him. "my first movement watson," said he, as hebustled into his frockcoat, "must, as i said, be in the direction of blackheath.""and why not norwood?" "because we have in this case one singularincident coming close to the heels of another singular incident. the police are making the mistake ofconcentrating their attention upon the second, because it happens to be the onewhich is actually criminal.

but it is evident to me that the logicalway to approach the case is to begin by trying to throw some light upon the firstincident--the curious will, so suddenly made, and to so unexpected an heir. it may do something to simplify whatfollowed. no, my dear fellow, i don't think you canhelp me. there is no prospect of danger, or i shouldnot dream of stirring out without you. i trust that when i see you in the evening,i will be able to report that i have been able to do something for this unfortunateyoungster, who has thrown himself upon my protection."

it was late when my friend returned, and icould see, by a glance at his haggard and anxious face, that the high hopes withwhich he had started had not been fulfilled. for an hour he droned away upon his violin,endeavouring to soothe his own ruffled spirits. at last he flung down the instrument, andplunged into a detailed account of his misadventures."it's all going wrong, watson--all as wrong as it can go. i kept a bold face before lestrade, but,upon my soul, i believe that for once the

fellow is on the right track and we are onthe wrong. all my instincts are one way, and all thefacts are the other, and i much fear that british juries have not yet attained thatpitch of intelligence when they will give the preference to my theories overlestrade's facts." "did you go to blackheath?" "yes, watson, i went there, and i foundvery quickly that the late lamented oldacre was a pretty considerable blackguard.the father was away in search of his son. the mother was at home--a little, fluffy,blue-eyed person, in a tremor of fear and indignation.of course, she would not admit even the

possibility of his guilt. but she would not express either surpriseor regret over the fate of oldacre. on the contrary, she spoke of him with suchbitterness that she was unconsciously considerably strengthening the case of thepolice for, of course, if her son had heard her speak of the man in this fashion, it would predispose him towards hatred andviolence. 'he was more like a malignant and cunningape than a human being,' said she, 'and he always was, ever since he was a young man.' "'you knew him at that time?' said i."'yes, i knew him well, in fact, he was an

old suitor of mine. thank heaven that i had the sense to turnaway from him and to marry a better, if poorer, man. i was engaged to him, mr. holmes, when iheard a shocking story of how he had turned a cat loose in an aviary, and i was sohorrified at his brutal cruelty that i would have nothing more to do with him.' she rummaged in a bureau, and presently sheproduced a photograph of a woman, shamefully defaced and mutilated with aknife. 'that is my own photograph,' she said.

'he sent it to me in that state, with hiscurse, upon my wedding morning.' "'well,' said i, 'at least he has forgivenyou now, since he has left all his property to your son.' "'neither my son nor i want anything fromjonas oldacre, dead or alive!' she cried, with a proper spirit. 'there is a god in heaven, mr. holmes, andthat same god who has punished that wicked man will show, in his own good time, thatmy son's hands are guiltless of his blood.' "well, i tried one or two leads, but couldget at nothing which would help our hypothesis, and several points which wouldmake against it.

i gave it up at last and off i went tonorwood. "this place, deep dene house, is a bigmodern villa of staring brick, standing back in its own grounds, with a laurel-clumped lawn in front of it. to the right and some distance back fromthe road was the timber-yard which had been the scene of the fire.here's a rough plan on a leaf of my notebook. this window on the left is the one whichopens into oldacre's room. you can look into it from the road, yousee. that is about the only bit of consolation ihave had to-day.

lestrade was not there, but his headconstable did the honours. they had just found a great treasure-trove. they had spent the morning raking among theashes of the burned wood-pile, and besides the charred organic remains they hadsecured several discoloured metal discs. i examined them with care, and there was nodoubt that they were trouser buttons. i even distinguished that one of them wasmarked with the name of 'hyams,' who was oldacres tailor. i then worked the lawn very carefully forsigns and traces, but this drought has made everything as hard as iron.

nothing was to be seen save that some bodyor bundle had been dragged through a low privet hedge which is in a line with thewood-pile. all that, of course, fits in with theofficial theory. i crawled about the lawn with an august sunon my back, but i got up at the end of an hour no wiser than before. "well, after this fiasco i went into thebedroom and examined that also. the blood-stains were very slight, meresmears and discolourations, but undoubtedly fresh. the stick had been removed, but there alsothe marks were slight.

there is no doubt about the stick belongingto our client. he admits it. footmarks of both men could be made out onthe carpet, but none of any third person, which again is a trick for the other side.they were piling up their score all the time and we were at a standstill. "only one little gleam of hope did i get--and yet it amounted to nothing. i examined the contents of the safe, mostof which had been taken out and left on the the papers had been made up into sealedenvelopes, one or two of which had been opened by the police.

they were not, so far as i could judge, ofany great value, nor did the bank-book show that mr. oldacre was in such very affluentcircumstances. but it seemed to me that all the paperswere not there. there were allusions to some deeds--possibly the more valuable--which i could not find. this, of course, if we could definitelyprove it, would turn lestrade's argument against himself, for who would steal athing if he knew that he would shortly inherit it? "finally, having drawn every other coverand picked up no scent, i tried my luck

with the housekeeper. mrs. lexington is her name--a little,dark, silent person, with suspicious and sidelong eyes.she could tell us something if she would--i am convinced of it. but she was as close as wax.yes, she had let mr. mcfarlane in at half- past nine.she wished her hand had withered before she had done so. she had gone to bed at half-past ten.her room was at the other end of the house, and she could hear nothing of what hadpassed.

mr. mcfarlane had left his hat, and to thebest of her had been awakened by the alarm of fire.her poor, dear master had certainly been murdered. had he any enemies?well, every man had enemies, but mr. oldacre kept himself very much to himself,and only met people in the way of business. she had seen the buttons, and was sure thatthey belonged to the clothes which he had worn last night.the wood-pile was very dry, for it had not rained for a month. it burned like tinder, and by the time shereached the spot, nothing could be seen but

flames.she and all the firemen smelled the burned flesh from inside it. she knew nothing of the papers, nor of mr.oldacre's private affairs. "so, my dear watson, there's my report of afailure. and yet--and yet--" he clenched his thinhands in a paroxysm of conviction--"i know it's all wrong.i feel it in my bones. there is something that has not come out,and that housekeeper knows it. there was a sort of sulky defiance in hereyes, which only goes with guilty knowledge.

however, there's no good talking any moreabout it, watson; but unless some lucky chance comes our way i fear that thenorwood disappearance case will not figure in that chronicle of our successes which i foresee that a patient public will sooneror later have to endure." "surely," said i, "the man's appearancewould go far with any jury?" "that is a dangerous argument my dearwatson. you remember that terrible murderer, bertstevens, who wanted us to get him off in '87? was there ever a more mild-mannered,sunday-school young man?"

"it is true.""unless we succeed in establishing an alternative theory, this man is lost. you can hardly find a flaw in the casewhich can now be presented against him, and all further investigation has served tostrengthen it. by the way, there is one curious littlepoint about those papers which may serve us as the starting-point for an inquiry. on looking over the bank-book i found thatthe low state of the balance was principally due to large checks which havebeen made out during the last year to mr. cornelius.

i confess that i should be interested toknow who this mr. cornelius may be with whom a retired builder has such very largetransactions. is it possible that he has had a hand inthe affair? cornelius might be a broker, but we havefound no scrip to correspond with these large payments. failing any other indication, my researchesmust now take the direction of an inquiry at the bank for the gentleman who hascashed these checks. but i fear, my dear fellow, that our casewill end ingloriously by lestrade hanging our client, which will certainly be atriumph for scotland yard."

i do not know how far sherlock holmes tookany sleep that night, but when i came down to breakfast i found him pale and harassed,his bright eyes the brighter for the dark shadows round them. the carpet round his chair was litteredwith cigarette-ends and with the early editions of the morning papers.an open telegram lay upon the table. "what do you think of this, watson?" heasked, tossing it across. it was from norwood, and ran as follows:important fresh evidence to hand. mcfarlane's guilt definitely established. advise you to abandon case.lestrade.

"this sounds serious," said i. "it is lestrade's little cock-a-doodle ofvictory," holmes answered, with a bitter smile."and yet it may be premature to abandon the case. after all, important fresh evidence is atwo-edged thing, and may possibly cut in a very different direction to that whichlestrade imagines. take your breakfast, watson, and we will goout together and see what we can do. i feel as if i shall need your company andyour moral support today." my friend had no breakfast himself, for itwas one of his peculiarities that in his

more intense moments he would permithimself no food, and i have known him presume upon his iron strength until he hasfainted from pure inanition. "at present i cannot spare energy and nerveforce for digestion," he would say in answer to my medical remonstrances. i was not surprised, therefore, when thismorning he left his untouched meal behind him, and started with me for norwood. a crowd of morbid sightseers were stillgathered round deep dene house, which was just such a suburban villa as i hadpictured. within the gates lestrade met us, his faceflushed with victory, his manner grossly

triumphant."well, mr. holmes, have you proved us to be wrong yet? have you found your tramp?" he cried."i have formed no conclusion whatever," my companion answered. "but we formed ours yesterday, and now itproves to be correct, so you must acknowledge that we have been a little infront of you this time, mr. holmes." "you certainly have the air of somethingunusual having occurred," said holmes. lestrade laughed loudly."you don't like being beaten any more than the rest of us do," said he.

"a man can't expect always to have it hisown way, can he, dr. watson? step this way, if you please, gentlemen,and i think i can convince you once for all that it was john mcfarlane who did thiscrime." he led us through the passage and out intoa dark hall beyond. "this is where young mcfarlane must havecome out to get his hat after the crime was done," said he. "now look at this."with dramatic suddenness he struck a match, and by its light exposed a stain of bloodupon the whitewashed wall. as he held the match nearer, i saw that itwas more than a stain.

it was the well-marked print of a thumb."look at that with your magnifying glass, mr. holmes." "yes, i am doing so.""you are aware that no two thumb-marks are alike?""i have heard something of the kind." "well, then, will you please compare thatprint with this wax impression of young mcfarlane's right thumb, taken by my ordersthis morning?" as he held the waxen print close to theblood-stain, it did not take a magnifying glass to see that the two were undoubtedlyfrom the same thumb. it was evident to me that our unfortunateclient was lost.

"that is final," said lestrade."yes, that is final," i involuntarily echoed. "it is final," said holmes.something in his tone caught my ear, and i turned to look at him.an extraordinary change had come over his face. it was writhing with inward merriment.his two eyes were shining like stars. it seemed to me that he was makingdesperate efforts to restrain a convulsive attack of laughter. "dear me!dear me!" he said at last.

"well, now, who would have thought it?and how deceptive appearances may be, to be sure! such a nice young man to look at!it is a lesson to us not to trust our own judgment, is it not, lestrade?" "yes, some of us are a little too muchinclined to be cock-sure, mr. holmes," said lestrade.the man's insolence was maddening, but we could not resent it. "what a providential thing that this youngman should press his right thumb against the wall in taking his hat from the peg!such a very natural action, too, if you

come to think of it." holmes was outwardly calm, but his wholebody gave a wriggle of suppressed excitement as he spoke."by the way, lestrade, who made this remarkable discovery?" "it was the housekeeper, mrs. lexington,who drew the night constable's attention to it.""where was the night constable?" "he remained on guard in the bedroom wherethe crime was committed, so as to see that nothing was touched.""but why didn't the police see this mark yesterday?"

"well, we had no particular reason to makea careful examination of the hall. besides, it's not in a very prominentplace, as you see." "no, no--of course not. i suppose there is no doubt that the markwas there yesterday?" lestrade looked at holmes as if he thoughthe was going out of his mind. i confess that i was myself surprised bothat his hilarious manner and at his rather wild observation. "i don't know whether you think thatmcfarlane came out of jail in the dead of the night in order to strengthen theevidence against himself," said lestrade.

"i leave it to any expert in the worldwhether that is not the mark of his thumb." "it is unquestionably the mark of histhumb." "there, that's enough," said lestrade. "i am a practical man, mr. holmes, andwhen i have got my evidence i come to my conclusions.if you have anything to say, you will find me writing my report in the sitting-room." holmes had recovered his equanimity, thoughi still seemed to detect gleams of amusement in his expression."dear me, this is a very sad development, watson, is it not?" said he.

"and yet there are singular points about itwhich hold out some hopes for our client." "i am delighted to hear it," said i,heartily. "i was afraid it was all up with him." "i would hardly go so far as to say that,my dear watson. the fact is that there is one reallyserious flaw in this evidence to which our friend attaches so much importance." "indeed, holmes!what is it?" "only this: that i know that that mark wasnot there when i examined the hall yesterday.

and now, watson, let us have a littlestroll round in the sunshine." with a confused brain, but with a heartinto which some warmth of hope was returning, i accompanied my friend in awalk round the garden. holmes took each face of the house in turn,and examined it with great interest. he then led the way inside, and went overthe whole building from basement to attic. most of the rooms were unfurnished, butnone the less holmes inspected them all minutely. finally, on the top corridor, which ranoutside three untenanted bedrooms, he again was seized with a spasm of merriment."there are really some very unique features

about this case, watson," said he. "i think it is time now that we took ourfriend lestrade into our confidence. he has had his little smile at our expense,and perhaps we may do as much by him, if my reading of this problem proves to becorrect. yes, yes, i think i see how we shouldapproach it." the scotland yard inspector was stillwriting in the parlour when holmes interrupted him. "i understood that you were writing areport of this case," said he. "so i am.""don't you think it may be a little

premature? i can't help thinking that your evidence isnot complete." lestrade knew my friend too well todisregard his words. he laid down his pen and looked curiouslyat him. "what do you mean, mr. holmes?""only that there is an important witness whom you have not seen." "can you produce him?""i think i can." "then do so.""i will do my best. how many constables have you?"

"there are three within call.""excellent!" said holmes. "may i ask if they are all large, able-bodied men with powerful voices?" "i have no doubt they are, though i fail tosee what their voices have to do with it." "perhaps i can help you to see that and oneor two other things as well," said holmes. "kindly summon your men, and i will try." five minutes later, three policemen hadassembled in the hall. "in the outhouse you will find aconsiderable quantity of straw," said holmes. "i will ask you to carry in two bundles ofit.

i think it will be of the greatestassistance in producing the witness whom i require. thank you very much.i believe you have some matches in your pocket watson.now, mr. lestrade, i will ask you all to accompany me to the top landing." as i have said, there was a broad corridorthere, which ran outside three empty bedrooms. at one end of the corridor we were allmarshalled by sherlock holmes, the constables grinning and lestrade staring atmy friend with amazement, expectation, and

derision chasing each other across hisfeatures. holmes stood before us with the air of aconjurer who is performing a trick. "would you kindly send one of yourconstables for two buckets of water? put the straw on the floor here, free fromthe wall on either side. now i think that we are all ready." lestrade's face had begun to grow red andangry. "i don't know whether you are playing agame with us, mr. sherlock holmes," said "if you know anything, you can surely sayit without all this tomfoolery." "i assure you, my good lestrade, that ihave an excellent reason for everything

that i do. you may possibly remember that you chaffedme a little, some hours ago, when the sun seemed on your side of the hedge, so youmust not grudge me a little pomp and ceremony now. might i ask you, watson, to open thatwindow, and then to put a match to the edge of the straw?" i did so, and driven by the draught a coilof gray smoke swirled down the corridor, while the dry straw crackled and flamed."now we must see if we can find this witness for you, lestrade.

might i ask you all to join in the cry of'fire!'? now then; one, two, three----""fire!" we all yelled. "thank you. i will trouble you once again.""fire!" "just once more, gentlemen, and alltogether." "fire!" the shout must have rung over norwood.it had hardly died away when an amazing thing happened. a door suddenly flew open out of whatappeared to be solid wall at the end of the

corridor, and a little, wizened man dartedout of it, like a rabbit out of its burrow. "capital!" said holmes, calmly. "watson, a bucket of water over the straw.that will do! lestrade, allow me to present you with yourprincipal missing witness, mr. jonas oldacre." the detective stared at the newcomer withblank amazement. the latter was blinking in the bright lightof the corridor, and peering at us and at the smouldering fire. it was an odious face--crafty, vicious,malignant, with shifty, light-gray eyes and

white lashes."what's this, then?" said lestrade, at last. "what have you been doing all this time,eh?" oldacre gave an uneasy laugh, shrinkingback from the furious red face of the angry detective. "i have done no harm.""no harm? you have done your best to get an innocentman hanged. if it wasn't for this gentleman here, i amnot sure that you would not have succeeded."the wretched creature began to whimper.

"i am sure, sir, it was only my practicaljoke." "oh! a joke, was it?you won't find the laugh on your side, i promise you. take him down, and keep him in the sitting-room until i come. mr. holmes," he continued, when they hadgone, "i could not speak before the constables, but i don't mind saying, in thepresence of dr. watson, that this is the brightest thing that you have done yet, though it is a mystery to me how you didit. you have saved an innocent man's life, andyou have prevented a very grave scandal,

which would have ruined my reputation inthe force." holmes smiled, and clapped lestrade uponthe shoulder. "instead of being ruined, my good sir, youwill find that your reputation has been enormously enhanced. just make a few alterations in that reportwhich you were writing, and they will understand how hard it is to throw dust inthe eyes of inspector lestrade." "and you don't want your name to appear?" "not at all.the work is its own reward. perhaps i shall get the credit also at somedistant day, when i permit my zealous

historian to lay out his foolscap oncemore--eh, watson? well, now, let us see where this rat hasbeen lurking." a lath-and-plaster partition had been runacross the passage six feet from the end, with a door cunningly concealed in it. it was lit within by slits under the eaves.a few articles of furniture and a supply of food and water were within, together with anumber of books and papers. "there's the advantage of being a builder,"said holmes, as we came out. "he was able to fix up his own littlehiding-place without any confederate--save, of course, that precious housekeeper ofhis, whom i should lose no time in adding

to your bag, lestrade." "i'll take your advice.but how did you know of this place, mr. holmes?""i made up my mind that the fellow was in hiding in the house. when i paced one corridor and found it sixfeet shorter than the corresponding one below, it was pretty clear where he was.i thought he had not the nerve to lie quiet before an alarm of fire. we could, of course, have gone in and takenhim, but it amused me to make him reveal himself.besides, i owed you a little mystification,

lestrade, for your chaff in the morning." "well, sir, you certainly got equal with meon that. but how in the world did you know that hewas in the house at all?" "the thumb-mark, lestrade. you said it was final; and so it was, in avery different sense. i knew it had not been there the daybefore. i pay a good deal of attention to mattersof detail, as you may have observed, and i had examined the hall, and was sure thatthe wall was clear. therefore, it had been put on during thenight."

"but how?""very simply. when those packets were sealed up, jonasoldacre got mcfarlane to secure one of the seals by putting his thumb upon the softwax. it would be done so quickly and sonaturally, that i daresay the young man himself has no recollection of it. very likely it just so happened, andoldacre had himself no notion of the use he would put it to. brooding over the case in that den of his,it suddenly struck him what absolutely damning evidence he could make againstmcfarlane by using that thumb-mark.

it was the simplest thing in the world forhim to take a wax impression from the seal, to moisten it in as much blood as he couldget from a pin-prick, and to put the mark upon the wall during the night, either with his own hand or with that of hishousekeeper. if you examine among those documents whichhe took with him into his retreat, i will lay you a wager that you find the seal withthe thumb-mark upon it." "wonderful!" said lestrade. "wonderful!it's all as clear as crystal, as you put it.but what is the object of this deep

deception, mr. holmes?" it was amusing to me to see how thedetective's overbearing manner had changed suddenly to that of a child askingquestions of its teacher. "well, i don't think that is very hard toexplain. a very deep, malicious, vindictive personis the gentleman who is now waiting us downstairs. you know that he was once refused bymcfarlane's mother? you don't!i told you that you should go to blackheath first and norwood afterwards.

well, this injury, as he would consider it,has rankled in his wicked, scheming brain, and all his life he has longed forvengeance, but never seen his chance. during the last year or two, things havegone against him--secret speculation, i think--and he finds himself in a bad way. he determines to swindle his creditors, andfor this purpose he pays large checks to a certain mr. cornelius, who is, i imagine,himself under another name. i have not traced these checks yet, but ihave no doubt that they were banked under that name at some provincial town whereoldacre from time to time led a double existence.

he intended to change his name altogether,draw this money, and vanish, starting life again elsewhere.""well, that's likely enough." "it would strike him that in disappearinghe might throw all pursuit off his track, and at the same time have an ample andcrushing revenge upon his old sweetheart, if he could give the impression that he hadbeen murdered by her only child. it was a masterpiece of villainy, and hecarried it out like a master. the idea of the will, which would give anobvious motive for the crime, the secret visit unknown to his own parents, theretention of the stick, the blood, and the animal remains and buttons in the wood-pile, all were admirable.

it was a net from which it seemed to me, afew hours ago, that there was no possible but he had not that supreme gift of theartist, the knowledge of when to stop. he wished to improve that which was alreadyperfect--to draw the rope tighter yet round the neck of his unfortunate victim--and sohe ruined all. let us descend, lestrade. there are just one or two questions that iwould ask him." the malignant creature was seated in hisown parlour, with a policeman upon each side of him. "it was a joke, my good sir--a practicaljoke, nothing more," he whined incessantly.

"i assure you, sir, that i simply concealedmyself in order to see the effect of my disappearance, and i am sure that you wouldnot be so unjust as to imagine that i would have allowed any harm to befall poor youngmr. mcfarlane." "that's for a jury to decide," saidlestrade. "anyhow, we shall have you on a charge ofconspiracy, if not for attempted murder." "and you'll probably find that yourcreditors will impound the banking account of mr. cornelius," said holmes. the little man started, and turned hismalignant eyes upon my friend. "i have to thank you for a good deal," saidhe.

"perhaps i'll pay my debt some day." holmes smiled indulgently."i fancy that, for some few years, you will find your time very fully occupied," saidhe. "by the way, what was it you put into thewood-pile besides your old trousers? a dead dog, or rabbits, or what?you won't tell? dear me, how very unkind of you! well, well, i daresay that a couple ofrabbits would account both for the blood and for the charred ashes.if ever you write an account, watson, you can make rabbits serve your turn."

the adventure of the dancing men holmes had been seated for some hours insilence with his long, thin back curved over a chemical vessel in which he wasbrewing a particularly malodorous product. his head was sunk upon his breast, and helooked from my point of view like a strange, lank bird, with dull gray plumageand a black top-knot. "so, watson," said he, suddenly, "you donot propose to invest in south african securities?"i gave a start of astonishment. accustomed as i was to holmes's curiousfaculties, this sudden intrusion into my most intimate thoughts was utterlyinexplicable.

"how on earth do you know that?" i asked.he wheeled round upon his stool, with a steaming test-tube in his hand, and a gleamof amusement in his deep-set eyes. "now, watson, confess yourself utterlytaken aback," said he. "i am.""i ought to make you sign a paper to that effect." "why?""because in five minutes you will say that it is all so absurdly simple.""i am sure that i shall say nothing of the kind."

"you see, my dear watson,"--he propped histest-tube in the rack, and began to lecture with the air of a professor addressing hisclass--"it is not really difficult to construct a series of inferences, each dependent upon its predecessor and eachsimple in itself. if, after doing so, one simply knocks outall the central inferences and presents one's audience with the starting-point andthe conclusion, one may produce a startling, though possibly a meretricious,effect. now, it was not really difficult, by aninspection of the groove between your left forefinger and thumb, to feel sure that youdid not propose to invest your small

capital in the gold fields." "i see no connection.""very likely not; but i can quickly show you a close connection.here are the missing links of the very simple chain: 1. you had chalk between your left finger andthumb when you returned from the club last night.2. you put chalk there when you playbilliards, to steady the cue. 3.you never play billiards except with thurston.

4.you told me, four weeks ago, that thurston had an option on some south africanproperty which would expire in a month, and which he desired you to share with him. 5.your check book is locked in my drawer, and you have not asked for the key.6. you do not propose to invest your money inthis manner." "how absurdly simple!"i cried. "quite so!" said he, a little nettled. "every problem becomes very childish whenonce it is explained to you.

here is an unexplained one.see what you can make of that, friend watson." he tossed a sheet of paper upon the table,and turned once more to his chemical analysis.i looked with amazement at the absurd hieroglyphics upon the paper. "why, holmes, it is a child's drawing," icried. "oh, that's your idea!""what else should it be?" "that is what mr. hilton cubitt, of ridingthorpe manor, norfolk, is very anxious to know.

this little conundrum came by the firstpost, and he was to follow by the next train.there's a ring at the bell, watson. i should not be very much surprised if thiswere he." a heavy step was heard upon the stairs, andan instant later there entered a tall, ruddy, clean-shaven gentleman, whose cleareyes and florid cheeks told of a life led far from the fogs of baker street. he seemed to bring a whiff of his strong,fresh, bracing, east-coast air with him as he entered. having shaken hands with each of us, he wasabout to sit down, when his eye rested upon

the paper with the curious markings, whichi had just examined and left upon the "well, mr. holmes, what do you make ofthese?" he cried. "they told me that you were fond of queermysteries, and i don't think you can find a queerer one than that. i sent the paper on ahead, so that youmight have time to study it before i came." "it is certainly rather a curiousproduction," said holmes. "at first sight it would appear to be somechildish prank. it consists of a number of absurd littlefigures dancing across the paper upon which they are drawn.

why should you attribute any importance toso grotesque an object?" "i never should, mr. holmes.but my wife does. it is frightening her to death. she says nothing, but i can see terror inher eyes. that's why i want to sift the matter to thebottom." holmes held up the paper so that thesunlight shone full upon it. it was a page torn from a notebook.the markings were done in pencil, and ran in this way: graphicholmes examined it for some time, and then,

folding it carefully up, he placed it inhis pocketbook. "this promises to be a most interesting andunusual case," said he. "you gave me a few particulars in yourletter, mr. hilton cubitt, but i should be very much obliged if you would kindly goover it all again for the benefit of my friend, dr. watson." "i'm not much of a story-teller," said ourvisitor, nervously clasping and unclasping his great, strong hands."you'll just ask me anything that i don't make clear. i'll begin at the time of my marriage lastyear, but i want to say first of all that,

though i'm not a rich man, my people havebeen at riding thorpe for a matter of five centuries, and there is no better knownfamily in the county of norfolk. last year i came up to london for thejubilee, and i stopped at a boarding-house in russell square, because parker, thevicar of our parish, was staying in it. there was an american young lady there--patrick was the name--elsie patrick. in some way we became friends, until beforemy month was up i was as much in love as man could be. we were quietly married at a registryoffice, and we returned to norfolk a wedded couple.

you'll think it very mad, mr. holmes, thata man of a good old family should marry a wife in this fashion, knowing nothing ofher past or of her people, but if you saw her and knew her, it would help you tounderstand. "she was very straight about it, was elsie. i can't say that she did not give me everychance of getting out of it if i wished to do so. 'i have had some very disagreeableassociations in my life,' said she, 'i wish to forget all about them.i would rather never allude to the past, for it is very painful to me.

if you take me, hilton, you will take awoman who has nothing that she need be personally ashamed of, but you will have tobe content with my word for it, and to allow me to be silent as to all that passedup to the time when i became yours. if these conditions are too hard, then goback to norfolk, and leave me to the lonely life in which you found me.' it was only the day before our wedding thatshe said those very words to me. i told her that i was content to take heron her own terms, and i have been as good as my word. "well we have been married now for a year,and very happy we have been.

but about a month ago, at the end of june,i saw for the first time signs of trouble. one day my wife received a letter fromamerica. i saw the american stamp.she turned deadly white, read the letter, and threw it into the fire. she made no allusion to it afterwards, andi made none, for a promise is a promise, but she has never known an easy hour fromthat moment. there is always a look of fear upon herface--a look as if she were waiting and expecting.she would do better to trust me. she would find that i was her best friend.

but until she speaks, i can say nothing.mind you, she is a truthful woman, mr. holmes, and whatever trouble there may havebeen in her past life it has been no fault of hers. i am only a simple norfolk squire, butthere is not a man in england who ranks his family honour more highly than i do.she knows it well, and she knew it well before she married me. she would never bring any stain upon it--ofthat i am sure. "well, now i come to the queer part of mystory. about a week ago--it was the tuesday oflast week--i found on one of the window-

sills a number of absurd little dancingfigures like these upon the paper. they were scrawled with chalk. i thought that it was the stable-boy whohad drawn them, but the lad swore he knew nothing about it.anyhow, they had come there during the night. i had them washed out, and i only mentionedthe matter to my wife afterwards. to my surprise, she took it very seriously,and begged me if any more came to let her see them. none did come for a week, and thenyesterday morning i found this paper lying

on the sundial in the garden.i showed it to elsie, and down she dropped in a dead faint. since then she has looked like a woman in adream, half dazed, and with terror always lurking in her eyes.it was then that i wrote and sent the paper to you, mr. holmes. it was not a thing that i could take to thepolice, for they would have laughed at me, but you will tell me what to do. i am not a rich man, but if there is anydanger threatening my little woman, i would spend my last copper to shield her."

he was a fine creature, this man of the oldenglish soil--simple, straight, and gentle, with his great, earnest blue eyes andbroad, comely face. his love for his wife and his trust in hershone in his features. holmes had listened to his story with theutmost attention, and now he sat for some time in silent thought. "don't you think, mr. cubitt," said he, atlast, "that your best plan would be to make a direct appeal to your wife, and to askher to share her secret with you?" hilton cubitt shook his massive head. "a promise is a promise, mr. holmes.if elsie wished to tell me she would.

if not, it is not for me to force herconfidence. but i am justified in taking my own line--and i will." "then i will help you with all my heart. in the first place, have you heard of anystrangers being seen in your neighbourhood?""no." "i presume that it is a very quiet place. any fresh face would cause comment?""in the immediate neighbourhood, yes. but we have several small watering-placesnot very far away. and the farmers take in lodgers."

"these hieroglyphics have evidently ameaning. if it is a purely arbitrary one, it may beimpossible for us to solve it. if, on the other hand, it is systematic, ihave no doubt that we shall get to the bottom of it. but this particular sample is so short thati can do nothing, and the facts which you have brought me are so indefinite that wehave no basis for an investigation. i would suggest that you return to norfolk,that you keep a keen lookout, and that you take an exact copy of any fresh dancing menwhich may appear. it is a thousand pities that we have not areproduction of those which were done in

chalk upon the window-sill.make a discreet inquiry also as to any strangers in the neighbourhood. when you have collected some freshevidence, come to me again. that is the best advice which i can giveyou, mr. hilton cubitt. if there are any pressing freshdevelopments, i shall be always ready to run down and see you in your norfolk home." the interview left sherlock holmes verythoughtful, and several times in the next few days i saw him take his slip of paperfrom his notebook and look long and earnestly at the curious figures inscribedupon it.

he made no allusion to the affair, however,until one afternoon a fortnight or so later. i was going out when he called me back."you had better stay here, watson." "why?""because i had a wire from hilton cubitt this morning. you remember hilton cubitt, of the dancingmen? he was to reach liverpool street at one-twenty. he may be here at any moment. i gather from his wire that there have beensome new incidents of importance."

we had not long to wait, for our norfolksquire came straight from the station as fast as a hansom could bring him. he was looking worried and depressed, withtired eyes and a lined forehead. "it's getting on my nerves, this business,mr. holmes," said he, as he sank, like a wearied man, into an armchair. "it's bad enough to feel that you aresurrounded by unseen, unknown folk, who have some kind of design upon you, butwhen, in addition to that, you know that it is just killing your wife by inches, then it becomes as much as flesh and blood canendure.

she's wearing away under it--just wearingaway before my eyes." "has she said anything yet?" "no, mr. holmes, she has not.and yet there have been times when the poor girl has wanted to speak, and yet could notquite bring herself to take the plunge. i have tried to help her, but i daresay idid it clumsily, and scared her from it. she has spoken about my old family, and ourreputation in the county, and our pride in our unsullied honour, and i always felt itwas leading to the point, but somehow it turned off before we got there." "but you have found out something foryourself?"

"a good deal, mr. holmes. i have several fresh dancing-men picturesfor you to examine, and, what is more important, i have seen the fellow.""what, the man who draws them?" "yes, i saw him at his work. but i will tell you everything in order.when i got back after my visit to you, the very first thing i saw next morning was afresh crop of dancing men. they had been drawn in chalk upon the blackwooden door of the tool-house, which stands beside the lawn in full view of the frontwindows. i took an exact copy, and here it is."

he unfolded a paper and laid it upon thetable. here is a copy of the hieroglyphics:graphic "excellent!" said holmes. "excellent!pray continue." "when i had taken the copy, i rubbed outthe marks, but, two mornings later, a fresh inscription had appeared. i have a copy of it here:"graphic holmes rubbed his hands and chuckled withdelight. "our material is rapidly accumulating,"said he.

"three days later a message was leftscrawled upon paper, and placed under a pebble upon the sundial. here it is.the characters are, as you see, exactly the same as the last one. after that i determined to lie in wait, soi got out my revolver and i sat up in my study, which overlooks the lawn and garden. about two in the morning i was seated bythe window, all being dark save for the moonlight outside, when i heard stepsbehind me, and there was my wife in her dressing-gown.

she implored me to come to bed.i told her frankly that i wished to see who it was who played such absurd tricks uponus. she answered that it was some senselesspractical joke, and that i should not take any notice of it. "'if it really annoys you, hilton, we mightgo and travel, you and i, and so avoid this nuisance.'"'what, be driven out of our own house by a practical joker?' said i. 'why, we should have the whole countylaughing at us.' "'well, come to bed,' said she, 'and we candiscuss it in the morning.'

"suddenly, as she spoke, i saw her whiteface grow whiter yet in the moonlight, and her hand tightened upon my shoulder.something was moving in the shadow of the tool-house. i saw a dark, creeping figure which crawledround the corner and squatted in front of the door. seizing my pistol, i was rushing out, whenmy wife threw her arms round me and held me with convulsive strength.i tried to throw her off, but she clung to me most desperately. at last i got clear, but by the time i hadopened the door and reached the house the

creature was gone. he had left a trace of his presence,however, for there on the door was the very same arrangement of dancing men which hadalready twice appeared, and which i have copied on that paper. there was no other sign of the fellowanywhere, though i ran all over the grounds. and yet the amazing thing is that he musthave been there all the time, for when i examined the door again in the morning, hehad scrawled some more of his pictures under the line which i had already seen."

"have you that fresh drawing?""yes, it is very short, but i made a copy of it, and here it is."again he produced a paper. the new dance was in this form: graphic"tell me," said holmes--and i could see by his eyes that he was much excited--"wasthis a mere addition to the first or did it appear to be entirely separate?" "it was on a different panel of the door.""excellent! this is far the most important of all forour purpose. it fills me with hopes.

now, mr. hilton cubitt, please continueyour most interesting statement." "i have nothing more to say, mr. holmes,except that i was angry with my wife that night for having held me back when i mighthave caught the skulking rascal. she said that she feared that i might cometo harm. for an instant it had crossed my mind thatperhaps what she really feared was that he might come to harm, for i could not doubtthat she knew who this man was, and what he meant by these strange signals. but there is a tone in my wife's voice,mr. holmes, and a look in her eyes which forbid doubt, and i am sure that it wasindeed my own safety that was in her mind.

there's the whole case, and now i want youradvice as to what i ought to do. my own inclination is to put half a dozenof my farm lads in the shrubbery, and when this fellow comes again to give him such ahiding that he will leave us in peace for the future." "i fear it is too deep a case for suchsimple remedies," said holmes. "how long can you stay in london?""i must go back to-day. i would not leave my wife alone all nightfor anything. she is very nervous, and begged me to comeback." "i daresay you are right.

but if you could have stopped, i mightpossibly have been able to return with you in a day or two. meanwhile you will leave me these papers,and i think that it is very likely that i shall be able to pay you a visit shortlyand to throw some light upon your case." sherlock holmes preserved his calmprofessional manner until our visitor had left us, although it was easy for me, whoknew him so well, to see that he was profoundly excited. the moment that hilton cubitt's broad backhad disappeared through the door my comrade rushed to the table, laid out all the slipsof paper containing dancing men in front of

him, and threw himself into an intricateand elaborate calculation. for two hours i watched him as he coveredsheet after sheet of paper with figures and letters, so completely absorbed in his taskthat he had evidently forgotten my sometimes he was making progress andwhistled and sang at his work; sometimes he was puzzled, and would sit for long spellswith a furrowed brow and a vacant eye. finally he sprang from his chair with a cryof satisfaction, and walked up and down the room rubbing his hands together.then he wrote a long telegram upon a cable form. "if my answer to this is as i hope, youwill have a very pretty case to add to your

collection, watson," said he. "i expect that we shall be able to go downto norfolk tomorrow, and to take our friend some very definite news as to the secret ofhis annoyance." i confess that i was filled with curiosity,but i was aware that holmes liked to make his disclosures at his own time and in hisown way, so i waited until it should suit him to take me into his confidence. but there was a delay in that answeringtelegram, and two days of impatience followed, during which holmes pricked uphis ears at every ring of the bell. on the evening of the second there came aletter from hilton cubitt.

all was quiet with him, save that a longinscription had appeared that morning upon the pedestal of the sundial. he inclosed a copy of it, which is herereproduced: graphic holmes bent over this grotesque frieze forsome minutes, and then suddenly sprang to his feet with an exclamation of surpriseand dismay. his face was haggard with anxiety. "we have let this affair go far enough,"said he. "is there a train to north walsham to-night?"

i turned up the time-table. the last had just gone."then we shall breakfast early and take the very first in the morning," said holmes."our presence is most urgently needed. ah! here is our expected cablegram. one moment, mrs. hudson, there may be ananswer. no, that is quite as i expected. this message makes it even more essentialthat we should not lose an hour in letting hilton cubitt know how matters stand, forit is a singular and a dangerous web in which our simple norfolk squire isentangled."

so, indeed, it proved, and as i come to thedark conclusion of a story which had seemed to me to be only childish and bizarre, iexperience once again the dismay and horror with which i was filled. would that i had some brighter ending tocommunicate to my readers, but these are the chronicles of fact, and i must followto their dark crisis the strange chain of events which for some days made riding thorpe manor a household word through thelength and breadth of england. we had hardly alighted at north walsham,and mentioned the name of our destination, when the station-master hurried towards us.

"i suppose that you are the detectives fromlondon?" said he. a look of annoyance passed over holmes'sface. "what makes you think such a thing?" "because inspector martin from norwich hasjust passed through. but maybe you are the surgeons.she's not dead--or wasn't by last accounts. you may be in time to save her yet--thoughit be for the gallows." holmes's brow was dark with anxiety. "we are going to riding thorpe manor," saidhe, "but we have heard nothing of what has passed there.""it's a terrible business," said the

stationmaster. "they are shot, both mr. hilton cubitt andhis wife. she shot him and then herself--so theservants say. he's dead and her life is despaired of. dear, dear, one of the oldest families inthe county of norfolk, and one of the most honoured." without a word holmes hurried to acarriage, and during the long seven miles' drive he never opened his mouth.seldom have i seen him so utterly despondent.

he had been uneasy during all our journeyfrom town, and i had observed that he had turned over the morning papers with anxiousattention, but now this sudden realization of his worst fears left him in a blankmelancholy. he leaned back in his seat, lost in gloomyspeculation. yet there was much around to interest us,for we were passing through as singular a countryside as any in england, where a fewscattered cottages represented the population of to-day, while on every hand enormous square-towered churches bristledup from the flat green landscape and told of the glory and prosperity of old eastanglia.

at last the violet rim of the german oceanappeared over the green edge of the norfolk coast, and the driver pointed with his whipto two old brick and timber gables which projected from a grove of trees. "that's riding thorpe manor," said he. as we drove up to the porticoed front door,i observed in front of it, beside the tennis lawn, the black tool-house and thepedestalled sundial with which we had such strange associations. a dapper little man, with a quick, alertmanner and a waxed moustache, had just descended from a high dog-cart.

he introduced himself as inspector martin,of the norfolk constabulary, and he was considerably astonished when he heard thename of my companion. "why, mr. holmes, the crime was onlycommitted at three this morning. how could you hear of it in london and getto the spot as soon as i?" "i anticipated it. i came in the hope of preventing it.""then you must have important evidence, of which we are ignorant, for they were saidto be a most united couple." "i have only the evidence of the dancingmen," said holmes. "i will explain the matter to you later.

meanwhile, since it is too late to preventthis tragedy, i am very anxious that i should use the knowledge which i possess inorder to insure that justice be done. will you associate me in yourinvestigation, or will you prefer that i should act independently?" "i should be proud to feel that we wereacting together, mr. holmes," said the inspector, earnestly. "in that case i should be glad to hear theevidence and to examine the premises without an instant of unnecessary delay." inspector martin had the good sense toallow my friend to do things in his own

fashion, and contented himself withcarefully noting the results. the local surgeon, an old, white-hairedman, had just come down from mrs. hilton cubitt's room, and he reported that herinjuries were serious, but not necessarily fatal. the bullet had passed through the front ofher brain, and it would probably be some time before she could regain consciousness. on the question of whether she had beenshot or had shot herself, he would not venture to express any decided opinion.certainly the bullet had been discharged at very close quarters.

there was only the one pistol found in theroom, two barrels of which had been emptied.mr. hilton cubitt had been shot through the heart. it was equally conceivable that he had shother and then himself, or that she had been the criminal, for the revolver lay upon thefloor midway between them. "has he been moved?" asked holmes. "we have moved nothing except the lady.we could not leave her lying wounded upon the floor.""how long have you been here, doctor?" "since four o'clock."

"anyone else?""yes, the constable here." "and you have touched nothing?""nothing." "you have acted with great discretion. who sent for you?""the housemaid, saunders." "was it she who gave the alarm?""she and mrs. king, the cook." "where are they now?" "in the kitchen, i believe.""then i think we had better hear their story at once." the old hall, oak-panelled and high-windowed, had been turned into a court of

investigation. holmes sat in a great, old-fashioned chair,his inexorable eyes gleaming out of his haggard face. i could read in them a set purpose todevote his life to this quest until the client whom he had failed to save should atlast be avenged. the trim inspector martin, the old, gray-headed country doctor, myself, and a stolid village policeman made up the rest of thatstrange company. the two women told their story clearlyenough. they had been aroused from their sleep bythe sound of an explosion, which had been

followed a minute later by a second one. they slept in adjoining rooms, and mrs.king had rushed in to saunders. together they had descended the stairs.the door of the study was open, and a candle was burning upon the table. their master lay upon his face in thecentre of the room. he was quite dead.near the window his wife was crouching, her head leaning against the wall. she was horribly wounded, and the side ofher face was red with blood. she breathed heavily, but was incapable ofsaying anything.

the passage, as well as the room, was fullof smoke and the smell of powder. the window was certainly shut and fastenedupon the inside. both women were positive upon the point. they had at once sent for the doctor andfor the constable. then, with the aid of the groom and thestable-boy, they had conveyed their injured mistress to her room. both she and her husband had occupied thebed. she was clad in her dress--he in hisdressing-gown, over his night-clothes. nothing had been moved in the study.

so far as they knew, there had never beenany quarrel between husband and wife. they had always looked upon them as a veryunited couple. these were the main points of the servants'evidence. in answer to inspector martin, they wereclear that every door was fastened upon the inside, and that no one could have escapedfrom the house. in answer to holmes, they both rememberedthat they were conscious of the smell of powder from the moment that they ran out oftheir rooms upon the top floor. "i commend that fact very carefully to yourattention," said holmes to his professional colleague.

"and now i think that we are in a positionto undertake a thorough examination of the room." the study proved to be a small chamber,lined on three sides with books, and with a writing-table facing an ordinary window,which looked out upon the garden. our first attention was given to the bodyof the unfortunate squire, whose huge frame lay stretched across the room.his disordered dress showed that he had been hastily aroused from sleep. the bullet had been fired at him from thefront, and had remained in his body, after penetrating the heart.his death had certainly been instantaneous

and painless. there was no powder-marking either upon hisdressing-gown or on his hands. according to the country surgeon, the ladyhad stains upon her face, but none upon her hand. "the absence of the latter means nothing,though its presence may mean everything," said holmes. "unless the powder from a badly fittingcartridge happens to spurt backward, one may fire many shots without leaving a sign.i would suggest that mr. cubitt's body may now be removed.

i suppose, doctor, you have not recoveredthe bullet which wounded the lady?" "a serious operation will be necessarybefore that can be done. but there are still four cartridges in therevolver. two have been fired and two woundsinflicted, so that each bullet can be accounted for." "so it would seem," said holmes."perhaps you can account also for the bullet which has so obviously struck theedge of the window?" he had turned suddenly, and his long, thinfinger was pointing to a hole which had been drilled right through the lowerwindow-sash, about an inch above the

bottom. "by george!" cried the inspector."how ever did you see that?" "because i looked for it.""wonderful!" said the country doctor. "you are certainly right, sir. then a third shot has been fired, andtherefore a third person must have been present.but who could that have been, and how could he have got away?" "that is the problem which we are now aboutto solve," said sherlock holmes. "you remember, inspector martin, when theservants said that on leaving their room

they were at once conscious of a smell ofpowder, i remarked that the point was an extremely important one?" "yes, sir; but i confess i did not quitefollow you." "it suggested that at the time of thefiring, the window as well as the door of the room had been open. otherwise the fumes of powder could nothave been blown so rapidly through the house.a draught in the room was necessary for that. both door and window were only open for avery short time, however."

"how do you prove that?""because the candle was not guttered." "capital!" cried the inspector. "capital! "feeling sure that the window had been openat the time of the tragedy, i conceived that there might have been a third personin the affair, who stood outside this opening and fired through it. any shot directed at this person might hitthe sash. i looked, and there, sure enough, was thebullet mark!" "but how came the window to be shut andfastened?"

"the woman's first instinct would be toshut and fasten the window. but, halloa! what is this?"it was a lady's hand-bag which stood upon the study table--a trim little handbag ofcrocodile-skin and silver. holmes opened it and turned the contentsout. there were twenty fifty-pound notes of thebank of england, held together by an india- rubber band--nothing else. "this must be preserved, for it will figurein the trial," said holmes, as he handed the bag with its contents to the inspector.

"it is now necessary that we should try tothrow some light upon this third bullet, which has clearly, from the splintering ofthe wood, been fired from inside the room. i should like to see mrs. king, the cook,again. you said, mrs. king, that you wereawakened by a loud explosion. when you said that, did you mean that itseemed to you to be louder than the second one?""well, sir, it wakened me from my sleep, so it is hard to judge. but it did seem very loud.""you don't think that it might have been two shots fired almost at the sameinstant?"

"i am sure i couldn't say, sir." "i believe that it was undoubtedly so.i rather think, inspector martin, that we have now exhausted all that this room canteach us. if you will kindly step round with me, weshall see what fresh evidence the garden has to offer." a flower-bed extended up to the studywindow, and we all broke into an exclamation as we approached it. the flowers were trampled down, and thesoft soil was imprinted all over with footmarks.large, masculine feet they were, with

peculiarly long, sharp toes. holmes hunted about among the grass andleaves like a retriever after a wounded bird. then, with a cry of satisfaction, he bentforward and picked up a little brazen cylinder. "i thought so," said he, "the revolver hadan ejector, and here is the third cartridge.i really think, inspector martin, that our case is almost complete." the country inspector's face had shown hisintense amazement at the rapid and

masterful progress of holmes'sinvestigation. at first he had shown some disposition toassert his own position, but now he was overcome with admiration, and ready tofollow without question wherever holmes led. "whom do you suspect?" he asked."i'll go into that later. there are several points in this problemwhich i have not been able to explain to you yet. now that i have got so far, i had bestproceed on my own lines, and then clear the whole matter up once and for all.""just as you wish, mr. holmes, so long as

we get our man." "i have no desire to make mysteries, but itis impossible at the moment of action to enter into long and complex explanations.i have the threads of this affair all in my even if this lady should never recoverconsciousness, we can still reconstruct the events of last night and insure thatjustice be done. first of all, i wish to know whether thereis any inn in this neighbourhood known as 'elrige's'?"the servants were cross-questioned, but none of them had heard of such a place. the stable-boy threw a light upon thematter by remembering that a farmer of that

name lived some miles off, in the directionof east ruston. "is it a lonely farm?" "very lonely, sir.""perhaps they have not heard yet of all that happened here during the night?""maybe not, sir." holmes thought for a little, and then acurious smile played over his face. "saddle a horse, my lad," said he."i shall wish you to take a note to elrige's farm." he took from his pocket the various slipsof the dancing men. with these in front of him, he worked forsome time at the study-table.

finally he handed a note to the boy, withdirections to put it into the hands of the person to whom it was addressed, andespecially to answer no questions of any sort which might be put to him. i saw the outside of the note, addressed instraggling, irregular characters, very unlike holmes's usual precise hand.it was consigned to mr. abe slaney, elriges farm, east ruston, norfolk. "i think, inspector," holmes remarked,"that you would do well to telegraph for an escort, as, if my calculations prove to becorrect, you may have a particularly dangerous prisoner to convey to the countyjail.

the boy who takes this note could no doubtforward your telegram. if there is an afternoon train to town,watson, i think we should do well to take it, as i have a chemical analysis of someinterest to finish, and this investigation draws rapidly to a close." when the youth had been dispatched with thenote, sherlock holmes gave his instructions to the servants. if any visitor were to call asking formrs. hilton cubitt, no information should be given as to her condition, but he was tobe shown at once into the drawing-room. he impressed these points upon them withthe utmost earnestness.

finally he led the way into the drawing-room, with the remark that the business was now out of our hands, and that we mustwhile away the time as best we might until we could see what was in store for us. the doctor had departed to his patients,and only the inspector and myself remained. "i think that i can help you to pass anhour in an interesting and profitable manner," said holmes, drawing his chair upto the table, and spreading out in front of him the various papers upon which wererecorded the antics of the dancing men. "as to you, friend watson, i owe you everyatonement for having allowed your natural curiosity to remain so long unsatisfied.

to you, inspector, the whole incident mayappeal as a remarkable professional study. i must tell you, first of all, theinteresting circumstances connected with the previous consultations which mr.hilton cubitt has had with me in baker street." he then shortly recapitulated the factswhich have already been recorded. "i have here in front of me these singularproductions, at which one might smile, had they not proved themselves to be theforerunners of so terrible a tragedy. i am fairly familiar with all forms ofsecret writings, and am myself the author of a trifling monograph upon the subject,in which i analyze one hundred and sixty

separate ciphers, but i confess that thisis entirely new to me. the object of those who invented the systemhas apparently been to conceal that these characters convey a message, and to givethe idea that they are the mere random sketches of children. "having once recognized, however, that thesymbols stood for letters, and having applied the rules which guide us in allforms of secret writings, the solution was easy enough. the first message submitted to me was soshort that it was impossible for me to do more than to say, with some confidence,that the symbol xxx stood for e.

as you are aware, e is the most commonletter in the english alphabet, and it predominates to so marked an extent thateven in a short sentence one would expect to find it most often. out of fifteen symbols in the firstmessage, four were the same, so it was reasonable to set this down as e. it is true that in some cases the figurewas bearing a flag, and in some cases not, but it was probable, from the way in whichthe flags were distributed, that they were used to break the sentence up into words. i accepted this as a hypothesis, and notedthat e was represented by xxx.

"but now came the real difficulty of theinquiry. the order of the english letters after e isby no means well marked, and any preponderance which may be shown in anaverage of a printed sheet may be reversed in a single short sentence. speaking roughly, t, a, o, i, n, s, h, r,d, and l are the numerical order in which letters occur, but t, a, o, and i are verynearly abreast of each other, and it would be an endless task to try each combinationuntil a meaning was arrived at. i therefore waited for fresh material. in my second interview with mr. hiltoncubitt he was able to give me two other

short sentences and one message, whichappeared--since there was no flag--to be a single word. here are the symbols.now, in the single word i have already got the two e's coming second and fourth in aword of five letters. it might be 'sever,' or 'lever,' or'never.' there can be no question that the latter asa reply to an appeal is far the most probable, and the circumstances pointed toits being a reply written by the lady. accepting it as correct, we are now able tosay that the symbols stand respectively for n, v, and r.

"even now i was in considerable difficulty,but a happy thought put me in possession of several other letters. it occurred to me that if these appealscame, as i expected, from someone who had been intimate with the lady in her earlylife, a combination which contained two e's with three letters between might very wellstand for the name 'elsie.' on examination i found that such acombination formed the termination of the message which was three times repeated. it was certainly some appeal to 'elsie.'in this way i had got my l, s, and i. but what appeal could it be?there were only four letters in the word

which preceded 'elsie,' and it ended in e. surely the word must be 'come.'i tried all other four letters ending in e, but could find none to fit the case. so now i was in possession of c, o, and m,and i was in a position to attack the first message once more, dividing it into wordsand putting dots for each symbol which was still unknown. so treated, it worked out in this fashion:.m .ere ..e sl.ne. "now the first letter can only be a, whichis a most useful discovery, since it occurs no fewer than three times in this shortsentence, and the h is also apparent in the

second word. now it becomes:am here a.e slane. or, filling in the obvious vacancies in thename: am here abe slaney. i had so many letters now that i couldproceed with considerable confidence to the second message, which worked out in thisfashion: a.elri. es. here i could only make sense by putting tand g for the missing letters, and

supposing that the name was that of somehouse or inn at which the writer was staying." inspector martin and i had listened withthe utmost interest to the full and clear account of how my friend had producedresults which had led to so complete a command over our difficulties. "what did you do then, sir?" asked theinspector. "i had every reason to suppose that thisabe slaney was an american, since abe is an american contraction, and since a letterfrom america had been the starting-point of all the trouble.

i had also every cause to think that therewas some criminal secret in the matter. the lady's allusions to her past, and herrefusal to take her husband into her confidence, both pointed in that direction. i therefore cabled to my friend, wilsonhargreave, of the new york police bureau, who has more than once made use of myknowledge of london crime. i asked him whether the name of abe slaneywas known to him. here is his reply: 'the most dangerouscrook in chicago.' on the very evening upon which i had hisanswer, hilton cubitt sent me the last message from slaney.working with known letters, it took this

form: elsie .re.are to meet thy go. the addition of a p and a d completed amessage which showed me that the rascal was proceeding from persuasion to threats, andmy knowledge of the crooks of chicago prepared me to find that he might veryrapidly put his words into action. i at once came to norfolk with my friendand colleague, dr. watson, but, unhappily, only in time to find that the worst hadalready occurred." "it is a privilege to be associated withyou in the handling of a case," said the inspector, warmly."you will excuse me, however, if i speak

frankly to you. you are only answerable to yourself, but ihave to answer to my superiors. if this abe slaney, living at elrige's, isindeed the murderer, and if he has made his escape while i am seated here, i shouldcertainly get into serious trouble." "you need not be uneasy. he will not try to escape.""how do you know?" "to fly would be a confession of guilt.""then let us go arrest him." "i expect him here every instant." "but why should he come.""because i have written and asked him."

"but this is incredible, mr. holmes!why should he come because you have asked him? would not such a request rather rouse hissuspicions and cause him to fly?" "i think i have known how to frame theletter," said sherlock holmes. "in fact, if i am not very much mistaken,here is the gentleman himself coming up the drive."a man was striding up the path which led to he was a tall, handsome, swarthy fellow,clad in a suit of gray flannel, with a panama hat, a bristling black beard, and agreat, aggressive hooked nose, and flourishing a cane as he walked.

he swaggered up a path as if as if theplace belonged to him, and we heard his loud, confident peal at the bell. "i think, gentlemen," said holmes, quietly,"that we had best take up our position behind the door.every precaution is necessary when dealing with such a fellow. you will need your handcuffs, inspector.you can leave the talking to me." we waited in silence for a minute--one ofthose minutes which one can never forget. then the door opened and the man steppedin. in an instant holmes clapped a pistol tohis head, and martin slipped the handcuffs

over his wrists. it was all done so swiftly and deftly thatthe fellow was helpless before he knew that he was attacked.he glared from one to the other of us with a pair of blazing black eyes. then he burst into a bitter laugh."well, gentlemen, you have the drop on me this time.i seem to have knocked up against something hard. but i came here in answer to a letter frommrs. hilton cubitt. don't tell me that she is in this?don't tell me that she helped to set a trap

for me?" " mrs. hilton cubitt was seriously injured,and is at death's door." the man gave a hoarse cry of grief, whichrang through the house. "you're crazy!" he cried, fiercely. "it was he that was hurt, not she.who would have hurt little elsie? i may have threatened her--god forgive me!--but i would not have touched a hair of her pretty head. take it back--you!say that she is not hurt!" "she was found badly wounded, by the sideof her dead husband."

he sank with a deep groan on the settee andburied his face in his manacled hands. for five minutes he was silent.then he raised his face once more, and spoke with the cold composure of despair. "i have nothing to hide from you,gentlemen," said he. "if i shot the man he had his shot at me,and there's no murder in that. but if you think i could have hurt thatwoman, then you don't know either me or her.i tell you, there was never a man in this world loved a woman more than i loved her. i had a right to her.she was pledged to me years ago.

who was this englishman that he should comebetween us? i tell you that i had the first right toher, and that i was only claiming my own. "she broke away from your influence whenshe found the man that you are," said holmes, sternly. "she fled from america to avoid you, andshe married an honourable gentleman in england. you dogged her and followed her and madeher life a misery to her, in order to induce her to abandon the husband whom sheloved and respected in order to fly with you, whom she feared and hated.

you have ended by bringing about the deathof a noble man and driving his wife to suicide. that is your record in this business, mr.abe slaney, and you will answer for it to the law.""if elsie dies, i care nothing what becomes of me," said the american. he opened one of his hands, and looked at anote crumpled up in his palm. "see here, mister! he cried, with a gleamof suspicion in his eyes, "you're not trying to scare me over this, are you? if the lady is hurt as bad as you say, whowas it that wrote this note?"

he tossed it forward on to the table."i wrote it, to bring you here." "you wrote it? there was no one on earth outside the jointwho knew the secret of the dancing men. how came you to write it?""what one man can invent another can discover," said holmes. there is a cab coming to convey you tonorwich, mr. slaney. but meanwhile, you have time to make somesmall reparation for the injury you have wrought. are you aware that mrs. hilton cubitt hasherself lain under grave suspicion of the

murder of her husband, and that it was onlymy presence here, and the knowledge which i happened to possess, which has saved herfrom the accusation? the least that you owe her is to make itclear to the whole world that she was in no way, directly or indirectly, responsiblefor his tragic end." "i ask nothing better," said the american. "i guess the very best case i can make formyself is the absolute naked truth." "it is my duty to warn you that it will beused against you," cried the inspector, with the magnificent fair play of thebritish criminal law. slaney shrugged his shoulders.

"i'll chance that," said he."first of all, i want you gentlemen to understand that i have known this ladysince she was a child. there were seven of us in a gang inchicago, and elsie's father was the boss of the joint.he was a clever man, was old patrick. it was he who invented that writing, whichwould pass as a child's scrawl unless you just happened to have the key to it. well, elsie learned some of our ways, butshe couldn't stand the business, and she had a bit of honest money of her own, soshe gave us all the slip and got away to london.

she had been engaged to me, and she wouldhave married me, i believe, if i had taken over another profession, but she would havenothing to do with anything on the cross. it was only after her marriage to thisenglishman that i was able to find out where she was.i wrote to her, but got no answer. after that i came over, and, as letterswere no use, i put my messages where she could read them."well, i have been here a month now. i lived in that farm, where i had a roomdown below, and could get in and out every night, and no one the wiser.i tried all i could to coax elsie away. i knew that she read the messages, for onceshe wrote an answer under one of them.

then my temper got the better of me, and ibegan to threaten her. she sent me a letter then, imploring me togo away, and saying that it would break her heart if any scandal should come upon herhusband. she said that she would come down when herhusband was asleep at three in the morning, and speak with me through the end window,if i would go away afterwards and leave her in peace. she came down and brought money with her,trying to bribe me to go. this made me mad, and i caught her arm andtried to pull her through the window. at that moment in rushed the husband withhis revolver in his hand.

elsie had sunk down upon the floor, and wewere face to face. i was heeled also, and i held up my gun toscare him off and let me get away. he fired and missed me.i pulled off almost at the same instant, and down he dropped. i made away across the garden, and as iwent i heard the window shut behind me. that's god's truth, gentlemen, every wordof it, and i heard no more about it until that lad came riding up with a note whichmade me walk in here, like a jay, and give myself into your hands." a cab had driven up whilst the american hadbeen talking.

two uniformed policemen sat inside.inspector martin rose and touched his prisoner on the shoulder. "it is time for us to go.""can i see her first?" "no, she is not conscious. mr. sherlock holmes, i only hope that ifever again i have an important case, i shall have the good fortune to have you bymy side." we stood at the window and watched the cabdrive away. as i turned back, my eye caught the pelletof paper which the prisoner had tossed upon the table.

it was the note with which holmes haddecoyed him. "see if you can read it, watson," said he,with a smile. it contained no word, but this little lineof dancing men: "if you use the code which i haveexplained," said holmes, "you will find that it simply means 'come here at once.' i was convinced that it was an invitationwhich he would not refuse, since he could never imagine that it could come fromanyone but the lady. and so, my dear watson, we have ended byturning the dancing men to good when they have so often been the agents of evil, andi think that i have fulfilled my promise of

giving you something unusual for yournotebook. three-forty is our train, and i fancy weshould be back in baker street for dinner." only one word of epilogue. the american, abe slaney, was condemned todeath at the winter assizes at norwich, but his penalty was changed to penal servitudein consideration of mitigating circumstances, and the certainty thathilton cubitt had fired the first shot. of mrs. hilton cubitt i only know that ihave heard she recovered entirely, and that she still remains a widow, devoting herwhole life to the care of the poor and to the administration of her husband's estate.

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