Chapter IV: Part 4

The man whom I found myself facing was a well-built,
fresh-complexioned young fellow, with a frank, honest face and a
slight, crisp, yellow moustache. He wore a very shiny top hat and
a neat suit of sober black, which made him look what he was—a
smart young City man, of the class who have been labeled
cockneys, but who give us our crack volunteer regiments, and who
turn out more fine athletes and sportsmen than any body of men in
these islands. His round, ruddy face was naturally full of
cheeriness, but the corners of his mouth seemed to me to be
pulled down in a half-comical distress. It was not, however,
until we were all in a first-class carriage and well started upon
our journey to Birmingham that I was able to learn what the
trouble was which had driven him to Sherlock Holmes.

“We have a clear run here of seventy minutes,” Holmes remarked.
“I want you, Mr. Hall Pycroft, to tell my friend your very
interesting experience exactly as you have told it to me, or with
more detail if possible. It will be of use to me to hear the
succession of events again. It is a case, Watson, which may prove
to have something in it, or may prove to have nothing, but which,
at least, presents those unusual and _outré_ features which are
as dear to you as they are to me. Now, Mr. Pycroft, I shall not
interrupt you again.”

Our young companion looked at me with a twinkle in his eye.

“The worst of the story is,” said he, “that I show myself up as
such a confounded fool. Of course it may work out all right, and
I don’t see that I could have done otherwise; but if I have lost
my crib and get nothing in exchange I shall feel what a soft
Johnnie I have been. I’m not very good at telling a story, Dr.
Watson, but it is like this with me:

“I used to have a billet at Coxon & Woodhouse, of Drapers’
Gardens, but they were let in early in the spring through the
Venezuelan loan, as no doubt you remember, and came a nasty
cropper. I had been with them five years, and old Coxon gave me a
ripping good testimonial when the smash came, but of course we
clerks were all turned adrift, the twenty-seven of us. I tried
here and tried there, but there were lots of other chaps on the
same lay as myself, and it was a perfect frost for a long time. I
had been taking three pounds a week at Coxon’s, and I had saved
about seventy of them, but I soon worked my way through that and
out at the other end. I was fairly at the end of my tether at
last, and could hardly find the stamps to answer the
advertisements or the envelopes to stick them to. I had worn out
my boots paddling up office stairs, and I seemed just as far from
getting a billet as ever.

“At last I saw a vacancy at Mawson & Williams’, the great
stockbroking firm in Lombard Street. I daresay E.C. is not much
in your line, but I can tell you that this is about the richest
house in London. The advertisement was to be answered by letter
only. I sent in my testimonial and application, but without the
least hope of getting it. Back came an answer by return, saying
that if I would appear next Monday I might take over my new
duties at once, provided that my appearance was satisfactory. No
one knows how these things are worked. Some people say that the
manager just plunges his hand into the heap and takes the first
that comes. Anyhow it was my innings that time, and I don’t ever
wish to feel better pleased. The screw was a pound a week rise,
and the duties just about the same as at Coxon’s.

“And now I come to the queer part of the business. I was in
diggings out Hampstead way—17, Potter’s Terrace. Well, I was
sitting doing a smoke that very evening after I had been promised
the appointment, when up came my landlady with a card which had
‘Arthur Pinner, Financial Agent,’ printed upon it. I had never
heard the name before and could not imagine what he wanted with
me; but, of course, I asked her to show him up. In he walked, a
middle-sized, dark-haired, dark-eyed, black-bearded man, with a
touch of the Sheeny about his nose. He had a brisk kind of way
with him and spoke sharply, like a man who knew the value of
time.”

“‘Mr. Hall Pycroft, I believe?’” said he.

“‘Yes, sir,’ I answered, pushing a chair towards him.

“‘Lately engaged at Coxon & Woodhouse’s?’

“‘Yes, sir.’

“‘And now on the staff of Mawson’s.’

“‘Quite so.’

“‘Well,’ said he, ‘the fact is that I have heard some really
extraordinary stories about your financial ability. You remember
Parker, who used to be Coxon’s manager? He can never say enough
about it.’

“Of course I was pleased to hear this. I had always been pretty
sharp in the office, but I had never dreamed that I was talked
about in the City in this fashion.

“‘You have a good memory?’ said he.

“‘Pretty fair,’ I answered, modestly.

“‘Have you kept in touch with the market while you have been out
of work?’ he asked.

“‘Yes; I read the Stock Exchange List every morning.’

“‘Now that shows real application!’ he cried. ‘That is the way to
prosper! You won’t mind my testing you, will you? Let me see. How
are Ayrshires?’

“‘A hundred and six and a quarter to a hundred and five and
seven-eighths.’

“‘And New Zealand Consolidated?’

“‘A hundred and four.

“‘And British Broken Hills?’

“‘Seven to seven-and-six.’

“‘Wonderful!’ he cried, with his hands up. ‘This quite fits in
with all that I had heard. My boy, my boy, you are very much too
good to be a clerk at Mawson’s!’

“This outburst rather astonished me, as you can think. ‘Well,’
said I, ‘other people don’t think quite so much of me as you seem
to do, Mr. Pinner. I had a hard enough fight to get this berth,
and I am very glad to have it.’

“‘Pooh, man; you should soar above it. You are not in your true
sphere. Now, I’ll tell you how it stands with me. What I have to
offer is little enough when measured by your ability, but when
compared with Mawson’s, it’s light to dark. Let me see. When do
you go to Mawson’s?’

“‘On Monday.’

“‘Ha, ha! I think I would risk a little sporting flutter that you
don’t go there at all.’

“‘Not go to Mawson’s?’

“‘No, sir. By that day you will be the business manager of the
Franco-Midland Hardware Company, Limited, with a hundred and
thirty-four branches in the towns and villages of France, not
counting one in Brussels and one in San Remo.’

“This took my breath away. ‘I never heard of it,’ said I.

“‘Very likely not. It has been kept very quiet, for the capital
was all privately subscribed, and it’s too good a thing to let
the public into. My brother, Harry Pinner, is promoter, and joins
the board after allotment as managing director. He knew I was in
the swim down here, and asked me to pick up a good man cheap. A
young, pushing man with plenty of snap about him. Parker spoke of
you, and that brought me here to-night. We can only offer you a
beggarly five hundred to start with.’

“‘Five hundred a year!’ I shouted.

“‘Only that at the beginning; but you are to have an overriding
commission of one per cent on all business done by your agents,
and you may take my word for it that this will come to more than
your salary.’

“‘But I know nothing about hardware.’

“‘Tut, my boy; you know about figures.’

“My head buzzed, and I could hardly sit still in my chair. But
suddenly a little chill of doubt came upon me.

“‘I must be frank with you,’ said I. ‘Mawson only gives me two
hundred, but Mawson is safe. Now, really, I know so little about
your company that—’

“‘Ah, smart, smart!’ he cried, in a kind of ecstasy of delight.
‘You are the very man for us. You are not to be talked over, and
quite right, too. Now, here’s a note for a hundred pounds, and if
you think that we can do business you may just slip it into your
pocket as an advance upon your salary.’

“‘That is very handsome,’ said I. ‘When should I take over my new
duties?’

“‘Be in Birmingham to-morrow at one,’ said he. ‘I have a note in
my pocket here which you will take to my brother. You will find
him at 126B, Corporation Street, where the temporary offices of
the company are situated. Of course he must confirm your
engagement, but between ourselves it will be all right.’

“‘Really, I hardly know how to express my gratitude, Mr. Pinner,’
said I.

“‘Not at all, my boy. You have only got your deserts. There are
one or two small things—mere formalities—which I must arrange
with you. You have a bit of paper beside you there. Kindly write
upon it “I am perfectly willing to act as business manager to the
Franco-Midland Hardware Company, Limited, at a minimum salary of
£500.”’

“I did as he asked, and he put the paper in his pocket.

“‘There is one other detail,’ said he. ‘What do you intend to do
about Mawson’s?’

“I had forgotten all about Mawson’s in my joy. ‘I’ll write and
resign,’ said I.

“‘Precisely what I don’t want you to do. I had a row over you
with Mawson’s manager. I had gone up to ask him about you, and he
was very offensive; accused me of coaxing you away from the
service of the firm, and that sort of thing. At last I fairly
lost my temper. “If you want good men you should pay them a good
price,” said I.’

“‘He would rather have our small price than your big one,’ said
he.

“‘I’ll lay you a fiver,’ said I, ‘that when he has my offer
you’ll never so much as hear from him again.’

“‘Done!’ said he. ‘We picked him out of the gutter, and he won’t
leave us so easily.’ Those were his very words.”

“‘The impudent scoundrel!’ I cried. ‘I’ve never so much as seen
him in my life. Why should I consider him in any way? I shall
certainly not write if you would rather I didn’t.’

“‘Good! That’s a promise,’ said he, rising from his chair. ‘Well,
I’m delighted to have got so good a man for my brother. Here’s
your advance of a hundred pounds, and here is the letter. Make a
note of the address, 126B, Corporation Street, and remember that
one o’clock to-morrow is your appointment. Good-night; and may
you have all the fortune that you deserve!’

“That’s just about all that passed between us, as near as I can
remember. You can imagine, Dr. Watson, how pleased I was at such
an extraordinary bit of good fortune. I sat up half the night
hugging myself over it, and next day I was off to Birmingham in a
train that would take me in plenty time for my appointment. I
took my things to a hotel in New Street, and then I made my way
to the address which had been given me.

“It was a quarter of an hour before my time, but I thought that
would make no difference. 126B, was a passage between two large
shops, which led to a winding stone stair, from which there were
many flats, let as offices to companies or professional men. The
names of the occupants were painted at the bottom on the wall,
but there was no such name as the Franco-Midland Hardware
Company, Limited. I stood for a few minutes with my heart in my
boots, wondering whether the whole thing was an elaborate hoax or
not, when up came a man and addressed me. He was very like the
chap I had seen the night before, the same figure and voice, but
he was clean shaven and his hair was lighter.

“‘Are you Mr. Hall Pycroft?’ he asked.

“‘Yes,’ said I.

“‘Oh! I was expecting you, but you are a trifle before your time.
I had a note from my brother this morning in which he sang your
praises very loudly.’

“‘I was just looking for the offices when you came.’

“‘We have not got our name up yet, for we only secured these
temporary premises last week. Come up with me, and we will talk
the matter over.’

“I followed him to the top of a very lofty stair, and there,
right under the slates, were a couple of empty, dusty little
rooms, uncarpeted and uncurtained, into which he led me. I had
thought of a great office with shining tables and rows of clerks,
such as I was used to, and I daresay I stared rather straight at
the two deal chairs and one little table, which, with a ledger
and a waste paper basket, made up the whole furniture.

“‘Don’t be disheartened, Mr. Pycroft,’ said my new acquaintance,
seeing the length of my face. ‘Rome was not built in a day, and
we have lots of money at our backs, though we don’t cut much dash
yet in offices. Pray sit down, and let me have your letter.’

“I gave it to him, and he read it over very carefully.

“‘You seem to have made a vast impression upon my brother
Arthur,’ said he; ‘and I know that he is a pretty shrewd judge.
He swears by London, you know; and I by Birmingham; but this time
I shall follow his advice. Pray consider yourself definitely
engaged.’

“‘What are my duties?’ I asked.

“‘You will eventually manage the great depôt in Paris, which will
pour a flood of English crockery into the shops of a hundred and
thirty-four agents in France. The purchase will be completed in a
week, and meanwhile you will remain in Birmingham and make
yourself useful.’

“‘How?’

“For answer, he took a big red book out of a drawer.

“‘This is a directory of Paris,’ said he, ‘with the trades after
the names of the people. I want you to take it home with you, and
to mark off all the hardware sellers, with their addresses. It
would be of the greatest use to me to have them.’

“‘Surely there are classified lists?’ I suggested.

“‘Not reliable ones. Their system is different from ours. Stick
at it, and let me have the lists by Monday, at twelve. Good-day,
Mr. Pycroft. If you continue to show zeal and intelligence you
will find the company a good master.’

“I went back to the hotel with the big book under my arm, and
with very conflicting feelings in my breast. On the one hand, I
was definitely engaged and had a hundred pounds in my pocket; on
the other, the look of the offices, the absence of name on the
wall, and other of the points which would strike a business man
had left a bad impression as to the position of my employers.
However, come what might, I had my money, so I settled down to my
task. All Sunday I was kept hard at work, and yet by Monday I had
only got as far as H. I went round to my employer, found him in
the same dismantled kind of room, and was told to keep at it
until Wednesday, and then come again. On Wednesday it was still
unfinished, so I hammered away until Friday—that is, yesterday.
Then I brought it round to Mr. Harry Pinner.

“‘Thank you very much,’ said he; ‘I fear that I underrated the
difficulty of the task. This list will be of very material
assistance to me.’

“‘It took some time,’ said I.

“‘And now,’ said he, ‘I want you to make a list of the furniture
shops, for they all sell crockery.’

“‘Very good.’

“‘And you can come up to-morrow evening, at seven, and let me
know how you are getting on. Don’t overwork yourself. A couple of
hours at Day’s Music Hall in the evening would do you no harm
after your labours.’ He laughed as he spoke, and I saw with a
thrill that his second tooth upon the left-hand side had been
very badly stuffed with gold.”

Sherlock Holmes rubbed his hands with delight, and I stared with
astonishment at our client.

“You may well look surprised, Dr. Watson; but it is this way,”
said he: “When I was speaking to the other chap in London, at the
time that he laughed at my not going to Mawson’s, I happened to
notice that his tooth was stuffed in this very identical fashion.
The glint of the gold in each case caught my eye, you see. When I
put that with the voice and figure being the same, and only those
things altered which might be changed by a razor or a wig, I
could not doubt that it was the same man. Of course you expect
two brothers to be alike, but not that they should have the same
tooth stuffed in the same way. He bowed me out, and I found
myself in the street, hardly knowing whether I was on my head or
my heels. Back I went to my hotel, put my head in a basin of cold
water, and tried to think it out. Why had he sent me from London
to Birmingham? Why had he got there before me? And why had he
written a letter from himself to himself? It was altogether too
much for me, and I could make no sense of it. And then suddenly
it struck me that what was dark to me might be very light to Mr.
Sherlock Holmes. I had just time to get up to town by the night
train to see him this morning, and to bring you both back with me
to Birmingham.”

There was a pause after the stockbroker’s clerk had concluded his
surprising experience. Then Sherlock Holmes cocked his eye at me,
leaning back on the cushions with a pleased and yet critical
face, like a connoisseur who has just taken his first sip of a
comet vintage.

“Rather fine, Watson, is it not?” said he. “There are points in
it which please me. I think that you will agree with me that an
interview with Mr. Arthur Harry Pinner in the temporary offices
of the Franco-Midland Hardware Company, Limited, would be a
rather interesting experience for both of us.”

“But how can we do it?” I asked.

“Oh, easily enough,” said Hall Pycroft, cheerily. “You are two
friends of mine who are in want of a billet, and what could be
more natural than that I should bring you both round to the
managing director?”

“Quite so, of course,” said Holmes. “I should like to have a look
at the gentleman, and see if I can make anything of his little
game. What qualities have you, my friend, which would make your
services so valuable? or is it possible that—” He began biting
his nails and staring blankly out of the window, and we hardly
drew another word from him until we were in New Street.

At seven o’clock that evening we were walking, the three of us,
down Corporation Street to the company’s offices.

“It is no use our being at all before our time,” said our client.
“He only comes there to see me, apparently, for the place is
deserted up to the very hour he names.”

“That is suggestive,” remarked Holmes.

“By Jove, I told you so!” cried the clerk. “That’s he walking
ahead of us there.”

He pointed to a smallish, dark, well-dressed man who was bustling
along the other side of the road. As we watched him he looked
across at a boy who was bawling out the latest edition of the
evening paper, and running over among the cabs and busses, he
bought one from him. Then, clutching it in his hand, he vanished
through a doorway.

“There he goes!” cried Hall Pycroft. “These are the company’s
offices into which he has gone. Come with me, and I’ll fix it up
as easily as possible.”

Following his lead, we ascended five stories, until we found
ourselves outside a half-opened door, at which our client tapped.
A voice within bade us enter, and we entered a bare, unfurnished
room such as Hall Pycroft had described. At the single table sat
the man whom we had seen in the street, with his evening paper
spread out in front of him, and as he looked up at us it seemed
to me that I had never looked upon a face which bore such marks
of grief, and of something beyond grief—of a horror such as comes
to few men in a lifetime. His brow glistened with perspiration,
his cheeks were of the dull, dead white of a fish’s belly, and
his eyes were wild and staring. He looked at his clerk as though
he failed to recognise him, and I could see by the astonishment
depicted upon our conductor’s face that this was by no means the
usual appearance of his employer.

“You look ill, Mr. Pinner!” he exclaimed.

“Yes, I am not very well,” answered the other, making obvious
efforts to pull himself together, and licking his dry lips before
he spoke. “Who are these gentlemen whom you have brought with
you?”

“One is Mr. Harris, of Bermondsey, and the other is Mr. Price, of
this town,” said our clerk, glibly. “They are friends of mine and
gentlemen of experience, but they have been out of a place for
some little time, and they hoped that perhaps you might find an
opening for them in the company’s employment.”

“Very possibly! Very possibly!” cried Mr. Pinner with a ghastly
smile. “Yes, I have no doubt that we shall be able to do
something for you. What is your particular line, Mr. Harris?”

“I am an accountant,” said Holmes.

“Ah yes, we shall want something of the sort. And you, Mr.
Price?”

“A clerk,” said I.

“I have every hope that the company may accommodate you. I will
let you know about it as soon as we come to any conclusion. And
now I beg that you will go. For God’s sake leave me to myself!”

These last words were shot out of him, as though the constraint
which he was evidently setting upon himself had suddenly and
utterly burst asunder. Holmes and I glanced at each other, and
Hall Pycroft took a step towards the table.

“You forget, Mr. Pinner, that I am here by appointment to receive
some directions from you,” said he.

“Certainly, Mr. Pycroft, certainly,” the other resumed in a
calmer tone. “You may wait here a moment; and there is no reason
why your friends should not wait with you. I will be entirely at
your service in three minutes, if I might trespass upon your
patience so far.” He rose with a very courteous air, and, bowing
to us, he passed out through a door at the farther end of the
room, which he closed behind him.

“What now?” whispered Holmes. “Is he giving us the slip?”

“Impossible,” answered Pycroft.

“Why so?”

“That door leads into an inner room.”

“There is no exit?”

“None.”

“Is it furnished?”

“It was empty yesterday.”

“Then what on earth can he be doing? There is something which I
don’t understand in this manner. If ever a man was three parts
mad with terror, that man’s name is Pinner. What can have put the
shivers on him?”

“He suspects that we are detectives,” I suggested.

“That’s it,” cried Pycroft.

Holmes shook his head. “He did not turn pale. He was pale when we
entered the room,” said he. “It is just possible that—”

His words were interrupted by a sharp rat-tat from the direction
of the inner door.

“What the deuce is he knocking at his own door for?” cried the
clerk.

Again and much louder came the rat-tat-tat. We all gazed
expectantly at the closed door. Glancing at Holmes, I saw his
face turn rigid, and he leaned forward in intense excitement.
Then suddenly came a low guggling, gargling sound, and a brisk
drumming upon woodwork. Holmes sprang frantically across the room
and pushed at the door. It was fastened on the inner side.
Following his example, we threw ourselves upon it with all our
weight. One hinge snapped, then the other, and down came the door
with a crash. Rushing over it, we found ourselves in the inner
room. It was empty.

But it was only for a moment that we were at fault. At one
corner, the corner nearest the room which we had left, there was
a second door. Holmes sprang to it and pulled it open. A coat and
waistcoat were lying on the floor, and from a hook behind the
door, with his own braces round his neck, was hanging the
managing director of the Franco-Midland Hardware Company. His
knees were drawn up, his head hung at a dreadful angle to his
body, and the clatter of his heels against the door made the
noise which had broken in upon our conversation. In an instant I
had caught him round the waist, and held him up while Holmes and
Pycroft untied the elastic bands which had disappeared between
the livid creases of skin. Then we carried him into the other
room, where he lay with a clay-coloured face, puffing his purple
lips in and out with every breath—a dreadful wreck of all that he
had been but five minutes before.

“What do you think of him, Watson?” asked Holmes.

I stooped over him and examined him. His pulse was feeble and
intermittent, but his breathing grew longer, and there was a
little shivering of his eyelids, which showed a thin white slit
of ball beneath.

“It has been touch and go with him,” said I, “but he’ll live now.
Just open that window, and hand me the water carafe.” I undid his
collar, poured the cold water over his face, and raised and sank
his arms until he drew a long, natural breath. “It’s only a
question of time now,” said I, as I turned away from him.

Holmes stood by the table, with his hands deep in his trouser’s
pockets and his chin upon his breast.

“I suppose we ought to call the police in now,” said he. “And yet
I confess that I’d like to give them a complete case when they
come.”

“It’s a blessed mystery to me,” cried Pycroft, scratching his
head. “Whatever they wanted to bring me all the way up here for,
and then—”

“Pooh! All that is clear enough,” said Holmes impatiently. “It is
this last sudden move.”

“You understand the rest, then?”

“I think that it is fairly obvious. What do you say, Watson?”

I shrugged my shoulders. “I must confess that I am out of my
depths,” said I.

“Oh, surely if you consider the events at first they can only
point to one conclusion.”

“What do you make of them?”

“Well, the whole thing hinges upon two points. The first is the
making of Pycroft write a declaration by which he entered the
service of this preposterous company. Do you not see how very
suggestive that is?”

“I am afraid I miss the point.”

“Well, why did they want him to do it? Not as a business matter,
for these arrangements are usually verbal, and there was no
earthly business reason why this should be an exception. Don’t
you see, my young friend, that they were very anxious to obtain a
specimen of your handwriting, and had no other way of doing it?”

“And why?”

“Quite so. Why? When we answer that we have made some progress
with our little problem. Why? There can be only one adequate
reason. Some one wanted to learn to imitate your writing, and had
to procure a specimen of it first. And now if we pass on to the
second point we find that each throws light upon the other. That
point is the request made by Pinner that you should not resign
your place, but should leave the manager of this important
business in the full expectation that a Mr. Hall Pycroft, whom he
had never seen, was about to enter the office upon the Monday
morning.”

“My God!” cried our client, “what a blind beetle I have been!”

“Now you see the point about the handwriting. Suppose that some
one turned up in your place who wrote a completely different hand
from that in which you had applied for the vacancy, of course the
game would have been up. But in the interval the rogue had
learned to imitate you, and his position was therefore secure, as
I presume that nobody in the office had ever set eyes upon you.”

“Not a soul,” groaned Hall Pycroft.

“Very good. Of course it was of the utmost importance to prevent
you from thinking better of it, and also to keep you from coming
into contact with any one who might tell you that your double was
at work in Mawson’s office. Therefore they gave you a handsome
advance on your salary, and ran you off to the Midlands, where
they gave you enough work to do to prevent your going to London,
where you might have burst their little game up. That is all
plain enough.”

“But why should this man pretend to be his own brother?”

“Well, that is pretty clear also. There are evidently only two of
them in it. The other is impersonating you at the office. This
one acted as your engager, and then found that he could not find
you an employer without admitting a third person into his plot.
That he was most unwilling to do. He changed his appearance as
far as he could, and trusted that the likeness, which you could
not fail to observe, would be put down to a family resemblance.
But for the happy chance of the gold stuffing, your suspicions
would probably never have been aroused.”

Hall Pycroft shook his clinched hands in the air. “Good Lord!” he
cried, “while I have been fooled in this way, what has this other
Hall Pycroft been doing at Mawson’s? What should we do, Mr.
Holmes? Tell me what to do.”

“We must wire to Mawson’s.”

“They shut at twelve on Saturdays.”

“Never mind. There may be some door-keeper or attendant—”

“Ah yes, they keep a permanent guard there on account of the
value of the securities that they hold. I remember hearing it
talked of in the City.”

“Very good; we shall wire to him, and see if all is well, and if
a clerk of your name is working there. That is clear enough; but
what is not so clear is why at sight of us one of the rogues
should instantly walk out of the room and hang himself.”

“The paper!” croaked a voice behind us. The man was sitting up,
blanched and ghastly, with returning reason in his eyes, and
hands which rubbed nervously at the broad red band which still
encircled his throat.

“The paper! Of course!” yelled Holmes, in a paroxysm of
excitement. “Idiot that I was! I thought so much of our visit
that the paper never entered my head for an instant. To be sure,
the secret must be there.” He flattened it out upon the table,
and a cry of triumph burst from his lips. “Look at this, Watson,”
he cried. “It is a London paper, an early edition of the _Evening
Standard_. Here is what we want. Look at the headlines: ‘Crime in
the City. Murder at Mawson & Williams’. Gigantic Attempted
Robbery. Capture of the Criminal.’ Here, Watson, we are all
equally anxious to hear it, so kindly read it aloud to us.”

It appeared from its position in the paper to have been the one
event of importance in town, and the account of it ran in this
way:

“A desperate attempt at robbery, culminating in the death of one
man and the capture of the criminal, occurred this afternoon in
the City. For some time back Mawson & Williams, the famous
financial house, have been the guardians of securities which
amount in the aggregate to a sum of considerably over a million
sterling. So conscious was the manager of the responsibility
which devolved upon him in consequence of the great interests at
stake that safes of the very latest construction have been
employed, and an armed watchman has been left day and night in
the building. It appears that last week a new clerk named Hall
Pycroft was engaged by the firm. This person appears to have been
none other than Beddington, the famous forger and cracksman, who,
with his brother, had only recently emerged from a five years’
spell of penal servitude. By some means, which are not yet clear,
he succeeded in winning, under a false name, this official
position in the office, which he utilised in order to obtain
moulding of various locks, and a thorough knowledge of the
position of the strong room and the safes.

“It is customary at Mawson’s for the clerks to leave at midday on
Saturday. Sergeant Tuson, of the City Police, was somewhat
surprised, therefore to see a gentleman with a carpet bag come
down the steps at twenty minutes past one. His suspicions being
aroused, the sergeant followed the man, and with the aid of
Constable Pollock succeeded, after a most desperate resistance,
in arresting him. It was at once clear that a daring and gigantic
robbery had been committed. Nearly a hundred thousand pounds’
worth of American railway bonds, with a large amount of scrip in
other mines and companies, was discovered in the bag. On
examining the premises the body of the unfortunate watchman was
found doubled up and thrust into the largest of the safes, where
it would not have been discovered until Monday morning had it not
been for the prompt action of Sergeant Tuson. The man’s skull had
been shattered by a blow from a poker delivered from behind.
There could be no doubt that Beddington had obtained entrance by
pretending that he had left something behind him, and having
murdered the watchman, rapidly rifled the large safe, and then
made off with his booty. His brother, who usually works with him,
has not appeared in this job as far as can at present be
ascertained, although the police are making energetic inquiries
as to his whereabouts.”

“Well, we may save the police some little trouble in that
direction,” said Holmes, glancing at the haggard figure huddled
up by the window. “Human nature is a strange mixture, Watson. You
see that even a villain and murderer can inspire such affection
that his brother turns to suicide when he learns that his neck is
forfeited. However, we have no choice as to our action. The
doctor and I will remain on guard, Mr. Pycroft, if you will have
the kindness to step out for the police.”

V. The “_Gloria Scott_”

“I have some papers here,” said my friend Sherlock Holmes, as we
sat one winter’s night on either side of the fire, “which I
really think, Watson, that it would be worth your while to glance
over. These are the documents in the extraordinary case of the
_Gloria Scott_, and this is the message which struck Justice of
the Peace Trevor dead with horror when he read it.”

He had picked from a drawer a little tarnished cylinder, and,
undoing the tape, he handed me a short note scrawled upon a
half-sheet of slate-grey paper.

“The supply of game for London is going steadily up,” it ran.
“Head-keeper Hudson, we believe, has been now told to receive all
orders for fly-paper and for preservation of your hen-pheasant’s
life.”

As I glanced up from reading this enigmatical message, I saw
Holmes chuckling at the expression upon my face.

“You look a little bewildered,” said he.

“I cannot see how such a message as this could inspire horror. It
seems to me to be rather grotesque than otherwise.”

“Very likely. Yet the fact remains that the reader, who was a
fine, robust old man, was knocked clean down by it as if it had
been the butt end of a pistol.”

“You arouse my curiosity,” said I. “But why did you say just now
that there were very particular reasons why I should study this
case?”

“Because it was the first in which I was ever engaged.”

I had often endeavoured to elicit from my companion what had
first turned his mind in the direction of criminal research, but
had never caught him before in a communicative humour. Now he sat
forward in this armchair and spread out the documents upon his
knees. Then he lit his pipe and sat for some time smoking and
turning them over.

“You never heard me talk of Victor Trevor?” he asked. “He was the
only friend I made during the two years I was at college. I was
never a very sociable fellow, Watson, always rather fond of
moping in my rooms and working out my own little methods of
thought, so that I never mixed much with the men of my year. Bar
fencing and boxing I had few athletic tastes, and then my line of
study was quite distinct from that of the other fellows, so that
we had no points of contact at all. Trevor was the only man I
knew, and that only through the accident of his bull terrier
freezing on to my ankle one morning as I went down to chapel.

“It was a prosaic way of forming a friendship, but it was
effective. I was laid by the heels for ten days, but Trevor used
to come in to inquire after me. At first it was only a minute’s
chat, but soon his visits lengthened, and before the end of the
term we were close friends. He was a hearty, full-blooded fellow,
full of spirits and energy, the very opposite to me in most
respects, but we had some subjects in common, and it was a bond
of union when I found that he was as friendless as I. Finally, he
invited me down to his father’s place at Donnithorpe, in Norfolk,
and I accepted his hospitality for a month of the long vacation.

“Old Trevor was evidently a man of some wealth and consideration,
a J.P. and a landed proprietor. Donnithorpe is a little hamlet
just to the north of Langmere, in the country of the Broads. The
house was an old-fashioned, wide-spread, oak-beamed brick
building, with a fine lime-lined avenue leading up to it. There
was excellent wild-duck shooting in the fens, remarkably good
fishing, a small but select library, taken over, as I understood,
from a former occupant, and a tolerable cook, so that he would be
a fastidious man who could not put in a pleasant month there.

“Trevor senior was a widower, and my friend his only son.

“There had been a daughter, I heard, but she had died of
diphtheria while on a visit to Birmingham. The father interested
me extremely. He was a man of little culture, but with a
considerable amount of rude strength, both physically and
mentally. He knew hardly any books, but he had travelled far, had
seen much of the world. And had remembered all that he had
learned. In person he was a thick-set, burly man with a shock of
grizzled hair, a brown, weather-beaten face, and blue eyes which
were keen to the verge of fierceness. Yet he had a reputation for
kindness and charity on the country-side, and was noted for the
leniency of his sentences from the bench.

“One evening, shortly after my arrival, we were sitting over a
glass of port after dinner, when young Trevor began to talk about
those habits of observation and inference which I had already
formed into a system, although I had not yet appreciated the part
which they were to play in my life. The old man evidently thought
that his son was exaggerating in his description of one or two
trivial feats which I had performed.

“‘Come, now, Mr. Holmes,’ said he, laughing good-humoredly. ‘I’m
an excellent subject, if you can deduce anything from me.’

“‘I fear there is not very much,’ I answered; ‘I might suggest
that you have gone about in fear of some personal attack within
the last twelve months.’

“The laugh faded from his lips, and he stared at me in great
surprise.

“‘Well, that’s true enough,’ said he. ‘You know, Victor,’ turning
to his son, ‘when we broke up that poaching gang, they swore to
knife us, and Sir Edward Holly has actually been attacked. I’ve
always been on my guard since then, though I have no idea how you
know it.’

“‘You have a very handsome stick,’ I answered. ‘By the
inscription I observed that you had not had it more than a year.
But you have taken some pains to bore the head of it and pour
melted lead into the hole so as to make it a formidable weapon. I
argued that you would not take such precautions unless you had
some danger to fear.’

“‘Anything else?’ he asked, smiling.

“‘You have boxed a good deal in your youth.’

“‘Right again. How did you know it? Is my nose knocked a little
out of the straight?’

“‘No,’ said I. ‘It is your ears. They have the peculiar
flattening and thickening which marks the boxing man.’

“‘Anything else?’

“‘You have done a good deal of digging by your callosities.’

“‘Made all my money at the gold fields.’

“‘You have been in New Zealand.’

“‘Right again.’

“‘You have visited Japan.’

“‘Quite true.’

“‘And you have been most intimately associated with some one
whose initials were J. A., and whom you afterwards were eager to
entirely forget.’

“Mr. Trevor stood slowly up, fixed his large blue eyes upon me
with a strange wild stare, and then pitched forward, with his
face among the nutshells which strewed the cloth, in a dead
faint.

“You can imagine, Watson, how shocked both his son and I were.
His attack did not last long, however, for when we undid his
collar, and sprinkled the water from one of the finger-glasses
over his face, he gave a gasp or two and sat up.

“‘Ah, boys,’ said he, forcing a smile, ‘I hope I haven’t
frightened you. Strong as I look, there is a weak place in my
heart, and it does not take much to knock me over. I don’t know
how you manage this, Mr. Holmes, but it seems to me that all the
detectives of fact and of fancy would be children in your hands.
That’s your line of life, sir, and you may take the word of a man
who has seen something of the world.’

“And that recommendation, with the exaggerated estimate of my
ability with which he prefaced it, was, if you will believe me,
Watson, the very first thing which ever made me feel that a
profession might be made out of what had up to that time been the
merest hobby. At the moment, however, I was too much concerned at
the sudden illness of my host to think of anything else.

“‘I hope that I have said nothing to pain you?’ said I.

“‘Well, you certainly touched upon rather a tender point. Might I
ask how you know, and how much you know?’ He spoke now in a
half-jesting fashion, but a look of terror still lurked at the
back of his eyes.

“‘It is simplicity itself,’ said I. ‘When you bared your arm to
draw that fish into the boat I saw that J. A. had been tattooed
in the bend of the elbow. The letters were still legible, but it
was perfectly clear from their blurred appearance, and from the
staining of the skin round them, that efforts had been made to
obliterate them. It was obvious, then, that those initials had
once been very familiar to you, and that you had afterwards
wished to forget them.’

“What an eye you have!” he cried, with a sigh of relief. ‘It is
just as you say. But we won’t talk of it. Of all ghosts the
ghosts of our old lovers are the worst. Come into the
billiard-room and have a quiet cigar.’

“From that day, amid all his cordiality, there was always a touch
of suspicion in Mr. Trevor’s manner towards me. Even his son
remarked it. ‘You’ve given the governor such a turn,’ said he,
‘that he’ll never be sure again of what you know and what you
don’t know.’ He did not mean to show it, I am sure, but it was so
strongly in his mind that it peeped out at every action. At last
I became so convinced that I was causing him uneasiness that I
drew my visit to a close. On the very day, however, before I
left, an incident occurred which proved in the sequel to be of
importance.

“We were sitting out upon the lawn on garden chairs, the three of
us, basking in the sun and admiring the view across the Broads,
when a maid came out to say that there was a man at the door who
wanted to see Mr. Trevor.

“‘What is his name?’ asked my host.

“‘He would not give any.’

“‘What does he want, then?’

“‘He says that you know him, and that he only wants a moment’s
conversation.’

“‘Show him round here.’ An instant afterwards there appeared a
little wizened fellow with a cringing manner and a shambling
style of walking. He wore an open jacket, with a splotch of tar
on the sleeve, a red-and-black check shirt, dungaree trousers,
and heavy boots badly worn. His face was thin and brown and
crafty, with a perpetual smile upon it, which showed an irregular
line of yellow teeth, and his crinkled hands were half closed in
a way that is distinctive of sailors. As he came slouching across
the lawn I heard Mr. Trevor make a sort of hiccoughing noise in
his throat, and jumping out of his chair, he ran into the house.
He was back in a moment, and I smelt a strong reek of brandy as
he passed me.

“‘Well, my man,’ said he, ‘what can I do for you?’

“The sailor stood looking at him with puckered eyes, and with the
same loose-lipped smile upon his face.

“‘You don’t know me?’ he asked.

“‘Why, dear me, it is surely Hudson,’ said Mr. Trevor in a tone
of surprise.

“‘Hudson it is, sir,’ said the seaman. ‘Why, it’s thirty year and
more since I saw you last. Here you are in your house, and me
still picking my salt meat out of the harness cask.’

“‘Tut, you will find that I have not forgotten old times,’ cried
Mr. Trevor, and, walking towards the sailor, he said something in
a low voice. ‘Go into the kitchen,’ he continued out loud, ‘and
you will get food and drink. I have no doubt that I shall find
you a situation.’

“‘Thank you, sir,’ said the seaman, touching his forelock. ‘I’m
just off a two-yearer in an eight-knot tramp, short-handed at
that, and I wants a rest. I thought I’d get it either with Mr.
Beddoes or with you.’

“‘Ah!’ cried Trevor. ‘You know where Mr. Beddoes is?’

“‘Bless you, sir, I know where all my old friends are,’ said the
fellow with a sinister smile, and he slouched off after the maid
to the kitchen. Mr. Trevor mumbled something to us about having
been shipmate with the man when he was going back to the
diggings, and then, leaving us on the lawn, he went indoors. An
hour later, when we entered the house, we found him stretched
dead drunk upon the dining-room sofa. The whole incident left a
most ugly impression upon my mind, and I was not sorry next day
to leave Donnithorpe behind me, for I felt that my presence must
be a source of embarrassment to my friend.

“All this occurred during the first month of the long vacation. I
went up to my London rooms, where I spent seven weeks working out
a few experiments in organic chemistry. One day, however, when
the autumn was far advanced and the vacation drawing to a close,
I received a telegram from my friend imploring me to return to
Donnithorpe, and saying that he was in great need of my advice
and assistance. Of course I dropped everything and set out for
the North once more.

“He met me with the dog-cart at the station, and I saw at a
glance that the last two months had been very trying ones for
him. He had grown thin and careworn, and had lost the loud,
cheery manner for which he had been remarkable.

“‘The governor is dying,’ were the first words he said.

“‘Impossible!’ I cried. ‘What is the matter?’

“‘Apoplexy. Nervous shock, He’s been on the verge all day. I
doubt if we shall find him alive.’

“I was, as you may think, Watson, horrified at this unexpected
news.

“‘What has caused it?’ I asked.

“‘Ah, that is the point. Jump in and we can talk it over while we
drive. You remember that fellow who came upon the evening before
you left us?’

“‘Perfectly.’

“‘Do you know who it was that we let into the house that day?’

“‘I have no idea.’

“‘It was the devil, Holmes,’ he cried.

“I stared at him in astonishment.

“‘Yes, it was the devil himself. We have not had a peaceful hour
since—not one. The governor has never held up his head from that
evening, and now the life has been crushed out of him and his
heart broken, all through this accursed Hudson.’

“‘What power had he, then?’

“‘Ah, that is what I would give so much to know. The kindly,
charitable, good old governor—how could he have fallen into the
clutches of such a ruffian! But I am so glad that you have come,
Holmes. I trust very much to your judgment and discretion, and I
know that you will advise me for the best.’

“We were dashing along the smooth white country road, with the
long stretch of the Broads in front of us glimmering in the red
light of the setting sun. From a grove upon our left I could
already see the high chimneys and the flag-staff which marked the
squire’s dwelling.

“‘My father made the fellow gardener,’ said my companion, ‘and
then, as that did not satisfy him, he was promoted to be butler.
The house seemed to be at his mercy, and he wandered about and
did what he chose in it. The maids complained of his drunken
habits and his vile language. The dad raised their wages all
round to recompense them for the annoyance. The fellow would take
the boat and my father’s best gun and treat himself to little
shooting trips. And all this with such a sneering, leering,
insolent face that I would have knocked him down twenty times
over if he had been a man of my own age. I tell you, Holmes, I
have had to keep a tight hold upon myself all this time; and now
I am asking myself whether, if I had let myself go a little more,
I might not have been a wiser man.

“‘Well, matters went from bad to worse with us, and this animal
Hudson became more and more intrusive, until at last, on making
some insolent reply to my father in my presence one day, I took
him by the shoulders and turned him out of the room. He slunk
away with a livid face and two venomous eyes which uttered more
threats than his tongue could do. I don’t know what passed
between the poor dad and him after that, but the dad came to me
next day and asked me whether I would mind apologising to Hudson.
I refused, as you can imagine, and asked my father how he could
allow such a wretch to take such liberties with himself and his
household.

“‘“Ah, my boy,” said he, “it is all very well to talk, but you
don’t know how I am placed. But you shall know, Victor. I’ll see
that you shall know, come what may. You wouldn’t believe harm of
your poor old father, would you, lad?” He was very much moved,
and shut himself up in the study all day, where I could see
through the window that he was writing busily.

“‘That evening there came what seemed to me to be a grand
release, for Hudson told us that he was going to leave us. He
walked into the dining-room as we sat after dinner, and announced
his intention in the thick voice of a half-drunken man.

“‘“I’ve had enough of Norfolk,” said he. “I’ll run down to Mr.
Beddoes in Hampshire. He’ll be as glad to see me as you were, I
daresay.”

“‘“You’re not going away in an unkind spirit, Hudson, I hope,”
said my father, with a tameness which made my blood boil.

“‘“I’ve not had my ’pology,” said he sulkily, glancing in my
direction.