The Red-Headed League

37 min

I had called upon my friend, Mr. Sherlock Holmes, one day in the autumn of last year and found him in deep conversation with a very stout, florid-faced, elderly gentleman with fiery red hair. With an apology for my intrusion, I was about to withdraw when Holmes pulled me abruptly into the room and closed the door behind me.

One day last autumn, I visited my friend, Mr. Sherlock Holmes. I found him deep in conversation with a very heavy, red-faced elderly gentleman with fiery red hair. I apologized for interrupting and was about to leave. But Holmes pulled me into the room and closed the door behind me.

“You could not possibly have come at a better time, my dear Watson,” he said cordially.

“You couldn't have come at a better time, my dear Watson,” he said warmly.

“I was afraid that you were engaged.”

“I was afraid you were busy.”

“So I am. Very much so.”

“Then I can wait in the next room.”

“Not at all. This gentleman, Mr. Wilson, has been my partner and helper in many of my most successful cases, and I have no doubt that he will be of the utmost use to me in yours also.”

“Not at all. Mr. Wilson, this gentleman has been my partner and helper in many of my most successful cases. I have no doubt that he will be extremely helpful in your case too.”

The stout gentleman half rose from his chair and gave a bob of greeting, with a quick little questioning glance from his small fat-encircled eyes.

The stout gentleman half rose from his chair and nodded in greeting. His small eyes, surrounded by fat, gave a quick, questioning glance.

“Try the settee,” said Holmes, relapsing into his armchair and putting his fingertips together, as was his custom when in judicial moods. “I know, my dear Watson, that you share my love of all that is bizarre and outside the conventions and humdrum routine of everyday life. You have shown your relish for it by the enthusiasm which has prompted you to chronicle, and, if you will excuse my saying so, somewhat to embellish so many of my own little adventures.”

“Try the sofa,” said Holmes, settling back into his armchair and putting his fingertips together, as he usually did when weighing a matter. “I know, my dear Watson, that you share my love of everything strange and outside the conventions and dull routines of everyday life. Your enthusiasm for recording so many of my little adventures has shown how much you enjoy such things. And, if you’ll excuse my saying so, you have embellished them somewhat.”

“Your cases have indeed been of the greatest interest to me,” I observed.

“Your cases have been extremely interesting to me,” I said.

“You will remember that I remarked the other day, just before we went into the very simple problem presented by Miss Mary Sutherland, that for strange effects and extraordinary combinations we must go to life itself, which is always far more daring than any effort of the imagination.”

“You may remember what I said the other day, just before we discussed Miss Mary Sutherland's very simple case. I said that we must look to life itself for strange effects and extraordinary combinations. Life is always far more daring than anything we can imagine.”

“A proposition which I took the liberty of doubting.”

“A claim I dared to doubt.”

“You did, Doctor, but none the less you must come round to my view, for otherwise I shall keep on piling fact upon fact on you until your reason breaks down under them and acknowledges me to be right. Now, Mr. Jabez Wilson here has been good enough to call upon me this morning, and to begin a narrative which promises to be one of the most singular which I have listened to for some time. You have heard me remark that the strangest and most unique things are very often connected not with the larger but with the smaller crimes, and occasionally, indeed, where there is room for doubt whether any positive crime has been committed. As far as I have heard, it is impossible for me to say whether the present case is an instance of crime or not, but the course of events is certainly among the most singular that I have ever listened to. Perhaps, Mr. Wilson, you would have the great kindness to recommence your narrative. I ask you not merely because my friend Dr. Watson has not heard the opening part but also because the peculiar nature of the story makes me anxious to have every possible detail from your lips. As a rule, when I have heard some slight indication of the course of events, I am able to guide myself by the thousands of other similar cases which occur to my memory. In the present instance I am forced to admit that the facts are, to the best of my belief, unique.”

“You did, Doctor, but you must still come around to my view. Otherwise, I shall keep piling fact upon fact until your reason gives way under the weight and acknowledges that I am right. Mr. Jabez Wilson here was kind enough to call on me this morning. He began a story that promises to be one of the most unusual I have heard in some time. You have heard me say that the strangest and most unusual things are often connected with smaller crimes rather than larger ones. Sometimes, indeed, there is even doubt whether any crime has been committed at all. From what I have heard so far, I cannot say whether this case involves a crime. But the course of events is certainly among the most unusual I have ever heard. Perhaps, Mr. Wilson, you would be kind enough to begin your story again. I ask not only because my friend Dr. Watson has missed the beginning. The unusual nature of your story also makes me eager to hear every possible detail from you. As a rule, once I have a slight indication of what happened, I can draw on thousands of similar cases I remember. In this case, I must admit that, as far as I know, the facts are unique.”

The portly client puffed out his chest with an appearance of some little pride and pulled a dirty and wrinkled newspaper from the inside pocket of his greatcoat. As he glanced down the advertisement column, with his head thrust forward and the paper flattened out upon his knee, I took a good look at the man and endeavoured, after the fashion of my companion, to read the indications which might be presented by his dress or appearance.

The stout client puffed out his chest with a hint of pride. He pulled a dirty, wrinkled newspaper from the inside pocket of his overcoat. He leaned forward and spread the paper on his knee as he scanned the advertisements. Meanwhile, I took a good look at him. Like my companion, I tried to read the clues in his clothes and appearance.

I did not gain very much, however, by my inspection. Our visitor bore every mark of being an average commonplace British tradesman, obese, pompous, and slow. He wore rather baggy grey shepherd’s check trousers, a not over-clean black frock-coat, unbuttoned in the front, and a drab waistcoat with a heavy brassy Albert chain, and a square pierced bit of metal dangling down as an ornament. A frayed top-hat and a faded brown overcoat with a wrinkled velvet collar lay upon a chair beside him. Altogether, look as I would, there was nothing remarkable about the man save his blazing red head, and the expression of extreme chagrin and discontent upon his features.

However, my inspection did not tell me much. Our visitor looked like an average British tradesman, overweight, pompous, and slow. He wore rather baggy gray trousers with a shepherd’s check pattern. His black frock coat was not very clean and hung open at the front. He wore a dull-colored waistcoat with a heavy, brass-colored watch chain. A square piece of metal with holes in it hung from the chain as an ornament. A worn top hat and a faded brown overcoat lay on a chair beside him. The coat had a wrinkled velvet collar. No matter how closely I looked, nothing about the man stood out except his blazing red hair. He also wore an expression of extreme frustration and discontent.

Sherlock Holmes’ quick eye took in my occupation, and he shook his head with a smile as he noticed my questioning glances. “Beyond the obvious facts that he has at some time done manual labour, that he takes snuff, that he is a Freemason, that he has been in China, and that he has done a considerable amount of writing lately, I can deduce nothing else.”

Sherlock Holmes quickly noticed what I was doing. He saw my questioning glances and shook his head with a smile. “I can only deduce the obvious facts. He has done manual labor at some point, takes snuff, and is a Freemason. He has been to China and has done a considerable amount of writing lately. Beyond that, I can deduce nothing else.”

Mr. Jabez Wilson started up in his chair, with his forefinger upon the paper, but his eyes upon my companion.

Mr. Jabez Wilson sat up suddenly in his chair. His finger was on the paper, but he was looking at my companion.

“How, in the name of good-fortune, did you know all that, Mr. Holmes?” he asked. “How did you know, for example, that I did manual labour. It’s as true as gospel, for I began as a ship’s carpenter.”

“How on earth did you know all that, Mr. Holmes?” he asked. “How did you know, for example, that I did manual labor? It’s absolutely true, because I started out as a ship’s carpenter.”

“Your hands, my dear sir. Your right hand is quite a size larger than your left. You have worked with it, and the muscles are more developed.”

“Your hands, my dear sir. Your right hand is noticeably larger than your left. You have worked with it, so its muscles are more developed.”

“Well, the snuff, then, and the Freemasonry?”

“Well, what about the snuff and the Freemasonry?”

“I won’t insult your intelligence by telling you how I read that, especially as, rather against the strict rules of your order, you use an arc-and-compass breastpin.”

“I won’t insult your intelligence by explaining how I figured that out. Especially since you wear an arc-and-compass pin, which is rather against the strict rules of your order.”

“Ah, of course, I forgot that. But the writing?”

“Ah, of course, I forgot that. But what about the writing?”

“What else can be indicated by that right cuff so very shiny for five inches, and the left one with the smooth patch near the elbow where you rest it upon the desk?”

“What else could explain why your right cuff is so shiny for five inches? Or why there’s a smooth patch near your left elbow, where you rest it on the desk?”

“Well, but China?”

“Well, but what about China?”

“The fish that you have tattooed immediately above your right wrist could only have been done in China. I have made a small study of tattoo marks and have even contributed to the literature of the subject. That trick of staining the fishes’ scales of a delicate pink is quite peculiar to China. When, in addition, I see a Chinese coin hanging from your watch-chain, the matter becomes even more simple.”

“The fish tattoo just above your right wrist could only have been done in China. I have studied tattoo marks a little and have even written about them. The practice of coloring fish scales a delicate pink is unique to China. And when I see a Chinese coin hanging from your watch chain, the matter becomes even simpler.”

Mr. Jabez Wilson laughed heavily. “Well, I never!” said he. “I thought at first that you had done something clever, but I see that there was nothing in it after all.”

Mr. Jabez Wilson laughed heartily. “Well, I never!” he said. “At first I thought you had done something clever, but I see there was nothing to it after all.”

“I begin to think, Watson,” said Holmes, “that I make a mistake in explaining. ‘Omne ignotum pro magnifico,’ you know, and my poor little reputation, such as it is, will suffer shipwreck if I am so candid. Can you not find the advertisement, Mr. Wilson?”

“I’m beginning to think, Watson,” said Holmes, “that I make a mistake by explaining. ‘Everything unknown is taken for magnificent,’ you know. If I’m so open, my poor little reputation, such as it is, will be ruined. Can’t you find the advertisement, Mr. Wilson?”

“Yes, I have got it now,” he answered with his thick red finger planted halfway down the column. “Here it is. This is what began it all. You just read it for yourself, sir.”

“Yes, I’ve found it now,” he answered, pointing halfway down the column with his thick red finger. “Here it is. This is what started it all. Just read it for yourself, sir.”

I took the paper from him and read as follows:

I took the paper from him and read:

“TO THE RED-HEADED LEAGUE: On account of the bequest of the late Ezekiah Hopkins, of Lebanon, Pennsylvania, U.S.A., there is now another vacancy open which entitles a member of the League to a salary of £ 4 a week for purely nominal services. All red-headed men who are sound in body and mind and above the age of twenty-one years, are eligible. Apply in person on Monday, at eleven o’clock, to Duncan Ross, at the offices of the League, 7 Pope’s Court, Fleet Street.”

“TO THE RED-HEADED LEAGUE: Thanks to a bequest from the late Ezekiah Hopkins of Lebanon, Pennsylvania, U.S.A., another position is now open. The position pays a League member £4 a week for very little work. All red-headed men over twenty-one who are healthy in body and mind are eligible. Apply in person to Duncan Ross on Monday at eleven o’clock, at the League’s offices, 7 Pope’s Court, Fleet Street.”

“What on earth does this mean?” I ejaculated after I had twice read over the extraordinary announcement.

“What on earth does this mean?” I exclaimed after reading the extraordinary announcement twice.

Holmes chuckled and wriggled in his chair, as was his habit when in high spirits. “It is a little off the beaten track, isn’t it?” said he. “And now, Mr. Wilson, off you go at scratch and tell us all about yourself, your household, and the effect which this advertisement had upon your fortunes. You will first make a note, Doctor, of the paper and the date.”

Holmes chuckled and squirmed in his chair, as he often did when he was in high spirits. “It’s a little unusual, isn’t it?” he said. “Now, Mr. Wilson, start at the beginning. Tell us all about yourself, your household, and how this advertisement affected your fortunes. First, Doctor, make a note of the newspaper and the date.”

“It is The Morning Chronicle of April 27, 1890. Just two months ago.”

“It is The Morning Chronicle from April 27, 1890. Just two months ago.”

“Very good. Now, Mr. Wilson?”

“All right. Now, Mr. Wilson?”

“Well, it is just as I have been telling you, Mr. Sherlock Holmes,” said Jabez Wilson, mopping his forehead; “I have a small pawnbroker’s business at Coburg Square, near the City. It’s not a very large affair, and of late years it has not done more than just give me a living. I used to be able to keep two assistants, but now I only keep one; and I would have a job to pay him but that he is willing to come for half wages so as to learn the business.”

“Well, it’s just as I’ve been telling you, Mr. Sherlock Holmes,” said Jabez Wilson, wiping his forehead. “I have a small pawnbroker’s business in Coburg Square, near the City. It’s not a very large business, and in recent years it has barely provided me with a living. I used to be able to employ two assistants, but now I have only one. Even then, I would struggle to pay him if he weren’t willing to work for half wages to learn the business.”

“What is the name of this obliging youth?” asked Sherlock Holmes.

“What is the name of this helpful young man?” asked Sherlock Holmes.

“His name is Vincent Spaulding, and he’s not such a youth, either. It’s hard to say his age. I should not wish a smarter assistant, Mr. Holmes; and I know very well that he could better himself and earn twice what I am able to give him. But, after all, if he is satisfied, why should I put ideas in his head?”

“His name is Vincent Spaulding, and he’s not that young, either. It’s hard to say how old he is. I couldn’t ask for a smarter assistant, Mr. Holmes. And I know very well he could find a better job and earn twice what I can pay him. But if he’s satisfied, why should I put ideas in his head?”

“Why, indeed? You seem most fortunate in having an employé who comes under the full market price. It is not a common experience among employers in this age. I don’t know that your assistant is not as remarkable as your advertisement.”

“Why indeed? You seem very lucky to have an employee who works for less than the usual wage. Employers don’t often find that these days. I’m not sure your assistant is any less remarkable than your advertisement.”

“Oh, he has his faults, too,” said Mr. Wilson. “Never was such a fellow for photography. Snapping away with a camera when he ought to be improving his mind, and then diving down into the cellar like a rabbit into its hole to develop his pictures. That is his main fault, but on the whole he’s a good worker. There’s no vice in him.”

“Oh, he has his faults, too,” said Mr. Wilson. “I’ve never known anyone so obsessed with photography. He takes pictures when he should be learning something. Then he dives into the cellar like a rabbit into its hole to develop them. That’s his main fault, but on the whole he’s a good worker. He has no bad habits.”

“He is still with you, I presume?”

“He’s still with you, I assume?”

“Yes, sir. He and a girl of fourteen, who does a bit of simple cooking and keeps the place clean—that’s all I have in the house, for I am a widower and never had any family. We live very quietly, sir, the three of us; and we keep a roof over our heads and pay our debts, if we do nothing more.

“Yes, sir. He and a fourteen-year-old girl are all I have in the house. She does some simple cooking and keeps the place clean. I’m a widower and never had any children. The three of us live very quietly, sir. We keep a roof over our heads and pay our debts, even if we do nothing more.

“The first thing that put us out was that advertisement. Spaulding, he came down into the office just this day eight weeks, with this very paper in his hand, and he says:

“The first thing that disrupted things for us was that advertisement. Exactly eight weeks ago today, Spaulding came down to the office with this very paper in his hand, and he says:

“‘I wish to the Lord, Mr. Wilson, that I was a red-headed man.’

“‘I wish to God, Mr. Wilson, that I had red hair.’

“‘Why that?’ I asks.

“‘Why is that?’ I asks.

“‘Why,’ says he, ‘here’s another vacancy on the League of the Red-headed Men. It’s worth quite a little fortune to any man who gets it, and I understand that there are more vacancies than there are men, so that the trustees are at their wits’ end what to do with the money. If my hair would only change colour, here’s a nice little crib all ready for me to step into.’

“‘Look,’ he says, ‘there’s another opening in the League of the Red-headed Men. It’s worth a small fortune to whoever gets it. And I hear there are more openings than men to fill them. So the trustees are at a loss about what to do with the money. If only my hair would change color, there’s a nice little job ready for me to step into.’

“‘Why, what is it, then?’ I asked. You see, Mr. Holmes, I am a very stay-at-home man, and as my business came to me instead of my having to go to it, I was often weeks on end without putting my foot over the door-mat. In that way I didn’t know much of what was going on outside, and I was always glad of a bit of news.

“‘Well, what is it, then?’ I asked. You see, Mr. Holmes, I’m a man who likes to stay at home. My customers came to me, so I didn’t have to go out for business. I often went weeks without stepping outside my door. Because of that, I didn’t know much about what was happening outside, and I was always glad to hear some news.

“‘Have you never heard of the League of the Red-headed Men?’ he asked with his eyes open.

“‘Haven't you ever heard of the League of the Red-headed Men?’ he asked, his eyes wide open.

“‘Never.’

“‘Why, I wonder at that, for you are eligible yourself for one of the vacancies.’

“‘Well, that surprises me, because you are eligible for one of the vacancies yourself.’

“‘And what are they worth?’ I asked.

“‘Oh, merely a couple of hundred a year, but the work is slight, and it need not interfere very much with one’s other occupations.’

“‘Oh, just a couple of hundred a year, but the work is light. It shouldn't interfere much with your other activities.’

“Well, you can easily think that that made me prick up my ears, for the business has not been over good for some years, and an extra couple of hundred would have been very handy.

“Well, you can imagine that got my attention. Business hadn't been very good for some years, and an extra couple of hundred would have been very handy.

“‘Tell me all about it,’ said I.

“‘Tell me all about it,’ I said.

“‘Well,’ said he, showing me the advertisement, ‘you can see for yourself that the League has a vacancy, and there is the address where you should apply for particulars. As far as I can make out, the League was founded by an American millionaire, Ezekiah Hopkins, who was very peculiar in his ways. He was himself red-headed, and he had a great sympathy for all red-headed men; so, when he died, it was found that he had left his enormous fortune in the hands of trustees, with instructions to apply the interest to the providing of easy berths to men whose hair is of that colour. From all I hear it is splendid pay and very little to do.’

“‘Well,’ he said, showing me the advertisement, ‘you can see for yourself that the League has an opening. The address is there too, where you can apply for details. As far as I can tell, the League was founded by an American millionaire, Ezekiah Hopkins, who had some very peculiar habits. He had red hair himself and felt great sympathy for all red-haired men. So when he died, it turned out that he had left his enormous fortune to trustees. He had instructed them to use the interest to provide easy jobs for men with red hair. From all I hear, the pay is splendid and there’s very little to do.’

“‘But,’ said I, ‘there would be millions of red-headed men who would apply.’

“‘But,’ I said, ‘millions of red-headed men would apply.’

“‘Not so many as you might think,’ he answered. ‘You see it is really confined to Londoners, and to grown men. This American had started from London when he was young, and he wanted to do the old town a good turn. Then, again, I have heard it is no use your applying if your hair is light red, or dark red, or anything but real bright, blazing, fiery red. Now, if you cared to apply, Mr. Wilson, you would just walk in; but perhaps it would hardly be worth your while to put yourself out of the way for the sake of a few hundred pounds.’

“‘Not as many as you might think,’ he answered. ‘You see, it is only open to Londoners who are grown men. This American had left London when he was young, and he wanted to do the old town a favor. Also, I have heard there is no point in applying if your hair is light red or dark red. It has to be a truly bright, blazing, fiery red. Now, if you wanted to apply, Mr. Wilson, you would get in easily. But perhaps a few hundred pounds would hardly be worth the trouble.’

“Now, it is a fact, gentlemen, as you may see for yourselves, that my hair is of a very full and rich tint, so that it seemed to me that if there was to be any competition in the matter I stood as good a chance as any man that I had ever met. Vincent Spaulding seemed to know so much about it that I thought he might prove useful, so I just ordered him to put up the shutters for the day and to come right away with me. He was very willing to have a holiday, so we shut the business up and started off for the address that was given us in the advertisement.

“Now, gentlemen, as you can see for yourselves, my hair is a very rich, full color. So I thought that if there was a competition, I had as good a chance as any man I’d ever met. Vincent Spaulding seemed to know so much about it that I thought he might be useful. So I ordered him to put up the shutters for the day and come with me at once. He was quite willing to take a holiday, so we closed the shop and set off for the address in the advertisement.

“I never hope to see such a sight as that again, Mr. Holmes. From north, south, east, and west every man who had a shade of red in his hair had tramped into the city to answer the advertisement. Fleet Street was choked with red-headed folk, and Pope’s Court looked like a coster’s orange barrow. I should not have thought there were so many in the whole country as were brought together by that single advertisement. Every shade of colour they were—straw, lemon, orange, brick, Irish-setter, liver, clay; but, as Spaulding said, there were not many who had the real vivid flame-coloured tint. When I saw how many were waiting, I would have given it up in despair; but Spaulding would not hear of it. How he did it I could not imagine, but he pushed and pulled and butted until he got me through the crowd, and right up to the steps which led to the office. There was a double stream upon the stair, some going up in hope, and some coming back dejected; but we wedged in as well as we could and soon found ourselves in the office.”

“I never want to see a sight like that again, Mr. Holmes. Men with any shade of red hair had walked into the city from every direction to answer the advertisement. Fleet Street was packed with redheaded people, and Pope’s Court looked like a street vendor’s orange cart. I would never have thought there were so many redheads in the whole country. Yet that single advertisement had brought them all together. Their hair came in every shade: straw, lemon, orange, brick, Irish setter, liver, and clay. But as Spaulding said, not many had the true, vivid flame color. When I saw how many were waiting, I would have given up in despair. But Spaulding would not hear of it. I could not imagine how he did it. He pushed, pulled, and shoved until he got me through the crowd. Then he got me right up to the steps leading to the office. Two streams of people filled the stairs. Some were going up full of hope, while others were coming back downcast. But we squeezed in as best we could and soon found ourselves in the office.”

“Your experience has been a most entertaining one,” remarked Holmes as his client paused and refreshed his memory with a huge pinch of snuff. “Pray continue your very interesting statement.”

“Your experience has been very entertaining,” Holmes said as his client paused and took a large pinch of snuff to refresh his memory. “Please continue your very interesting account.”

“There was nothing in the office but a couple of wooden chairs and a deal table, behind which sat a small man with a head that was even redder than mine. He said a few words to each candidate as he came up, and then he always managed to find some fault in them which would disqualify them. Getting a vacancy did not seem to be such a very easy matter, after all. However, when our turn came the little man was much more favourable to me than to any of the others, and he closed the door as we entered, so that he might have a private word with us.

“There was nothing in the office but two wooden chairs and a plain wooden table. Behind the table sat a small man with hair even redder than mine. He said a few words to each candidate who came up. Then he always managed to find some fault that disqualified them. Getting a vacancy did not seem so easy after all. However, when our turn came, the little man was much more favorable to me than to any of the others. He closed the door as we entered, so he could speak to us privately.

“‘This is Mr. Jabez Wilson,’ said my assistant, ‘and he is willing to fill a vacancy in the League.’

“‘This is Mr. Jabez Wilson,’ said my assistant, ‘and he is willing to fill an opening in the League.’

“‘And he is admirably suited for it,’ the other answered. ‘He has every requirement. I cannot recall when I have seen anything so fine.’ He took a step backward, cocked his head on one side, and gazed at my hair until I felt quite bashful. Then suddenly he plunged forward, wrung my hand, and congratulated me warmly on my success.

“‘And he is perfectly suited for it,’ the other replied. ‘He has everything required. I cannot remember ever seeing anything so fine.’ He stepped back, tilted his head, and stared at my hair until I felt quite embarrassed. Then he suddenly rushed forward, shook my hand, and warmly congratulated me on my success.

“‘It would be injustice to hesitate,’ said he. ‘You will, however, I am sure, excuse me for taking an obvious precaution.’ With that he seized my hair in both his hands, and tugged until I yelled with the pain. ‘There is water in your eyes,’ said he as he released me. ‘I perceive that all is as it should be. But we have to be careful, for we have twice been deceived by wigs and once by paint. I could tell you tales of cobbler’s wax which would disgust you with human nature.’ He stepped over to the window and shouted through it at the top of his voice that the vacancy was filled. A groan of disappointment came up from below, and the folk all trooped away in different directions until there was not a red-head to be seen except my own and that of the manager.

“‘It would be unfair to hesitate,’ he said. ‘But I’m sure you’ll excuse me for taking an obvious precaution.’ He grabbed my hair with both hands and pulled until I yelled in pain. ‘There are tears in your eyes,’ he said as he let go. ‘I can see that everything is as it should be. But we have to be careful. We’ve been fooled twice by wigs and once by paint. I could tell you stories about cobbler’s wax that would disgust you with human nature.’ He stepped over to the window and shouted at the top of his voice that the position was filled. A groan of disappointment rose from below. The people all walked away in different directions until the only redheads left were the manager and me.

“‘My name,’ said he, ‘is Mr. Duncan Ross, and I am myself one of the pensioners upon the fund left by our noble benefactor. Are you a married man, Mr. Wilson? Have you a family?’

“‘My name is Mr. Duncan Ross,’ he said. ‘I am also one of those receiving money from the fund left by our noble benefactor. Are you married, Mr. Wilson? Do you have a family?’

“I answered that I had not.

“I said I had not.

“His face fell immediately.

“His face immediately showed disappointment.

“‘Dear me!’ he said gravely, ‘that is very serious indeed! I am sorry to hear you say that. The fund was, of course, for the propagation and spread of the red-heads as well as for their maintenance. It is exceedingly unfortunate that you should be a bachelor.’

“‘Oh dear!’ he said seriously, ‘that is very serious indeed! I am sorry to hear you say that. Of course, the fund was meant to help red-headed people have children and increase their numbers, as well as support them. It is very unfortunate that you are unmarried.’

“My face lengthened at this, Mr. Holmes, for I thought that I was not to have the vacancy after all; but after thinking it over for a few minutes he said that it would be all right.

“My face fell at this, Mr. Holmes, because I thought I would not get the job after all. But after thinking it over for a few minutes, he said it would be all right.

“‘In the case of another,’ said he, ‘the objection might be fatal, but we must stretch a point in favour of a man with such a head of hair as yours. When shall you be able to enter upon your new duties?’

“‘For someone else,’ he said, ‘that objection might be enough to disqualify them. But we must make an exception for a man with hair like yours. When can you start your new duties?’

“‘Well, it is a little awkward, for I have a business already,’ said I.

“‘Well, that's a little awkward, because I already have a business,’ I said.

“‘Oh, never mind about that, Mr. Wilson!’ said Vincent Spaulding. ‘I should be able to look after that for you.’

“‘Oh, never mind about that, Mr. Wilson!’ said Vincent Spaulding. ‘I should be able to take care of that for you.’”

“‘What would be the hours?’ I asked.

“‘What would the hours be?’ I asked.

“‘Ten to two.’

“Now a pawnbroker’s business is mostly done of an evening, Mr. Holmes, especially Thursday and Friday evening, which is just before pay-day; so it would suit me very well to earn a little in the mornings. Besides, I knew that my assistant was a good man, and that he would see to anything that turned up.

“Most of a pawnbroker’s business is done in the evenings, Mr. Holmes. That’s especially true on Thursday and Friday evenings, just before payday. So it would suit me very well to earn a little in the mornings. Besides, I knew my assistant was a good man. He would take care of anything that came up.

“‘That would suit me very well,’ said I. ‘And the pay?’

“‘That would suit me very well,’ I said. ‘And the pay?’

“‘Is £ 4 a week.’

“‘Is £4 a week.’

“‘And the work?’

“‘Is purely nominal.’

“‘Is only nominal.’

“‘What do you call purely nominal?’

“‘What do you mean by a purely nominal amount?’

“‘Well, you have to be in the office, or at least in the building, the whole time. If you leave, you forfeit your whole position forever. The will is very clear upon that point. You don’t comply with the conditions if you budge from the office during that time.’

“‘Well, you have to stay in the office, or at least in the building, the whole time. If you leave, you lose your position forever. The will is very clear about that. You don’t meet the conditions if you leave the office during that time.’

“‘It’s only four hours a day, and I should not think of leaving,’ said I.

“‘It’s only four hours a day, and I wouldn’t dream of leaving,’ I said.

“‘No excuse will avail,’ said Mr. Duncan Ross; ‘neither sickness nor business nor anything else. There you must stay, or you lose your billet.’

“‘No excuse will do,’ said Mr. Duncan Ross. ‘Not sickness, business, or anything else. You must stay there, or you will lose your job.’

“‘And the work?’

“‘Is to copy out the Encyclopædia Britannica. There is the first volume of it in that press. You must find your own ink, pens, and blotting-paper, but we provide this table and chair. Will you be ready to-morrow?’

“‘Is to copy out the Encyclopædia Britannica. The first volume is in that cabinet. You must supply your own ink, pens, and blotting paper, but we provide this table and chair. Will you be ready tomorrow?’

“‘Certainly,’ I answered.

“‘Of course,’ I answered.

“‘Then, good-bye, Mr. Jabez Wilson, and let me congratulate you once more on the important position which you have been fortunate enough to gain.’ He bowed me out of the room and I went home with my assistant, hardly knowing what to say or do, I was so pleased at my own good fortune.

“‘Then goodbye, Mr. Jabez Wilson. Let me congratulate you once more on the important position you were lucky enough to get.’ He bowed as I left the room, and I went home with my assistant. I was so pleased with my good fortune that I hardly knew what to say or do.

“Well, I thought over the matter all day, and by evening I was in low spirits again; for I had quite persuaded myself that the whole affair must be some great hoax or fraud, though what its object might be I could not imagine. It seemed altogether past belief that anyone could make such a will, or that they would pay such a sum for doing anything so simple as copying out the Encyclopædia Britannica. Vincent Spaulding did what he could to cheer me up, but by bedtime I had reasoned myself out of the whole thing. However, in the morning I determined to have a look at it anyhow, so I bought a penny bottle of ink, and with a quill-pen, and seven sheets of foolscap paper, I started off for Pope’s Court.

“Well, I thought about the matter all day, and by evening I was feeling low again. I had convinced myself that the whole affair must be a big hoax or fraud. Though I could not imagine what its purpose might be. It seemed impossible that anyone could make such a will. It also seemed impossible that anyone would pay so much for something as simple as copying out the Encyclopædia Britannica. Vincent Spaulding did what he could to cheer me up. But by bedtime I had convinced myself that the whole thing was a hoax. In the morning, though, I decided to look into it anyway. So I bought a penny bottle of ink and set off for Pope’s Court with a quill pen and seven sheets of foolscap paper.

“Well, to my surprise and delight, everything was as right as possible. The table was set out ready for me, and Mr. Duncan Ross was there to see that I got fairly to work. He started me off upon the letter A, and then he left me; but he would drop in from time to time to see that all was right with me. At two o’clock he bade me good-day, complimented me upon the amount that I had written, and locked the door of the office after me.

“Well, to my surprise and delight, everything was just as it should be. The table was ready for me, and Mr. Duncan Ross was there to make sure I got started properly. He started me on the letter A, then left me. But he dropped in from time to time to make sure everything was all right. At two o’clock he said goodbye, praised me for how much I had written, and locked the office door after I left.

“This went on day after day, Mr. Holmes, and on Saturday the manager came in and planked down four golden sovereigns for my week’s work. It was the same next week, and the same the week after. Every morning I was there at ten, and every afternoon I left at two. By degrees Mr. Duncan Ross took to coming in only once of a morning, and then, after a time, he did not come in at all. Still, of course, I never dared to leave the room for an instant, for I was not sure when he might come, and the billet was such a good one, and suited me so well, that I would not risk the loss of it.

“This went on day after day, Mr. Holmes. On Saturday, the manager came in and handed me four gold sovereigns for my week’s work. The same thing happened the next week, and the week after that. Every morning I arrived at ten, and every afternoon I left at two. Gradually, Mr. Duncan Ross began coming in only once each morning. After a while, he stopped coming in altogether. Still, of course, I never dared leave the room for a moment. I was not sure when he might come. The job was so good and suited me so well that I would not risk losing it.

“Eight weeks passed away like this, and I had written about Abbots and Archery and Armour and Architecture and Attica, and hoped with diligence that I might get on to the B’s before very long. It cost me something in foolscap, and I had pretty nearly filled a shelf with my writings. And then suddenly the whole business came to an end.”

“Eight weeks passed this way. I had written about Abbots, Archery, Armour, Architecture, and Attica. I hoped that if I worked hard, I would reach the B’s before long. I spent some money on paper and had nearly filled a shelf with my writing. Then suddenly the whole business came to an end.”

“To an end?”

“Yes, sir. And no later than this morning. I went to my work as usual at ten o’clock, but the door was shut and locked, with a little square of cardboard hammered on to the middle of the panel with a tack. Here it is, and you can read for yourself.”

“Yes, sir. It was only this morning. I went to work as usual at ten o’clock, but the door was shut and locked. A small square of cardboard was tacked to the middle of the door panel. Here it is. You can read it for yourself.”

He held up a piece of white cardboard about the size of a sheet of note-paper. It read in this fashion:

He held up a piece of white cardboard about the size of a sheet of writing paper. It read:

“THE RED-HEADED LEAGUE IS DISSOLVED. October 9, 1890.”

“THE RED-HEADED LEAGUE HAS BEEN DISBANDED. October 9, 1890.”

Sherlock Holmes and I surveyed this curt announcement and the rueful face behind it, until the comical side of the affair so completely overtopped every other consideration that we both burst out into a roar of laughter.

Sherlock Holmes and I looked at the brief announcement and the unhappy face behind it. Soon, the funny side of the affair outweighed everything else, and we both burst out laughing.

“I cannot see that there is anything very funny,” cried our client, flushing up to the roots of his flaming head. “If you can do nothing better than laugh at me, I can go elsewhere.”

“I don't see anything very funny,” cried our client, blushing to the roots of his fiery red hair. “If all you can do is laugh at me, I can go somewhere else.”

“No, no,” cried Holmes, shoving him back into the chair from which he had half risen. “I really wouldn’t miss your case for the world. It is most refreshingly unusual. But there is, if you will excuse my saying so, something just a little funny about it. Pray what steps did you take when you found the card upon the door?”

“No, no,” cried Holmes, pushing him back into the chair he had half risen from. “I really wouldn’t miss your case for the world. It’s refreshingly unusual. But, if you’ll excuse me for saying so, there’s something just a little funny about it. What did you do when you found the card on the door?”

“I was staggered, sir. I did not know what to do. Then I called at the offices round, but none of them seemed to know anything about it. Finally, I went to the landlord, who is an accountant living on the ground floor, and I asked him if he could tell me what had become of the Red-headed League. He said that he had never heard of any such body. Then I asked him who Mr. Duncan Ross was. He answered that the name was new to him.

“I was shocked, sir. I didn’t know what to do. Then I went to the nearby offices, but none of them seemed to know anything about it. Finally, I went to the landlord. He is an accountant who lives on the ground floor. I asked him if he could tell me what had happened to the Red-headed League. He said he had never heard of any such organization. Then I asked him who Mr. Duncan Ross was. He said he had never heard the name before.

“‘Well,’ said I, ‘the gentleman at No. 4.’

“‘Well,’ I said, ‘the gentleman at No. 4.’

“‘What, the red-headed man?’

“‘What, the red-haired man?’

“‘Yes.’

“‘Oh,’ said he, ‘his name was William Morris. He was a solicitor and was using my room as a temporary convenience until his new premises were ready. He moved out yesterday.’

“‘Oh,’ he said, ‘his name was William Morris. He was a lawyer and was using my room temporarily until his new office was ready. He moved out yesterday.’

“‘Where could I find him?’

“‘Oh, at his new offices. He did tell me the address. Yes, 17 King Edward Street, near St. Paul’s.’

“‘Oh, at his new offices. He told me the address. Yes, 17 King Edward Street, near St. Paul’s.’

“I started off, Mr. Holmes, but when I got to that address it was a manufactory of artificial knee-caps, and no one in it had ever heard of either Mr. William Morris or Mr. Duncan Ross.”

“I set off, Mr. Holmes, but when I reached the address, it was a factory that made artificial kneecaps. No one there had ever heard of either Mr. William Morris or Mr. Duncan Ross.”

“And what did you do then?” asked Holmes.

“I went home to Saxe-Coburg Square, and I took the advice of my assistant. But he could not help me in any way. He could only say that if I waited I should hear by post. But that was not quite good enough, Mr. Holmes. I did not wish to lose such a place without a struggle, so, as I had heard that you were good enough to give advice to poor folk who were in need of it, I came right away to you.”

“I went home to Saxe-Coburg Square and took my assistant’s advice. But he could not help me. All he could say was that if I waited, I would hear by mail. But that was not good enough, Mr. Holmes. I did not want to lose such a job without a fight. I had heard that you were kind enough to advise poor people who needed help, so I came straight to you.”

“And you did very wisely,” said Holmes. “Your case is an exceedingly remarkable one, and I shall be happy to look into it. From what you have told me I think that it is possible that graver issues hang from it than might at first sight appear.”

“And you did very wisely,” said Holmes. “Your case is very unusual, and I’ll be happy to look into it. From what you’ve told me, I think it may involve more serious matters than it first appears to.”

“Grave enough!” said Mr. Jabez Wilson. “Why, I have lost four pound a week.”

“Serious enough!” said Mr. Jabez Wilson. “I've lost four pounds a week.”

“As far as you are personally concerned,” remarked Holmes, “I do not see that you have any grievance against this extraordinary league. On the contrary, you are, as I understand, richer by some £ 30, to say nothing of the minute knowledge which you have gained on every subject which comes under the letter A. You have lost nothing by them.”

“As far as you are concerned,” said Holmes, “I do not see that you have any complaint against this extraordinary league. On the contrary, as I understand it, you are about £30 richer. You have also gained a detailed knowledge of every subject that comes under the letter A. You have lost nothing because of the league.”

“No, sir. But I want to find out about them, and who they are, and what their object was in playing this prank—if it was a prank—upon me. It was a pretty expensive joke for them, for it cost them two and thirty pounds.”

“No, sir. But I want to find out about them, who they are, and why they played this prank on me. That is, if it was a prank. It was a pretty expensive joke for them, because it cost them thirty-two pounds.”

“We shall endeavour to clear up these points for you. And, first, one or two questions, Mr. Wilson. This assistant of yours who first called your attention to the advertisement—how long had he been with you?”

“We will try to clear up these points for you. First, a question or two, Mr. Wilson. Your assistant first told you about the advertisement. How long had he been with you?”

“About a month then.”

“About a month, then.”

“How did he come?”

“In answer to an advertisement.”

“In response to an advertisement.”

“Was he the only applicant?”

“Was he the only person who applied?”

“No, I had a dozen.”

“Why did you pick him?”

“Because he was handy and would come cheap.”

“Because he was available and would work for low pay.”

“At half wages, in fact.”

“In fact, at half pay.”

“Yes.”

“What is he like, this Vincent Spaulding?”

“What is this Vincent Spaulding like?”

“Small, stout-built, very quick in his ways, no hair on his face, though he’s not short of thirty. Has a white splash of acid upon his forehead.”

“Small, stout, and very quick in his movements. He has no facial hair, though he’s at least thirty. He has a white acid mark on his forehead.”

Holmes sat up in his chair in considerable excitement. “I thought as much,” said he. “Have you ever observed that his ears are pierced for earrings?”

Holmes sat up in his chair, clearly excited. “I thought so,” he said. “Have you ever noticed that his ears are pierced for earrings?”

“Yes, sir. He told me that a gipsy had done it for him when he was a lad.”

“Yes, sir. He told me that a gipsy had done it for him when he was a boy.”

“Hum!” said Holmes, sinking back in deep thought. “He is still with you?”

“Hmm,” said Holmes, leaning back in deep thought. “Is he still with you?”

“Oh, yes, sir; I have only just left him.”

“Oh, yes, sir. I just left him.”

“And has your business been attended to in your absence?”

“And has your business been taken care of while you were away?”

“Nothing to complain of, sir. There’s never very much to do of a morning.”

“Nothing to complain about, sir. There’s never very much to do in the morning.”

“That will do, Mr. Wilson. I shall be happy to give you an opinion upon the subject in the course of a day or two. To-day is Saturday, and I hope that by Monday we may come to a conclusion.”

“That will do, Mr. Wilson. I’ll be happy to give you my opinion on the matter in a day or two. Today is Saturday, and I hope we may reach a conclusion by Monday.”

“Well, Watson,” said Holmes when our visitor had left us, “what do you make of it all?”

“Well, Watson,” said Holmes after our visitor had left, “what do you think of it all?”

“I make nothing of it,” I answered frankly. “It is a most mysterious business.”

“I can’t make sense of it,” I answered frankly. “It’s a very mysterious affair.”

“As a rule,” said Holmes, “the more bizarre a thing is the less mysterious it proves to be. It is your commonplace, featureless crimes which are really puzzling, just as a commonplace face is the most difficult to identify. But I must be prompt over this matter.”

“As a rule,” said Holmes, “the stranger something is, the less mysterious it turns out to be. Ordinary crimes with nothing distinctive about them are the ones that really puzzle us. Just as an ordinary face is the hardest to identify. But I must act quickly on this matter.”

“What are you going to do, then?” I asked.

“To smoke,” he answered. “It is quite a three pipe problem, and I beg that you won’t speak to me for fifty minutes.” He curled himself up in his chair, with his thin knees drawn up to his hawk-like nose, and there he sat with his eyes closed and his black clay pipe thrusting out like the bill of some strange bird. I had come to the conclusion that he had dropped asleep, and indeed was nodding myself, when he suddenly sprang out of his chair with the gesture of a man who has made up his mind and put his pipe down upon the mantelpiece.

“To smoke,” he answered. “It is quite a three-pipe problem, and please don’t speak to me for fifty minutes.” He curled up in his chair, drawing his thin knees up to his hawk-like nose. He sat there with his eyes closed, his black clay pipe sticking out like the bill of some strange bird. I had decided he had fallen asleep, and I was nodding off myself. Then he suddenly sprang from his chair like a man who had made up his mind and put his pipe on the mantelpiece.

“Sarasate plays at the St. James’s Hall this afternoon,” he remarked. “What do you think, Watson? Could your patients spare you for a few hours?”

“Sarasate is playing at the St. James’s Hall this afternoon,” he said. “What do you think, Watson? Could your patients spare you for a few hours?”

“I have nothing to do to-day. My practice is never very absorbing.”

“I have nothing to do today. My practice never takes up much of my time.”

“Then put on your hat and come. I am going through the City first, and we can have some lunch on the way. I observe that there is a good deal of German music on the programme, which is rather more to my taste than Italian or French. It is introspective, and I want to introspect. Come along!”

“Then put on your hat and come. I’m going through the City first, and we can have lunch on the way. I see there’s a lot of German music on the program. I like it rather more than Italian or French music. German music is introspective, and I want to reflect. Come along!”

We travelled by the Underground as far as Aldersgate; and a short walk took us to Saxe-Coburg Square, the scene of the singular story which we had listened to in the morning. It was a poky, little, shabby-genteel place, where four lines of dingy two-storied brick houses looked out into a small railed-in enclosure, where a lawn of weedy grass and a few clumps of faded laurel bushes made a hard fight against a smoke-laden and uncongenial atmosphere. Three gilt balls and a brown board with “JABEZ WILSON” in white letters, upon a corner house, announced the place where our red-headed client carried on his business. Sherlock Holmes stopped in front of it with his head on one side and looked it all over, with his eyes shining brightly between puckered lids. Then he walked slowly up the street, and then down again to the corner, still looking keenly at the houses. Finally he returned to the pawnbroker’s, and, having thumped vigorously upon the pavement with his stick two or three times, he went up to the door and knocked. It was instantly opened by a bright-looking, clean-shaven young fellow, who asked him to step in.

We took the Underground to Aldersgate, then walked a short distance to Saxe-Coburg Square. It was the setting of the strange story we had heard that morning. The square was cramped and shabby, with an air of faded respectability. Four rows of dingy, two-story brick houses faced a small fenced enclosure. Inside, a weedy lawn and a few clumps of faded laurel bushes struggled against the smoky, hostile air. On a corner house, three gold balls and a brown sign with “JABEZ WILSON” in white letters marked our red-haired client’s business. Sherlock Holmes stopped in front of it and tilted his head as he looked it over. His eyes shone brightly between narrowed lids. Then he walked slowly up the street and back down to the corner, still studying the houses closely. Finally, he returned to the pawnbroker’s shop. He struck the pavement hard with his walking stick two or three times, then went to the door and knocked. A bright-looking, clean-shaven young man opened it at once and asked him to come in.

“Thank you,” said Holmes, “I only wished to ask you how you would go from here to the Strand.”

“Thank you,” said Holmes. “I only wanted to ask how you would get from here to the Strand.”

“Third right, fourth left,” answered the assistant promptly, closing the door.

“Third right, fourth left,” the assistant replied promptly, closing the door.

“Smart fellow, that,” observed Holmes as we walked away. “He is, in my judgment, the fourth smartest man in London, and for daring I am not sure that he has not a claim to be third. I have known something of him before.”

“That’s a smart fellow,” said Holmes as we walked away. “In my judgment, he’s the fourth smartest man in London. As for daring, I’m not sure he doesn’t deserve to be third. I’ve known a little about him for some time.”

“Evidently,” said I, “Mr. Wilson’s assistant counts for a good deal in this mystery of the Red-headed League. I am sure that you inquired your way merely in order that you might see him.”

“Clearly,” I said, “Mr. Wilson’s assistant plays a significant part in the mystery of the Red-headed League. I’m sure you asked for directions only so you could see him.”

“Not him.”

“What then?”

“What happened then?”

“The knees of his trousers.”

“The knees of his pants.”

“And what did you see?”

“What I expected to see.”

“Why did you beat the pavement?”

“Why did you strike the pavement?”

“My dear doctor, this is a time for observation, not for talk. We are spies in an enemy’s country. We know something of Saxe-Coburg Square. Let us now explore the parts which lie behind it.”

“My dear doctor, this is a time to observe, not talk. We are spies in enemy territory. We know something about Saxe-Coburg Square. Let’s explore the area behind it now.”

The road in which we found ourselves as we turned round the corner from the retired Saxe-Coburg Square presented as great a contrast to it as the front of a picture does to the back. It was one of the main arteries which conveyed the traffic of the City to the north and west. The roadway was blocked with the immense stream of commerce flowing in a double tide inward and outward, while the footpaths were black with the hurrying swarm of pedestrians. It was difficult to realise as we looked at the line of fine shops and stately business premises that they really abutted on the other side upon the faded and stagnant square which we had just quitted.

When we turned the corner from quiet Saxe-Coburg Square, the street was as different from the square as a picture is from its back. It was a main route carrying traffic from the City to the north and west. The road was blocked by a huge flow of commercial traffic moving in both directions. The sidewalks were black with crowds of hurrying pedestrians. We looked at the row of fine shops and grand business buildings. It was hard to believe that their backs bordered the faded, stagnant square we had just left.

“Let me see,” said Holmes, standing at the corner and glancing along the line, “I should like just to remember the order of the houses here. It is a hobby of mine to have an exact knowledge of London. There is Mortimer’s, the tobacconist, the little newspaper shop, the Coburg branch of the City and Suburban Bank, the Vegetarian Restaurant, and McFarlane’s carriage-building depot. That carries us right on to the other block. And now, Doctor, we’ve done our work, so it’s time we had some play. A sandwich and a cup of coffee, and then off to violin-land, where all is sweetness and delicacy and harmony, and there are no red-headed clients to vex us with their conundrums.”

“Let me see,” said Holmes, standing on the corner and looking down the street. “I’d like to remember the order of the buildings here. Knowing London in exact detail is a hobby of mine. There’s Mortimer’s tobacco shop, the little newspaper shop, and the Coburg branch of the City and Suburban Bank. Then there’s the Vegetarian Restaurant and McFarlane’s carriage-building depot. That takes us all the way to the next block. And now, Doctor, we’ve finished our work, so it’s time for some fun. We’ll have a sandwich and a cup of coffee, then it’s off to violin-land. There, everything is sweet, delicate, and harmonious, and no red-headed clients trouble us with their puzzles.”

My friend was an enthusiastic musician, being himself not only a very capable performer but a composer of no ordinary merit. All the afternoon he sat in the stalls wrapped in the most perfect happiness, gently waving his long, thin fingers in time to the music, while his gently smiling face and his languid, dreamy eyes were as unlike those of Holmes the sleuth-hound, Holmes the relentless, keen-witted, ready-handed criminal agent, as it was possible to conceive. In his singular character the dual nature alternately asserted itself, and his extreme exactness and astuteness represented, as I have often thought, the reaction against the poetic and contemplative mood which occasionally predominated in him. The swing of his nature took him from extreme languor to devouring energy; and, as I knew well, he was never so truly formidable as when, for days on end, he had been lounging in his armchair amid his improvisations and his black-letter editions. Then it was that the lust of the chase would suddenly come upon him, and that his brilliant reasoning power would rise to the level of intuition, until those who were unacquainted with his methods would look askance at him as on a man whose knowledge was not that of other mortals. When I saw him that afternoon so enwrapped in the music at St. James’s Hall I felt that an evil time might be coming upon those whom he had set himself to hunt down.

My friend was an enthusiastic musician. He was not only a very capable performer but also a composer of exceptional talent. All afternoon he sat in the seats near the stage, perfectly happy, gently waving his long, thin fingers in time to the music. His gently smiling face and relaxed, dreamy eyes could not have looked less like those of Holmes the sleuth-hound. This was not Holmes the relentless, sharp-witted, quick-handed detective. The two sides of his unusual character took turns asserting themselves. I have often thought that his extreme precision and shrewdness were a reaction against the poetic, thoughtful mood that sometimes took over. His nature swung from extreme idleness to consuming energy. And, as I knew well, he was never more formidable than after days of lounging in his armchair, improvising music and reading his black-letter editions. Then the desire for the chase would suddenly seize him. His brilliant reasoning would rise to the level of intuition. People unfamiliar with his methods would look at him suspiciously, as if his knowledge were beyond that of ordinary mortals. When I saw him that afternoon, so absorbed in the music at St. James’s Hall, I felt that hard times might be coming for those he had set out to hunt down.

“You want to go home, no doubt, Doctor,” he remarked as we emerged.

“You probably want to go home, Doctor,” he said as we came out.

“Yes, it would be as well.”

“Yes, that would be a good idea.”

“And I have some business to do which will take some hours. This business at Coburg Square is serious.”

“And I have some work to do that will take a few hours. This matter at Coburg Square is serious.”

“Why serious?”

“A considerable crime is in contemplation. I have every reason to believe that we shall be in time to stop it. But to-day being Saturday rather complicates matters. I shall want your help to-night.”

“A serious crime is being planned. I have every reason to believe we will arrive in time to stop it. But the fact that today is Saturday makes things more complicated. I will need your help tonight.”

“At what time?”

“What time?”

“Ten will be early enough.”

“I shall be at Baker Street at ten.”

“I’ll be at Baker Street at ten.”

“Very well. And, I say, Doctor, there may be some little danger, so kindly put your army revolver in your pocket.” He waved his hand, turned on his heel, and disappeared in an instant among the crowd.

“All right. And Doctor, there may be a little danger, so please put your army revolver in your pocket.” He waved, turned around, and disappeared into the crowd in an instant.

I trust that I am not more dense than my neighbours, but I was always oppressed with a sense of my own stupidity in my dealings with Sherlock Holmes. Here I had heard what he had heard, I had seen what he had seen, and yet from his words it was evident that he saw clearly not only what had happened but what was about to happen, while to me the whole business was still confused and grotesque. As I drove home to my house in Kensington I thought over it all, from the extraordinary story of the red-headed copier of the Encyclopædia down to the visit to Saxe-Coburg Square, and the ominous words with which he had parted from me. What was this nocturnal expedition, and why should I go armed? Where were we going, and what were we to do? I had the hint from Holmes that this smooth-faced pawnbroker’s assistant was a formidable man—a man who might play a deep game. I tried to puzzle it out, but gave it up in despair and set the matter aside until night should bring an explanation.

I believe I am no less intelligent than other people, but Sherlock Holmes always made me feel painfully stupid. I had heard and seen everything he had. Yet his words made it clear that he understood not only what had happened, but also what was about to happen. To me, the whole affair was still confusing and bizarre. As I drove home to my house in Kensington, I thought over everything. I began with the extraordinary story of the red-headed man copying the Encyclopædia. I went on to our visit to Saxe-Coburg Square and the ominous words Holmes had spoken before leaving me. What was this nighttime expedition, and why should I bring a weapon? Where were we going, and what were we going to do? Holmes had hinted that the smooth-faced pawnbroker’s assistant was a formidable man, capable of a cunning scheme. I tried to work it out, but gave up in despair. I set the matter aside, hoping that night would bring an explanation.

It was a quarter-past nine when I started from home and made my way across the Park, and so through Oxford Street to Baker Street. Two hansoms were standing at the door, and as I entered the passage I heard the sound of voices from above. On entering his room, I found Holmes in animated conversation with two men, one of whom I recognised as Peter Jones, the official police agent, while the other was a long, thin, sad-faced man, with a very shiny hat and oppressively respectable frock-coat.

I left home at quarter past nine and crossed the Park, then went through Oxford Street to Baker Street. Two hansom cabs were standing at the door. As I entered the hallway, I heard voices upstairs. I entered Holmes’s room and found him deep in conversation with two men. I recognized one as Peter Jones, the police detective. The other was a tall, thin, sad-faced man, wearing a very shiny hat and an excessively respectable frock coat.

“Ha! Our party is complete,” said Holmes, buttoning up his pea-jacket and taking his heavy hunting crop from the rack. “Watson, I think you know Mr. Jones, of Scotland Yard? Let me introduce you to Mr. Merryweather, who is to be our companion in to-night’s adventure.”

“Ha! Our group is complete,” said Holmes, buttoning his coat and taking his heavy hunting crop from the rack. “Watson, I think you know Mr. Jones from Scotland Yard? Let me introduce Mr. Merryweather. He will join us on tonight’s adventure.”

“We’re hunting in couples again, Doctor, you see,” said Jones in his consequential way. “Our friend here is a wonderful man for starting a chase. All he wants is an old dog to help him to do the running down.”

“We’re working as a pair again, Doctor, you see,” said Jones importantly. “Our friend here is wonderful at starting a chase. All he needs is an old dog to help him track down the quarry.”

“I hope a wild goose may not prove to be the end of our chase,” observed Mr. Merryweather gloomily.

“I hope this chase doesn't turn out to be a wild goose chase,” said Mr. Merryweather gloomily.

“You may place considerable confidence in Mr. Holmes, sir,” said the police agent loftily. “He has his own little methods, which are, if he won’t mind my saying so, just a little too theoretical and fantastic, but he has the makings of a detective in him. It is not too much to say that once or twice, as in that business of the Sholto murder and the Agra treasure, he has been more nearly correct than the official force.”

“You can have a great deal of confidence in Mr. Holmes, sir,” said the police agent, speaking grandly. “He has his own little methods. If he won’t mind my saying so, they are a little too theoretical and far-fetched. But he has the makings of a detective. Once or twice, he has been closer to the truth than the official police. The Sholto murder and the Agra treasure were one such case.”

“Oh, if you say so, Mr. Jones, it is all right,” said the stranger with deference. “Still, I confess that I miss my rubber. It is the first Saturday night for seven-and-twenty years that I have not had my rubber.”

“Oh, if you say so, Mr. Jones, that’s all right,” the stranger said respectfully. “Still, I have to admit I miss my card game. This is the first Saturday night in twenty-seven years that I haven’t played.”

“I think you will find,” said Sherlock Holmes, “that you will play for a higher stake to-night than you have ever done yet, and that the play will be more exciting. For you, Mr. Merryweather, the stake will be some £ 30,000; and for you, Jones, it will be the man upon whom you wish to lay your hands.”

“I think you’ll find,” said Sherlock Holmes, “that tonight you’ll play for higher stakes than ever before. The game will be more exciting, too. For you, Mr. Merryweather, the stake will be about £30,000. For you, Jones, it will be the man you want to catch.”

“John Clay, the murderer, thief, smasher, and forger. He’s a young man, Mr. Merryweather, but he is at the head of his profession, and I would rather have my bracelets on him than on any criminal in London. He’s a remarkable man, is young John Clay. His grandfather was a royal duke, and he himself has been to Eton and Oxford. His brain is as cunning as his fingers, and though we meet signs of him at every turn, we never know where to find the man himself. He’ll crack a crib in Scotland one week, and be raising money to build an orphanage in Cornwall the next. I’ve been on his track for years and have never set eyes on him yet.”

“John Clay is a murderer, thief, counterfeiter, and forger. He’s young, Mr. Merryweather, but he’s at the top of his profession. I’d rather put handcuffs on him than on any other criminal in London. Young John Clay is a remarkable man. His grandfather was a royal duke, and he went to Eton and Oxford. His mind is as cunning as his fingers. Though we find signs of him everywhere, we never know where to find the man himself. One week he’ll break into a house in Scotland. The next, he’ll be raising money to build an orphanage in Cornwall. I’ve been tracking him for years, but I’ve never even seen him.”

“I hope that I may have the pleasure of introducing you to-night. I’ve had one or two little turns also with Mr. John Clay, and I agree with you that he is at the head of his profession. It is past ten, however, and quite time that we started. If you two will take the first hansom, Watson and I will follow in the second.”

“I hope I’ll have the pleasure of introducing you tonight. I’ve had a few encounters with Mr. John Clay myself. I agree that he’s at the top of his profession. But it’s past ten, and it’s time we left. If you two take the first cab, Watson and I will follow in the second.”

Sherlock Holmes was not very communicative during the long drive and lay back in the cab humming the tunes which he had heard in the afternoon. We rattled through an endless labyrinth of gas-lit streets until we emerged into Farrington Street.

Sherlock Holmes said little during the long drive. He leaned back in the cab, humming the tunes he had heard that afternoon. We rattled through an endless maze of gas-lit streets until we came out on Farrington Street.

“We are close there now,” my friend remarked. “This fellow Merryweather is a bank director, and personally interested in the matter. I thought it as well to have Jones with us also. He is not a bad fellow, though an absolute imbecile in his profession. He has one positive virtue. He is as brave as a bulldog and as tenacious as a lobster if he gets his claws upon anyone. Here we are, and they are waiting for us.”

“We’re nearly there now,” my friend said. “Merryweather is a bank director, and he has a personal interest in the matter. I thought it best to bring Jones along too. He’s not a bad fellow, though he’s a complete fool at his job. He has one real virtue. He’s as brave as a bulldog and, if he gets his claws on someone, as tenacious as a lobster. Here we are, and they’re waiting for us.”

We had reached the same crowded thoroughfare in which we had found ourselves in the morning. Our cabs were dismissed, and, following the guidance of Mr. Merryweather, we passed down a narrow passage and through a side door, which he opened for us. Within there was a small corridor, which ended in a very massive iron gate. This also was opened, and led down a flight of winding stone steps, which terminated at another formidable gate. Mr. Merryweather stopped to light a lantern, and then conducted us down a dark, earth-smelling passage, and so, after opening a third door, into a huge vault or cellar, which was piled all round with crates and massive boxes.

We had reached the same crowded street where we had been that morning. We dismissed our cabs and followed Mr. Merryweather down a narrow passage. He opened a side door for us, and we entered a small corridor. At the end stood a massive iron gate. He opened this too, and we went down a winding flight of stone steps. At the bottom stood another formidable gate. Mr. Merryweather stopped to light a lantern, then led us down a dark passage that smelled of earth. After opening a third door, he led us into a huge vault or cellar. Crates and massive boxes were piled all around it.

“You are not very vulnerable from above,” Holmes remarked as he held up the lantern and gazed about him.

“You’re not very vulnerable from above,” Holmes said as he held up the lantern and looked around.

“Nor from below,” said Mr. Merryweather, striking his stick upon the flags which lined the floor. “Why, dear me, it sounds quite hollow!” he remarked, looking up in surprise.

“Not from below either,” said Mr. Merryweather, striking the stone floor with his stick. “Goodness, it sounds quite hollow!” he said, looking up in surprise.

“I must really ask you to be a little more quiet!” said Holmes severely. “You have already imperilled the whole success of our expedition. Might I beg that you would have the goodness to sit down upon one of those boxes, and not to interfere?”

“I must ask you to be a little quieter!” said Holmes sternly. “You have already put the whole success of our expedition at risk. Please sit down on one of those boxes and don't interfere.”

The solemn Mr. Merryweather perched himself upon a crate, with a very injured expression upon his face, while Holmes fell upon his knees upon the floor and, with the lantern and a magnifying lens, began to examine minutely the cracks between the stones. A few seconds sufficed to satisfy him, for he sprang to his feet again and put his glass in his pocket.

The solemn Mr. Merryweather sat on a crate, looking deeply offended. Meanwhile, Holmes knelt on the floor and examined the cracks between the stones closely, using the lantern and a magnifying glass. After a few seconds, he was satisfied. He sprang to his feet and put the glass in his pocket.

“We have at least an hour before us,” he remarked, “for they can hardly take any steps until the good pawnbroker is safely in bed. Then they will not lose a minute, for the sooner they do their work the longer time they will have for their escape. We are at present, Doctor—as no doubt you have divined—in the cellar of the City branch of one of the principal London banks. Mr. Merryweather is the chairman of directors, and he will explain to you that there are reasons why the more daring criminals of London should take a considerable interest in this cellar at present.”

“We have at least an hour,” he remarked, “because they can hardly act until the good pawnbroker is safely in bed. Then they will not waste a minute. The sooner they do their work, the more time they will have to escape. As you have no doubt guessed, Doctor, we are in the cellar of the City branch of a major London bank. Mr. Merryweather is the chairman of the board. He will explain why London’s more daring criminals have reason to be especially interested in this cellar right now.”

“It is our French gold,” whispered the director. “We have had several warnings that an attempt might be made upon it.”

“It’s our French gold,” whispered the director. “We’ve had several warnings that someone might try to steal it.”

“Your French gold?”

“Yes. We had occasion some months ago to strengthen our resources and borrowed for that purpose 30,000 napoleons from the Bank of France. It has become known that we have never had occasion to unpack the money, and that it is still lying in our cellar. The crate upon which I sit contains 2,000 napoleons packed between layers of lead foil. Our reserve of bullion is much larger at present than is usually kept in a single branch office, and the directors have had misgivings upon the subject.”

“Yes. Some months ago, we needed to strengthen our resources, so we borrowed 30,000 napoleons from the Bank of France. It has become known that we never needed to unpack the money and that it is still in our cellar. The crate I am sitting on contains 2,000 napoleons packed between layers of lead foil. Our reserve of gold is now much larger than what is usually kept in a single branch office. The directors have been concerned about this.”

“Which were very well justified,” observed Holmes. “And now it is time that we arranged our little plans. I expect that within an hour matters will come to a head. In the meantime Mr. Merryweather, we must put the screen over that dark lantern.”

“Which were very well justified,” said Holmes. “And now it is time to make our little plans. I expect matters will come to a head within an hour. In the meantime, Mr. Merryweather, we must put the screen over that dark lantern.”

“And sit in the dark?”

“I am afraid so. I had brought a pack of cards in my pocket, and I thought that, as we were a partie carrée, you might have your rubber after all. But I see that the enemy’s preparations have gone so far that we cannot risk the presence of a light. And, first of all, we must choose our positions. These are daring men, and though we shall take them at a disadvantage, they may do us some harm unless we are careful. I shall stand behind this crate, and do you conceal yourselves behind those. Then, when I flash a light upon them, close in swiftly. If they fire, Watson, have no compunction about shooting them down.”

“I’m afraid so. I brought a pack of cards in my pocket. Since there were four of us, I thought you might still play your rubber. But I see that the enemy’s preparations have gone so far that we cannot risk a light. First, we must choose our positions. These men are daring. Though we will catch them at a disadvantage, they may harm us unless we are careful. I’ll stand behind this crate. You hide behind those. Then, when I shine a light on them, close in quickly. If they fire, Watson, don’t hesitate to shoot them down.”

I placed my revolver, cocked, upon the top of the wooden case behind which I crouched. Holmes shot the slide across the front of his lantern and left us in pitch darkness—such an absolute darkness as I have never before experienced. The smell of hot metal remained to assure us that the light was still there, ready to flash out at a moment’s notice. To me, with my nerves worked up to a pitch of expectancy, there was something depressing and subduing in the sudden gloom, and in the cold dank air of the vault.

I placed my cocked revolver on top of the wooden case behind which I crouched. Holmes closed the slide over his lantern, leaving us in pitch darkness. I had never experienced such complete darkness before. The smell of hot metal assured us that the light was still there, ready to flash out at a moment’s notice. My nerves were tense with anticipation. The sudden darkness and the cold, damp air of the vault made me feel depressed and subdued.

“They have but one retreat,” whispered Holmes. “That is back through the house into Saxe-Coburg Square. I hope that you have done what I asked you, Jones?”

“They have only one way out,” whispered Holmes. “They must go back through the house into Saxe-Coburg Square. I hope you’ve done what I asked, Jones?”

“I have an inspector and two officers waiting at the front door.”

“Then we have stopped all the holes. And now we must be silent and wait.”

“Then we have blocked all the holes. Now we must be quiet and wait.”

What a time it seemed! From comparing notes afterwards it was but an hour and a quarter, yet it appeared to me that the night must have almost gone, and the dawn be breaking above us. My limbs were weary and stiff, for I feared to change my position; yet my nerves were worked up to the highest pitch of tension, and my hearing was so acute that I could not only hear the gentle breathing of my companions, but I could distinguish the deeper, heavier in-breath of the bulky Jones from the thin, sighing note of the bank director. From my position I could look over the case in the direction of the floor. Suddenly my eyes caught the glint of a light.

What a long time it seemed! When we compared notes afterward, we found it had been only an hour and a quarter. Yet I thought the night must be almost over and dawn breaking above us. My limbs were tired and stiff because I was afraid to move. Yet my nerves were stretched to their limit, and my hearing was extraordinarily sharp. I could hear my companions breathing gently. I could even distinguish the deep, heavy breaths of the bulky Jones from the bank director’s thin, sighing breaths. From where I sat, I could look over the case toward the floor. Suddenly, I caught the glint of a light.

At first it was but a lurid spark upon the stone pavement. Then it lengthened out until it became a yellow line, and then, without any warning or sound, a gash seemed to open and a hand appeared, a white, almost womanly hand, which felt about in the centre of the little area of light. For a minute or more the hand, with its writhing fingers, protruded out of the floor. Then it was withdrawn as suddenly as it appeared, and all was dark again save the single lurid spark which marked a chink between the stones.

At first, there was only a reddish spark on the stone pavement. Then it stretched into a yellow line. Without warning or sound, an opening seemed to appear, and a hand emerged. It was white and almost womanly, and it felt around in the center of the small patch of light. For a minute or more, the hand stuck out of the floor, its fingers writhing. Then it withdrew as suddenly as it had appeared. All was dark again, except for the single reddish spark that marked a crack between the stones.

Its disappearance, however, was but momentary. With a rending, tearing sound, one of the broad, white stones turned over upon its side and left a square, gaping hole, through which streamed the light of a lantern. Over the edge there peeped a clean-cut, boyish face, which looked keenly about it, and then, with a hand on either side of the aperture, drew itself shoulder-high and waist-high, until one knee rested upon the edge. In another instant he stood at the side of the hole and was hauling after him a companion, lithe and small like himself, with a pale face and a shock of very red hair.

Its disappearance, however, lasted only a moment. With a ripping, tearing sound, one of the broad white stones turned onto its side. It left a wide square hole, and lantern light streamed through it. A boyish face with clean-cut features peered over the edge and looked sharply around. Then the boy placed a hand on each side of the opening and pulled himself up. His shoulders emerged, then his waist, until one knee rested on the edge. A moment later, he stood beside the hole, pulling a companion up after him. The companion was small and agile like him, with a pale face and a thick mass of very red hair.

“It’s all clear,” he whispered. “Have you the chisel and the bags? Great Scott! Jump, Archie, jump, and I’ll swing for it!”

“It’s all clear,” he whispered. “Do you have the chisel and the bags? Good God! Jump, Archie, jump, and I’ll be hanged for it!”

Sherlock Holmes had sprung out and seized the intruder by the collar. The other dived down the hole, and I heard the sound of rending cloth as Jones clutched at his skirts. The light flashed upon the barrel of a revolver, but Holmes’ hunting crop came down on the man’s wrist, and the pistol clinked upon the stone floor.

Sherlock Holmes sprang out and grabbed the intruder by the collar. The man dived down the hole, and I heard cloth tear as Jones grabbed at his coattails. The light flashed on the barrel of a revolver. But Holmes brought his riding crop down on the man's wrist, and the pistol clinked onto the stone floor.

“It’s no use, John Clay,” said Holmes blandly. “You have no chance at all.”

“It’s no use, John Clay,” said Holmes calmly. “You have no chance at all.”

“So I see,” the other answered with the utmost coolness. “I fancy that my pal is all right, though I see you have got his coat-tails.”

“So I see,” the other replied calmly. “I think my pal is all right, though I see you have his coat-tails.”

“There are three men waiting for him at the door,” said Holmes.

“Oh, indeed! You seem to have done the thing very completely. I must compliment you.”

“Oh, really! You seem to have done a very thorough job. I must congratulate you.”

“And I you,” Holmes answered. “Your red-headed idea was very new and effective.”

“And I you,” Holmes replied. “Your red-headed idea was very original and effective.”

“You’ll see your pal again presently,” said Jones. “He’s quicker at climbing down holes than I am. Just hold out while I fix the derbies.”

“You’ll see your friend again soon,” said Jones. “He’s quicker at climbing down holes than I am. Just hold still while I put on the handcuffs.”

“I beg that you will not touch me with your filthy hands,” remarked our prisoner as the handcuffs clattered upon his wrists. “You may not be aware that I have royal blood in my veins. Have the goodness, also, when you address me always to say ‘sir’ and ‘please.’”

“Please don't touch me with your filthy hands,” our prisoner said as the handcuffs clattered onto his wrists. “You may not know that I have royal blood in my veins. Also, please always say ‘sir’ and ‘please’ when you speak to me.”

“All right,” said Jones with a stare and a snigger. “Well, would you please, sir, march upstairs, where we can get a cab to carry your Highness to the police-station?”

“All right,” said Jones, staring and snickering. “Well, sir, would you please march upstairs? We can get a cab there to take your Highness to the police station.”

“That is better,” said John Clay serenely. He made a sweeping bow to the three of us and walked quietly off in the custody of the detective.

“That’s better,” said John Clay calmly. He gave the three of us a grand bow. Then he walked quietly away with the detective, who had him in custody.

“Really, Mr. Holmes,” said Mr. Merryweather as we followed them from the cellar, “I do not know how the bank can thank you or repay you. There is no doubt that you have detected and defeated in the most complete manner one of the most determined attempts at bank robbery that have ever come within my experience.”

“Really, Mr. Holmes,” said Mr. Merryweather as we followed them out of the cellar, “I don’t know how the bank can thank you or repay you. You have uncovered and completely stopped one of the most determined bank robbery attempts I have ever encountered.”

“I have had one or two little scores of my own to settle with Mr. John Clay,” said Holmes. “I have been at some small expense over this matter, which I shall expect the bank to refund, but beyond that I am amply repaid by having had an experience which is in many ways unique, and by hearing the very remarkable narrative of the Red-headed League.”

“I had one or two small scores of my own to settle with Mr. John Clay,” said Holmes. “I have spent a little money on this matter, which I expect the bank to repay. But beyond that, I am well rewarded by an experience that was unique in many ways. I also heard the very remarkable story of the Red-headed League.”

“You see, Watson,” he explained in the early hours of the morning as we sat over a glass of whisky and soda in Baker Street, “it was perfectly obvious from the first that the only possible object of this rather fantastic business of the advertisement of the League, and the copying of the Encyclopædia, must be to get this not over-bright pawnbroker out of the way for a number of hours every day. It was a curious way of managing it, but, really, it would be difficult to suggest a better. The method was no doubt suggested to Clay’s ingenious mind by the colour of his accomplice’s hair. The £ 4 a week was a lure which must draw him, and what was it to them, who were playing for thousands? They put in the advertisement, one rogue has the temporary office, the other rogue incites the man to apply for it, and together they manage to secure his absence every morning in the week. From the time that I heard of the assistant having come for half wages, it was obvious to me that he had some strong motive for securing the situation.”

“You see, Watson,” he explained in the early hours of the morning, as we sat over a glass of whisky and soda in Baker Street, “the purpose of the League’s advertisement and the copying of the Encyclopædia was perfectly obvious from the start. The only possible aim of this rather fantastic scheme was to get the not very bright pawnbroker out of the way for several hours every day. It was a curious way to do it, but it would be hard to suggest a better one. No doubt the color of his accomplice’s hair gave Clay the idea. The £4 a week was a lure the pawnbroker was bound to take. And what was that to the criminals, who stood to gain thousands? They placed the advertisement, and one rogue took a temporary office. The other urged the pawnbroker to apply. Together, they managed to get him away every morning of the week. As soon as I heard that the assistant had taken the job at half wages, I knew he must have had a strong reason for wanting it.”

“But how could you guess what the motive was?”

“But how could you guess the motive?”

“Had there been women in the house, I should have suspected a mere vulgar intrigue. That, however, was out of the question. The man’s business was a small one, and there was nothing in his house which could account for such elaborate preparations, and such an expenditure as they were at. It must, then, be something out of the house. What could it be? I thought of the assistant’s fondness for photography, and his trick of vanishing into the cellar. The cellar! There was the end of this tangled clue. Then I made inquiries as to this mysterious assistant and found that I had to deal with one of the coolest and most daring criminals in London. He was doing something in the cellar—something which took many hours a day for months on end. What could it be, once more? I could think of nothing save that he was running a tunnel to some other building.

“If there had been women in the house, I would have suspected a sordid affair. But that was out of the question. The man’s business was small. Nothing in his house could explain such elaborate preparations or the money they were spending. So it had to be something outside the house. What could it be? I thought of the assistant’s interest in photography and his habit of disappearing into the cellar. The cellar! That was the answer to this tangled mystery. Then I asked about the mysterious assistant. I found that I was dealing with one of the coolest and boldest criminals in London. He was doing something in the cellar that took many hours a day for months on end. Again, what could it be? I could think of only one answer: he was digging a tunnel to another building.

“So far I had got when we went to visit the scene of action. I surprised you by beating upon the pavement with my stick. I was ascertaining whether the cellar stretched out in front or behind. It was not in front. Then I rang the bell, and, as I hoped, the assistant answered it. We have had some skirmishes, but we had never set eyes upon each other before. I hardly looked at his face. His knees were what I wished to see. You must yourself have remarked how worn, wrinkled, and stained they were. They spoke of those hours of burrowing. The only remaining point was what they were burrowing for. I walked round the corner, saw the City and Suburban Bank abutted on our friend’s premises, and felt that I had solved my problem. When you drove home after the concert I called upon Scotland Yard and upon the chairman of the bank directors, with the result that you have seen.”

“That was how far I had got when we went to visit the scene. I surprised you by tapping the pavement with my stick. I was checking whether the cellar extended in front of the building or behind it. It did not extend in front. Then I rang the bell, and the assistant answered, as I had hoped. We had clashed before, but we had never seen each other. I hardly looked at his face. His knees were what I wanted to see. You must have noticed how worn, wrinkled, and stained they were. They showed that he had spent hours digging. The only remaining question was what they were digging for. I walked around the corner and saw that the City and Suburban Bank was next to our friend’s premises. Then I felt I had solved the problem. After the concert, when you drove home, I called on Scotland Yard and the chairman of the bank’s board. You have seen the result.”

“And how could you tell that they would make their attempt to-night?” I asked.

“And how could you tell they would make their attempt tonight?” I asked.

“Well, when they closed their League offices that was a sign that they cared no longer about Mr. Jabez Wilson’s presence—in other words, that they had completed their tunnel. But it was essential that they should use it soon, as it might be discovered, or the bullion might be removed. Saturday would suit them better than any other day, as it would give them two days for their escape. For all these reasons I expected them to come to-night.”

“Well, when they closed their League offices, it showed they no longer cared whether Mr. Jabez Wilson was present. In other words, they had finished their tunnel. But they had to use it soon, because it might be discovered or the bullion might be removed. Saturday suited them better than any other day because it would give them two days to escape. For all these reasons, I expected them to come tonight.”

“You reasoned it out beautifully,” I exclaimed in unfeigned admiration. “It is so long a chain, and yet every link rings true.”

“You reasoned it out beautifully,” I exclaimed with genuine admiration. “It is a long chain of reasoning, yet every link rings true.”

“It saved me from ennui,” he answered, yawning. “Alas! I already feel it closing in upon me. My life is spent in one long effort to escape from the commonplaces of existence. These little problems help me to do so.”

“It saved me from boredom,” he answered, yawning. “Sadly, I already feel boredom closing in on me. I spend my life trying to escape the ordinary routines of existence. These little problems help me do that.”

“And you are a benefactor of the race,” said I.

“And you are a benefactor of humanity,” I said.

He shrugged his shoulders. “Well, perhaps, after all, it is of some little use,” he remarked. “‘L’homme c’est rien—l’œuvre c’est tout,’ as Gustave Flaubert wrote to George Sand.”

He shrugged. “Well, perhaps it is of some little use after all,” he said. “‘L’homme c’est rien, l’œuvre c’est tout,’ as Gustave Flaubert wrote to George Sand.”