“It is an art which is often useful,” said he. “When I recoveredI managed, by a device which had perhaps some little merit ofingenuity, to get old Cunningham to write the word ’twelve,’ sothat I might compare it with the ’twelve’ upon the paper.”
“Oh, what an ass I have been!” I exclaimed.
“I could see that you were commiserating me over myweakness,” said Holmes, laughing. “I was sorry to cause youthe sympathetic pain which I know that you felt. We thenwent upstairs together, and having entered the room and seenthe dressing-gown hanging up behind the door, I contrived, byupsetting a table, to engage their attention for the moment, andslipped back to examine the pockets. I had hardly got the paper,however—which was, as I had expected, in one of them—whenthe two Cunninghams were on me, and would, I verily believe,have murdered me then and there but for your prompt andfriendly aid. As it is, I feel that young man’s grip on my throat now,and the father has twisted my wrist round in the effort to get thepaper out of my hand. They saw that I must know all about it, yousee, and the sudden change from absolute security to completedespair made them perfectly desperate.
“I had a little talk with old Cunningham afterwards as to themotive of the crime. He was tractable enough, though his sonwas a perfect demon, ready to blow out his own or anybody else’sbrains if he could have got to his revolver. When Cunninghamsaw that the case against him was so strong he lost all heart andmade a clean breast of everything. It seems that William hadsecretly followed his two masters on the night when they madetheir raid upon Mr. Acton’s, and having thus got them into hispower, proceeded, under threats of exposure, to levy blackmailupon them. Mr. Alec, however, was a dangerous man to play gamesof that sort with. It was a stroke of positive genius on his partto see in the burglary scare which was convulsing the countryside an opportunity of plausibly getting rid of the man whom hefeared. William was decoyed up and shot, and had they only gotthe whole of the note and paid a little more attention to detail inthe accessories, it is very possible that suspicion might never havebeen aroused.”
“And the note?” I asked.
Sherlock Holmes placed the subjoined paper before us.
“It is very much the sort of thing that I expected,” said he. “Ofcourse, we do not yet know what the relations may have beenbetween Alec Cunningham, William Kirwan, and Annie Morrison.
The results shows that the trap was skillfully baited. I am sure thatyou cannot fail to be delighted with the traces of heredity shown inthe p’s and in the tails of the g’s. The absence of the i-dots in theold man’s writing is also most characteristic. Watson, I think ourquiet rest in the country has been a distinct success, and I shallcertainly return much invigorated to Baker Street to-morrow.”
The Crooked Man
One summer night, a few months after my marriage, I wasseated by my own hearth smoking a last pipe and nodding overa novel, for my day’s work had been an exhausting one. My wifehad already gone upstairs, and the sound of the locking of the halldoor some time before told me that the servants had also retired.
I had risen from my seat and was knocking out the ashes of mypipe when I suddenly heard the clang of the bell.
I looked at the clock. It was a quarter to twelve. This could notbe a visitor at so late an hour. A patient, evidently, and possiblyan all-night sitting. With a wry face I went out into the hall andopened the door. To my astonishment it was Sherlock Holmeswho stood upon my step.
“Ah, Watson,” said he, “I hoped that I might not be too late tocatch you.”
“My dear fellow, pray come in.”
“You look surprised, and no wonder! Relieved, too, I fancy!
Hum! You still smoke the Arcadia mixture of your bachelor daysthen! There’s no mistaking that fluffy ash upon your coat. It’s easyto tell that you have been accustomed to wear a uniform, Watson.
You’ll never pass as a pure-bred civilian as long as you keep thathabit of carrying your handkerchief in your sleeve. Could you putme up to-night?”
“With pleasure.”
“You told me that you had bachelor quarters for one, and I seethat you have no gentleman visitor at present. Your hat-standproclaims as much.”
“I shall be delighted if you will stay.”
“Thank you. I’ll fill the vacant peg then. Sorry to see that you’vehad the British workman in the house. He’s a token of evil. Notthe drains, I hope?”
“No, the gas.”
“Ah! He has left two nail-marks from his boot upon yourlinoleum just where the light strikes it. No, thank you, I had somesupper at Waterloo, but I’ll smoke a pipe with you with pleasure.”
I handed him my pouch, and he seated himself opposite tome and smoked for some time in silence. I was well aware thatnothing but business of importance would have brought him tome at such an hour, so I waited patiently until he should comeround to it.
“I see that you are professionally rather busy just now,” said he,glancing very keenly across at me.
“Yes, I’ve had a busy day,” I answered. “It may seem very foolishin your eyes,” I added, “but really I don’t know how you deduced it.”
Holmes chuckled to himself.
“I have the advantage of knowing your habits, my dear Watson,”
said he. “When your round is a short one you walk, and when itis a long one you use a hansom. As I perceive that your boots,although used, are by no means dirty, I cannot doubt that you areat present busy enough to justify the hansom.”
“Excellent!” I cried.
