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A
STUDY IN SCARLET

A NOVEL

By A.CONAN DOYLE, author of
“The White Company,” “The Sign of the Four,’
“Beyond the City,’ ‘“‘The Sherlock Holmes
Stories,” Etc. oak dak eens

——

NEW YORK AND LONDON
STREET & SMITH, PUBLISHERS

CONTENTS.

PART L

(Boing a veprint from the reminiscences of John H

Watson, M.D., late of the Army
Medical Department.)

CHAPTER,
I—Mr. Sherlock Holmes. 0000 0000000 00-00 6eee

TI.—The Science of Deduction .....cesccceces
III.—The Lauriston Gardens Mystery....cecee:
IV.—What John Rance had to Tell.....0..-02

V.—Our Advertisement Brings a Visitor......
VI.—Tobias Gregson Shows What he Can do..

VII.—Light in the Darkness ....cccoverevccocce

PART IL
The Country of the Saints,

1.—On the Great Alkali Plain ......+scccece.
II.—The Flower of Utah ......ccccccccccccce
il1.—John Ferrier Talks with the Prophet......
IV.—A Flight for Life... ccccccccccccetsccece
V.—The Avenging Angels ...-scccccscesccccces

VI—A Continuation of the Reminiscences of
John H. Watson, M.D. eeeaevceoseo ee eeene

VII—The Conclusion 60000 2Oll 0900 000-5 08-09 8000

s2eZ2e28S «a

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186

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167

A STUDY IN SCARLET.

PART I.

(Being a reprint from the reminiscences of JOHN H. WaTSON, M.D.,
late of the Army Medical Department.)

CHAPTER I.
MR. SHERLOCK HOLMES.

In the year 1878 I took my degree of Doctor of
Medicine of the University of London, and proceeded
to Netley to go through the course prescribed for sur-
geonsin the army. Having completed my studies there,
I was duly attached to the Fifth Northumberland Fusi-
liers as assistant surgeon. ‘The regiment was stationed
in India at the time, and before I could join it the sec-
ond Afghan war had broken out. On landing at Bom-
bay, I learned that my corps had advanced through the
passes, and was already deep in the enemy’s country.
I followed, however, with many other officers who were
in the same situation as myself, and succeeded in reach-
ing Candahar in safety, where I found my regiment, and
at once entered upon my new duties.

§

6 A STUDY IN SCARLET,

The campaign brought honors and promotion to many,
but for me it had nothing but misfortune and disaster.
I was removed from my brigade and attached to the
Berkshires, with whom I served at the fatal battle of
Maiwand. There I was struck on the shoulder by a
Jezail bullet, which shattered the bone and grazed the
subclavian artery. I should have fallen into the hands
of the murderous Ghazis had it not been for the devo-
tion and courage shown by Murray, my orderly, who
threw me across a pack-horse and succeeded in bring-
ing me safely to the British lines.

Worn with pain, and weak from the prolonged hard-
ships which I had undergone, I was removed, with a
great train of wounded sufferers, to the base hospital at
Peshawur. Here I rallied, and had already improved
so far as to be able to walk about the wards, and even
to bask a little upon the veranda, when I was struck
down by enteric fever, that curse of our Indian posses-
sions. For months my life was despaired of, and when
at last I came to myself and became convalescent, I
was so weak and emaciated that a medical board deter-
mined that not a day should be-lost in sending me back
to England. Iwas dispatched, accordingly, in the troop-
ship “‘ Orontes,” and landed a month later on Portsmouth
jetty, with my health irretrievably ruined, but with per-
mission from a paternal government to spend the next
nine months in attempting to improve it.

I had neither kith nor kin in England, and was there-
fore as free as air—or as free as an income of eleven
shillings and sixpence a day will permit a man to be.
Under such circumstances, I naturally gravitated to

4A STUDY IN SCARLET, 7

London, that great cesspool into which all the loungers
and idlers of the empire are {rresistibly drained. There
I stayed for some time at a private hotel in the Strand,
leading a comfortless, meaningless existence, and spend-
ing such money as I had considerably more freely than
I ought. So alarming did the state of my finances be-
come, that I soon realized that I must either leave the
metropolis and rusticate somewhere in the country, or that
I must make a complete alteration in my style of living.
Choosing the latter alternative, I began by making up
my mind to leave the hotel, and to take up my quarters
in some less pretentious and less expensive domicile.

On the very day that I had come to this conclusion,
I was standing at the Criterion bar, when some one .
tapped me on the shoulder, <nd turning round I recog-
nized young Stamford, who had been a dresser under
me at Bart’s. The sight of a friendly face in the great
wilderness of London is a pleasant thing indeed to a
lonely man. In old days Stamford had never been a
particular crony of mine, but now I hailed him with en-
thusiasm, and he, in his turn, appeared to be delighted
to see me. In the exuberance of my joy, I asked him
to lunch with me at the Holborn, and we started off to-
gether in a hansom.

“What ever have you been doing with yourself, Wat-
son?” he asked, in undisguised wonder, as we rattled
through the crowded London streets. “ You are as thin
as a lath and as brown as a nut.”

I gave him a short sketch of my adventures, and had
hardly concluded it by the time that we reached our
destination.

8 A STUDY IN SCARLET.

“Poor devil! ” he said, commiseratingly, after he
had listened to my misfortunes. ‘‘ What are you up to
now ?”

“Looking for lodgings,” I answered. “Trying to
solve the problem as to whether it is possible to get
comfortable rooms at a reasonable price.”

“That’s a strange thing,” remarked my companion;
“you are the second man to-day that has used that ex-
pression to me.”

“ And who was the first ?” I asked.

“A fellow who is working at the chemical laboratory
up at the hospital. He was bemoaning himself this
morning because he could not get some one to go
halves with him in some nice rooms which he had
found, and which were too much for his purse.”

“By Jove!” I cried, “if he really wants some one to
share the rooms and the expense, I am the very man for
him. I should prefer having a partner to being alone.”

Young Stamford looked rather strangely at me over
his wine-glass.

“You don’t know Sherlock Holmes yet,” he said;
“perhaps you would not care for him as a constant
companion.”

“Why, what is there against him ?”

“Oh, I didn’t say there was anything against him.
He is a little queer in his ideas—an enthusiast in some
branches of science. As far as I know, he is a decent
fellow enough.”

“ A medical student, I suppose ?” said I.

“No; I have no idea what he intends to goinfor. I
believe he is well up in anatomy, ana he is a first-class

A STUDY IN SCARLEY. 9

chemist; but, as far as I know, he has never taken out
any systematic medical classes. His studies are very
desultory and eccentric, but he has amassed a lot of
out-of-the-way knowledge which would astonish his pro- |
fessors.”’

“Did you never ask him what he was going in for ?”
I asked. >

“No; he is not a man that it is easy to draw out,
though he can be communicative enough when the fancy
seizes him.”

“T should like to meet him,” I said. “If Iam to
lodge with any one, I should prefer a man of studious
and quiet habits. I am not strong enough yet to stand
much noise or excitement. I had enough of both in
Afghanistan to last me for the remainder of my natural
existence. How could I meet this friend of yours ?”

“ He is sure to be at the laboratory. He either avoids
the place tor weeks, or else he works there from morn-
ing to night. If you like, we shall drive round together
after luncheon.”

“ Certainly,” I answered ; and the conversation drifted
away into other channels.

As we made our way to the hospital after leaving the
Holborn, Stamford gave me a few more particulars about
the gentleman whom I proposed to take as a fellow:
lodger.

“You mustn’t blame me if you don’t get on with
him,” he said; “I know nothing more of him than I
have learned from meeting him occasionally in the lab-
oratory. You proposed this arrangement, so you mus*
not hold me responsible.”

10 4 STUDY IN SCARLET.

“If we don’t get on it will be easy to part company,”
I answered. “It seems to me, Stamford,” I added, look-
ing hard at my companion, “that you have some reason
for washing your hands of the matter. Is this fellow’s
temper so formidable, or what is it? Don’t be mealy-
mouthed about it.”

“Tt is not easy to express the iuéxpressible” he an-
swered, with a laugh. ‘‘ Holmes 1s a little too scientific
for my tastes—-it approaches to cold-bloodedness. I
could imagine his giving a friend a little pinch of the
latest vegetable alkaloid, not out of malevolence, you |
understand, but simply out of a spirit of inquiry in order
to have an accurate idea of the effects. To do him
justice, I think that he would take it himself with the
same readiness. He appears to have a passion for defi-
nite and exact knowledge.”

“Very right, too.”

“Yes; but it may be pushed to excess. When it
comes to beating the subjects in the dissecting-rooms
with a stick, it is certainly taking rather a bizarre shape.”

“ Beating the subjects!”

“Yes, to verify how far bruises may be produced
after death. I saw him at it with my own eyes.”

“ And yet you say he is not 2 medical student ?™

“No. Heaven knows what the objects of his studies
are! But here we are, and you must form your own
impressions about him.”

As he spoke, we turned down a narrow lane and
passed through a smal! side door, which opened into a
wing of the great hospital. It was familiar ground to
me, and I needed no guiding as we ascended the blee’*

da STUDY IN SCARLET. 2 |

stone staircase and made our way down the long corridor
with its vista of whitewashed wall and dun-colored doors.
Near the further end a low, arched passage branched
away from it and led to the chemical laboratory.

This was a lofty chamber, lined and littered with
countless bottles. Broad, low tables were scattered
about, which bristled with retorts, test-tubes, and little
Bunsen lamps, with their blue flickering flames. There
was only one student in the room, who was bending
over a distant table absorbed in his work. At the sound
of our steps he glanced round and sprung to his feet with
a cry of pleasure.

“T’ve found it! I’ve found it!” he shouted to my
companion, running toward us with a test-tube in his
hand. “I have found a reagent which is precipitated
by hemoglobin, and by nothing else.”

- Had he discovered a gold mine, greater delight could
not have shone upon his features.

“ Dr. Watson—Mr. Sherlock Holmes,” said Stamford,
introducing us.

“How are you?” he said, cordially, gripping my
hand with a strength for which I should hardly have
given seg credit. “You have been in sane enti I
perceive.”

“How on earth did you know that?” I asked, in
astonishment.

“ Never mind,” said he, chuckling to himself. “The
question now is about hemoglobin. No doubt you see
the significance of this discovery of mine ?”

“Tt is interesting, chemically, no doubt,” I answered ;
“but practically—

12 A STUDY IN SCARLET,

“Why, man, it is the most practical medico-legal dis-
covery for years. Don’t you see that it gives us an in-
fallible test for blood-stains ? Come over here, now!”
He seized me by the coat-sleeve in his eagerness, and
drew me over to the table at which he had been work-
ing. “Let us have some fresh blood,” he said, digging

_a long bodkin into his finger, and drawing off the result-

ing drop of blood in a chemical pipette. “ Now, I add
this small quantity of blood to a litre of water. You
perceive that the resulting mixture has the appearance
of true water. The proportion of blood cannot be more
than one in a million. I have no doubt, however, that
we shall be able to obtain the characteristic reaction.”

As he spoke, he threw into the vessel a few white
crystals, and then added some drops of a transparent
fluid. In an instant the contents assumed a dull mahog-
any color, and a brownish dust was precipitated to the
bottom of the glass jar. |

“Ha! ha!” he cried, clapping his hands and looking
as delighted ds a child with a new toy. “ What do you
think of that ?”

“Tt seems to be a very delicate test,” I remarked.

“Beautiful! beautiful! The old guaiacum test was
very clumsy and uncertain. So is the microscopic ex-
amination for blood-corpuscles. ‘The latter is valueless
if the stains are a few hours old. Now, this appears to
act as well whether the blood is old or new. Had this
test been invented, there are hundreds of men now
walking the earth who would long ago have paid the
penalty of their crimes.”

“Indeed!” I murmured.

A STUDY IN SCARLET. 13

“Criminal cases are continually hinging upon that
one point. A man is suspected of a crime months per-
haps after it has been committed. His linen or clothes
are examined, and brownish stains discovered upon
them. Are they blood-stains, or mud-stains, or rust- |
stains, or fruit-stains, or what are they? ‘That is a
question which has puzzled many an expert ; and why P
Because there was no reliable test. Now we have the
Sherlock Holmes test, and there will no longer be any
difficulty.”

His eyes fairly glittered as he spoke, and he put his
hand over his heart and bowed as if to some applauding
crowd conjured up by his imagination.

“You are to be congratulated,” I remarked, consider-
ably surprised at his enthusiasm.

“There was the case of Von Bischoff at Frankfort
last year. He would certainly have been hung had this
test been in existence. ‘Then there was Mason, of
Bradford, and the notorious Muller, and Lefevre, of
Montpellier, and Samson, of New Orleans. I could
name a score of cases in which it would have been de-
Cisive.”

“You seem to be a walking calendar of crime,” saic
Stamford, with a laugh. “You might start a paper on
those lines. Call it the ‘ Police News of the Past.’”

“Very interesting reading it might be made, too,” re-
marked Sherlock Holmes, sticking a small piece of plas-
ter over the prick of his finger. “I have to be careful,”
he continued, turning to me with a smile, “ for I dabble
with poisons a good deal.”

He held out his hand as he spoke, and I noticed that

{4 A STUDY IN SCARLET.

it was all mottled over with similar pieces of plaster and
discolored with strong acids.

“We came here on business,” said Stamford, sitting
down on a three-legged stool, and pushing another one
in my direction with his foot. ‘‘ My frend here wants
to take diggings, and as you were complaining that you
could get no one to go halves with you, I thought that
I had better bring you together.”

Sherlock Holmes seemed delighted at the idea of
sharing his rooms with me.

“T have my eye ona suite in Baker street,” he sail

“which would suit us down to the ground. You don’t
mind the smell of strong tobacco, I hope ?”

“T always smoke ‘ship’s’ myself,” I answered.

“That’s good enough. I generally have chemicals
about, and occasionally do experiments. Would that
annoy you?”

“ By no means.”

‘Let me see—what are my other shortcomings? 1
get in the dumps at times, and don’t open my mouth
for days on end. You must not think I am sulky when
I do that. Just let me alone, and I'll soon be all right.
What have you to confess, now? It’s just as well for
two fellows to know the worst of each other before they
begin to live together.”

I laughed at this cross-examination.

“TI keep a bull-pup,” I said, “and object to rows, be-
cause my nerves are shaken, and I get up at all sorts of
ungodly hours, and I am extremely lazy. I have an-
other set of vices when I’m well, but those are the prin-
cipal ones at present.”

A STUDY IN SCARLET. 15

“Do you include violin-playing in your category of
rows ?” he asked, anxiously.

“Tt depends on the player,” I answered. “A well-
played violin is a treat for the gods; a badly played
one—”

“Oh, that’s all right,” he cried, with a merry laugh.
**T think we may consider the thing as séttled—that is,
if the rooms are agreeable to you.”

“When shall we see them?”

“Call for me here at noon to-morrow, and we'll go
together and settle everything,” he answered.

“ All right—noon exactly,” said I, shaking his hand.

We left him working among his chemicals, and we
walked together toward my hotel.

“By the way,” I asked, suddenly, stopping and turn-
ing upon Stamford, “how the deuce did he know that
I had come from Afghanistan?”

My companion smiled an enigmatical smile,

“That’s just his little peculiarity,” he said. “A good
many people have wanted to know how he finds things
out.”

“Oh, a mystery, is it ?” I cried, rubbing my hands.
“This is very piquant. I am much obliged to you for
bringing us together. ‘The proper study of mankind
is man,’ you know.”

“You must study him, then,” Stamford said, as he
bid me good-by. “You'll find him a knotty problem,
though. I'll wager he learns more about you than you
about him. Good-by.”

“ Good-by,” I answered ; and strolled on to my hotel,
considerably interested in my new acquaintance.

CHAPTER Ii.
THE SCIENCE OF DEDUCTION.

WE met next day, as he had arranged, and inspected
the rooms at No. 2218 Baker street, of which he had
spoken at our meeting. They consisted of a couple of
comfortable bedrooms and a single, large, airy sitting-
room, cheerfully furnished, and illuminated by two
broad windows. So desirable in every way were the
apartments, and so moderate did the terms seem when
divided between us, that the bargain was concluded upon
the spot, and we at once entered into possession. That
very evening I moved my things round from the hotel,
and on the following morning Sherlock Holmes followed
me with several boxes and portmanteaus. For a day or
two we were busily employed in unpacking and laying
out our property to the best advantage. That done, we
gradually began to settle down and to accommodate
ourselves to our new surroundings. -

Holmes was certainly not a difficult man to live with.
He was quiet in his ways, and his habits were regular.
It was rare for him to be up after ten at night, and he
had invariably breakfasted and gone out before I rose in
the morning. Sometimes he spent his day at the chem-
ical laboratory, sometimes in the dissecting-room, and
occasionally in long walks, which appeared to take him

16

A STUDY IN SCARLET. y

into the lowest portions of the city. Nothing could ex-
ceed his energy when the working fit was upon him;
but now and again a reaction would seize him, and for
days on end he would lie upon the sofa in the sitting-
room, hardly uttering a word or moving a muscle from
morning to night. On these occasions I have noticea
such a dreamy, vacant expression in His eyes, that I
might have suspected him of being addicted to the use
of some narcotic, had not the temperance and cleanli-
ness of his whole life forbidden such a notion.

As the weeks went by, my interest in him and my
curiosity as to his aims in life gradually deepened and
increased. His very person and appearance were such
as to strike the attention of the most casual observer.
In height he was rather over six feet, and so excessively
lean that he seemed to be considerably taller. His eyes
were sharp and piercing, save during those intervals of
torpor to which I have alluded; and his thin, hawk-like
nose gave his whole expression an air of alertness and
decision. His chin, too, had the prominence and
squareness which mark the man of determination. His
hands were invariably blotted with ink and stained with
chemicals, yet he was possessed of extraordinary delicacy
of touch, as I frequently had occasion to observe when
I watched him manipulating his fragile philosophical
instruments.

The reader may set me down as a hopeless busybody,
when I confess how much this man stimulated my
curiosity, and how often I endeavored to break through
the reticence which he showed on all that concerned

himself. Before pronouncing judgment, however, be it

18 A STUDY IN SCARLET.

remembered how objectless was my life, and how little
there was to engage my attention. My health forbade
me from venturing out unless the weather was exception-
ally genial, and I had no friends who would call upon
me and break the monotony of my daily existence,
Under these circumstances, I eagerly hailed the little
mystery which hung around my companion, and spent
much of my time in endeavoring to unravel it.

He was not studying medicine. He had himself, in
reply to a question, confirmed Stamford’s opinion upon
that point. Neither did he appear to have pursued any
course of reading which might fit him for a degree in
science or any other recognized portal which would give
him an entrance into the learned world. Yet his zeal
for certain studies was remarkable, and within eccentric
limits his knowledge was so extraordinarily ample and
minute that his observations have fairly astounded me.
Surely no man would work so hard to attain such pre-
cise information unless he had some definite end in view. .
Desultory readers are seldom remarkable for the exact-
ness of their learning. No man burdens his mind with
small matters unless he has some very good reason for
doing so.

His ignorance was as remarkable as his knowledge.
Of contemporary literature, philosophy, and politics he
appeared to know next to nothing. Upon my quoting
Thomas Carlyle, he inquired in the naivest way who he
might be and what he had done. My surprise reached
a climax, however, when I found incidentally that he
was ignorant of the Copernican theory and of the com- .
position of the solar system. That any civilized human

A STUDY IN SCARLET, 19

being in this nineteenth century should not be aware
that the earth trdveled round the sun appeared to be to
me such an extraordinary fact that I could hardly real-
ize it.

“You appear to be astonished,” he said, smiling at
my expression of surprise. “‘ Now that I do know it, I
shall do my best to forget it.”

“To forget it!”

“You see,” he explained, “I consider that a man’s
brain originally is like a little empty attic, and you have
to stock it with such furniture as you choose. A fool
takes in all the lumber of every sort that he comes
across, so that the knowledge which might be useful to
him gets crowded out, or at best is jumbled up with a
lot of other things, so that he has a difficulty in laying his
hands upon it. Now the skillful workman is very care-
ful indeed as to what he takes into his brain-attic. He
will have nothing but the tools which may help him in
doing his work, but of these he has a large assortment,
and all in the most perfect order. It is a mistake to
think that that little room has elastic walls and can dis-
tend to any extent. Depend upon it, there comes a
time when for every addition of knowledge you forget
something that you knew before. It is of the highest
importance, therefore, not to have useless facts elbowing
out the useful ones.”

“But the solar system!” I protested.

“What the deuce is it to me?” he interrupted, impa-
tiently; “you say that we go round the sun. If we
went round the moon, it would not make a pennyworth
of difference to me or to my work.”

30 A STUDY IN SCARLET.

I was on the point of asking him what that work
might be, but something in his manner showed me that
the question would be an unwelcome one. I pondered
over our short conversation, however, and endeavored
to draw my deductions from it. He said that he would
aequire no Lnowledge which did not bear upon his ob-
ject. Therefore, all the knowledge which he possessed
was such a3 would be useful to him. I enumerated in
my own mind all the various points upon which he had
shown me that he was exceptionally well informed. I
even took a pencil and jotted them down. I could not
help smiling at the document when I had completed it.
It ran in this way:

SHERLOCK Ho_mMEs—his limits.
ie eno eae of Literature.—Nil.

2. “ Philosophy.—Nil.

3 i “ Astronomy.—Nil.

4. * ** Politics.—Feeble.

5 * “ Botany.—Variable. Well up m
belladonna, opium, and poisons
generally. Knows nothing of
practical gardening.

&, ” * Geology.—Practical, but limited.

Tells at a glance different soils
from each other. After walks
has shown me splashes upon his
trousers, and told me by their
color and consistence in what
part of London he had received
them,

4 STUDY IN SCARLET. 31

7. Knowledge of Chemistry.—Profound.

8. * “ Anatomy.—<Accurate, but unsys:
tematic.
>. we “ Sensational Literature —Immense.

He appears to know every de.
tail of every horror perpetrated
in the century.
to. Plays the violin well.
11. Is an expert single-stick player, boxer, and swords.
man.
12. Has a good practical knowledge of British law.

When I had got so far in my list I threw it into the
fire in despair.

“Tf I cannot find what the fellow is driving at by
reconciling all these accomplishments, and discovering
a calling which needs them all,” I said to myself, “1
may as well give up the attempt at once.”

I see that I have alluded above to his powers upon
the violin. These were very remarkable, but as eccentric
as all his other accomplishments. That he could play
pieces, and difficult pieces, I knew well, because at my
request he has played me some of Mendelssohn’s Lieder,
and other favorites. When left to himself, however, he
would seldom produce any music or attempt any recog-
nized air.

_ Leaning back in his arm-chair of an evening he would
Close his eyes and scrape carelessly at the fiddle, which
was thrown across his knee. Sometimes the chords were
sonorous and melancholy. Occasionally they were fan-
tastic and cheerful. Clearly they reflected the thoughts

22 A STUDY IN SCARLET.

which possessed him, but whether the music aided these
thoughts, or whether the playing was simply the result
of a whim or fancy, was more than I could determine.
I might have rebelled against these exasperating solos
had it not been that he usually terminated them by
playing in quick succession a whole series of my favorite
airs as a slight compensation for the trial upon my
patience.

During the first week or so we had no callers, and I
had@ébegun to think that my companion was as friendless
a man as I was myself. Presently, however, I found
that he had many acquaintances, and those in the most
different classes of society. There was o: e little sallow,
rat-faced, dark-eyed fellow who was ir .oduced to me
as Mr. Lestrade, and who came three or four times in a
single week. One morning a young girl called, fashion-
ably dressed, and stayed for half an hour or more. The
same afternoon brought a gray-headed, seedy visitor,
looking like a Jew peddler, who appeared to me te be
much excited, and who was closely followed by a slip-
shod elderly woman. On another occasion an old white-
haired gentleman had an interview with my companion;
and on another, a railway porter in his velveteen uni-
form. When any of these nondescript individuals put
in an appearance, Sherlock Holmes used to beg for the
use of the sitting-room, and I would retire to my bed-
room. He always apologized to me for putting me to
this inconvenience. |

“T have to use this room as a place of business,” he
said, “and these people are my clients.”

Again I had an opportunity of asking him a point-

A STUDY IN SCARLET. 23

blank question, and again my delicacy prevented me
from forcing another man to confide in me. I imagined
at the time that he had some strong reason for not al-
luding to it, but he soon dispelled the idea by coming
round to the subject of his own accord.

It was upon the 4th of March, as I have good reason
to remember, that I rose somewhat earlier than usual,
and found that Sherlock Holmes had not yet finished
his breakfast. The landlady had become so accustomed
to my late habits that my place had not been laid nor
my coffee prepared. With the unreasonable petulance
of mankind I rang the bell and gave a curt intimation
that I was ready. Then I picked up a magazine from
the table and .,ttempted to while away the time with it,
while my companion munched silently at his toast. One
of the articles had a pencil-mark at the heading, and I
naturally began to run my eye through it.

Its somewhat ambitious title was ‘‘ The Book of Life,”
and it attempted to show how much an observant man
might learn by an accurate and systematic examination
of all that came in his way. It struck me as being a
remarkable mixture of shrewdness and of absurdity. The
reasoning was close and intense, but the deductions ap-
peared to me to be far-fetched and exaggerated. The
writer claimed by a momentary expression, a twitch of
a muscle, or a glance of an eye, to fathom a man’s in-
most thoughts. Deceit, according to him, was an im-
possibility in the case of one trained to observation and
analysis. His conclusions were as infallible as so many
propositions of Euclid. So startling would his results
appear to the uninitiated that, until they learned the

24 4 STUDY IN SCARLET,

!

processes by which he had arrived at them, they might
well consider him as a necromancer.

“From a drop of water,” said the writer, “a logician
could infer the possibility of an Atlantic or a Niagara
without having seen or heard of one or the other. So
all life is a great chain, the nature of which is known
whenever we are shown a single link of it. Like all
other arts, the Science of Deduction and Analysis is one
which can only be acquired by long and patient study,
nor is life long enough to allow any mortal to attain the
highest possible perfection init. Before turning to those
moral and mental aspects of the matter which present
the greatest difficulties, let the inquirer begin by master-
ing more elementary problems. Let him, on meeting a
fellow-mortal, learn at a glance to distinguish the history
of the man, and the trade or profession to which he be-
longs. Puerile as such an exercise may seem, it sharpens
the faculties of observation and teaches one where to
look and what to look for. By a man’s finger-nails, by
his coat-sleeve, by his boot, by his trouser-knees, by the
callosities of his forefinger and thumb, by his expression,
by his shirt-cuffs—by each of these things a man’s call-
ing is plainly revealed. That all united should fail to
enlighten the competent inquirer in any case is almost
inconceivable.”

“What ineffable twaddle!” I cried, slapping the maga-
zine down on the table; “I never read such rubbish in
my life.”

“ What is it? ” asked Sherlock Holmes.

“Why, this article,” I said, pointing at it with my

A STUDY IN SCARLET. 25

egg-spoon as I sat down to my breakfast. “T see that
you have read it, since you have marked it. I don’t
deny that it is smartly written. It irritates me, though.
It is evidently the theory of some arm-chair lounger who
evolves all these neat little paradoxes in the seclusion of |
his own study. It is not practical. I should like to see
him clapped down in a third-class carriage on the Un-
derground, and asked to give the trades of all his fellow-
travelers. I would lay a thousand to one against him.”

“You would lose your money,” Sherlock Holmes re-
marked, calmly. ‘As for the article, I wrote it myself.”

‘6 You! ”

“Yes; I have a turn both for observation and for
deduction. The theories which I have expressed there,
and which appear to you to be so chimerical, are really
extremely practical—so practical that I depend upon
them for my bread and cheese.”

“ And how?” I asked, involuntarily.

“Well, I have a trade of my own. I suppose Iam
the only one in the world. [ma consulting detective,
if you can understand what that is. Here in London
we have lots of government detectives and lots of pri-
vate ones. When these fellows are at fault, they come
to me, and I manage to put them on the right scent.
They lay all the evidence before me, and I am generally
able, by the help of my knowledge of the history of
crime, to set them straight. There is a strong family
resemblance about misdeeds, and if you have all the de-
tails of a thousand at your finger-ends, it is odd if you
can’t unravel the thousand and first. Lestrade is a

26 A STUDY IN SCARLET,

well-known detective. He got himself into a fog re-
cently over a forgery case, and that was what brought
him here.”

“ And these other people ?”

“They are mostly sent out by private inquiry agen-
cies. They are all people who are in trouble about
something, and want a little enlightening. I listen to
their story, they listen to my comments, and then I
pocket my fee.”

“But do you mean to say,” I said, “that without
leaving your room you can unravel some knot which
other men can make nothing of, although they have
seen every detail for themselves? ”

“Quite so. I have a kind of intuition that way.
Now and again a case turns up which is a little more
complex. Then I have to bustle about and see things
with my own eyes. You see, I have a lot of special
knowledge which I apply to the problem, and which
facilitates matters wonderfully. Those rules of deduc-
_ tion laid down in that article which aroused your scorn
are invaluable to me in practical work. Observation,
with me, is second nature. You appeared to be sur-
prised when I told you, on our first meeting, that you
had come from Afghanistan.”

“You were told, no doubt.”

“Nothing of the sort. I 4mew you came from Af-
ghanistan. From long habit the train of thought ran so
swiftly through my mind that I arrived at the conclusion
without being conscious of intermediate steps. There
were such steps, however. The train of reasoning ran:
‘Here is a gentleman of a medical type, but with the

A STUDY IN StanLE£7Z, <7

air of a military man. Clearly an army doctor, then.
| He has just come from the tropics, for his face is dark,
and that is not the natural tint of his skin, for his wrists
are fair. He has undergone hardship and sickness, as
his haggard face says clearly. His left arm has been
injured. He holds it in a stiff and unnatural manner.
Where in the tropics could an English army doctor have
seen much hardship and got his arm wounded? Clearly
in Afghanistan.’ The whole train of thought did not
occupy a second. I then remarked that you came from
Afghanistan, and you were astonished.”

“It is simple enough as you explain it,” I said, smil-
ing. “You remind me of Edgar Allan Poe’s Dupin. I
had no idea that such individuals did exist outside of
stories.”

Sherlock Holmes rose and lighted his pipe.

“No doubt you think that you are complimenting me
in comparing me to Dupin,” he observed. “ Now, in
my opinion, Dupin was a very inferior fellow. That
trick of his of breaking in on his friends’ thoughts with
an apropos remark after a quarter of an hour’s silence
is really very showy and superficial He had some
analytical genius, no doubt; but he was by no means
such a phenomenon as Poe appeared to imagine.”

“ Have you read Gaboriau’s works?” I asked. ‘‘ Does
Lecog come up to your idea of a detective?”

Sherlock Holmes sniffed sardonically.

“Lecoq was a miserable bungler,” he said, in an an-
gry voice; “he had only one thing to recommend him,
and that was his energy. That book made me posi-
tively ill. The question was how to identify an unknown

28 4 STUDY IN SCARLET.

prisoner. I could have done it in twenty-four hours
Lecog took six months orso. It might be made a text
book for detectives to teach them what to avoid.”

I felt rather indignant at having two characters whom
I had admired treated in this cavalier style. I walked
over to the window, and stood looking out into the
busy street.

“This fellow may be very clever,” I said to myself,
“but he is certainly very conceited.”

“There are no crimes and no criminals in these days,”
he said, querulously. ‘‘ What is the use of having brains
in our profession? I know well that I have it in me
to make my name famous. No man lives or has ever
lived who has brought the same amount of study and of
natural talent to the detection of crime which I have
done. And what is the result? There is no crime to
detect, or, at most, some bungling villainy with a motive
so transparent that even a Scotland Yard official can see
through it.”

I was still annoyed at his bumptious style of conver-
sation. I thought it best to change the topic.

“T wonder what that fellow is looking for?” I asked,
pointing to a stalwart, plainly dressed individual who
was walking slowly down the other side of the street,
looking anxiously at the numbers. He had a large blue
envelope in his hand, and was evidently the bearer of a
message.

“You mean the retired sergeant of marines,” said
Sherlock Holmes. ;

“Brag and bounce!” thought I to myself. “He
knows that I cannot verify his guess.”

A STUDY IN SCARLET. 29

The thought had hardly passed through my mind
when the man whom we were watching caught sight of
the number on our door, and ran rapidly across the road-
way. We heard a loud knock, a deep voice below, and
heavy steps ascending the stair.

“For Mr. Sherlock Holmes,” he said, stepping into
the room and handing my friend the letter.

Here was an opportunity of taking the conceit out of
him. He little thought of this when he made that ran-
dom shot.

“May I ask, my lad,” I said, blandly, “what your
trade may be?”

“Commissionaire, sir,” he said, gruffly. ‘“ Uniform
away for repairs.”

“And you were?” I asked. with a slightly malicious
glance at my companion.

“A sergeant, sir; Royal Marine Light Infantry, sir.
No answer? Right, sir.”

He clicked his heels together, raised his hand in a
salute, and was gone.

CHAPTER III.
THE LAURISTON GARDENS MYSTERY.

I conress that I was considerably startled by this
fresh proof of the practical nature of my companion’s
theories. My respect for his powers of analysis increased
wondrously. There still remained some lurking suspi-
cion in my mind, however, that the whole thing was
a prearranged episode, intended to dazzle me, though
what earthly object he could have in taking me in was
past my comprehension. When I looked at him he had
finished reading the note, and his eyes had assumed the
vacant, lack-luster expression which showed mental ab-
straction.

“ How in the world did you deduce that ?” I asked.

“Deduce what?” said he, petulantly.

“Why, that he was a retired sergeant of marines.”

“T have no time for trifles,’’ he replied, brusquely ;
then, with a smile, “Excuse my rudeness. You broke
the thread of my thoughts; but perhaps it is as well.
So you actually were not able to see that that man was
a sergeant of marines?”

“No, indeed.”

“It was easier to know it than to explain why I know |
it. If you were asked to prove that two and two made
four, you might find some difficulty, and yet you are -

3°

4 STUDY IN SCARLET, | 3?

quite sure of the fact. Even across the street I could
see a great blue anchor tattooed on the back of the
fellow’s hand. That smacked of the sea. He had a
military carriage, however, and regulation side-whiskers.
There we have the marine. He was a man with some
amount of self-importance and a certain air of com-
mand. You must have observed the way in which he
held his head and swung his cane. A steady, respecta-
ble, middle-aged man, too, on the face of him—all facts
which led me to believe that he had been a sergeant.”

“Wonderful!” I ejaculated.

“Commonplace,” said Holmes, though I thought
from his expression that he was pleased at my evident
surprise and admiration. “I said just now that there
were no criminals. It appears that I am wrong—look
at this!” He threw me over the note which the com-
missionaire had brought.

“Why,” I cried, as I cast my eye over it, “this is
terrible! ”

“Tt does seem to be a little out of the common,” he
remarked, calmly. ‘“ Would you mind reading it to me
aloud?”

This is the letter which I read to him:

“My DEAR MR. SHERLOCK Hotes: There has been
a bad business during the night at 3 Lauriston Gardens,
off the Brixton Road. Our man on the beat saw a light
there about two in the morning, and as the house was
an empty one, suspected that something was amiss. He
_ found the door open, and in the front room, which is
bare of furniture, discovered the body of a gentleman,

32 A STUDY IN SCAKLET.

well dressed, and having cards in his pocket bearing the
name of ‘Enoch J. Drebber, Cleveland, Ohio, U. S. A.
There had been no robbery, nor is there any evidence
as to how the man met his death. There are marks
ef blood in the room, but there is no wound upon his
person. We are at a loss as to how he came into the
empty house; indeed, the whole affair is a puzzler. If
you can come round to the house any time before twelve,
you will find me there. I have left everything 77 statu
guo until I hear from you. If you are unable to come I
shall give you fuller details, and would esteem it a great
kindness if you would favor me with your opinion.
“Yours faithfully,
“ToBias GREGSON.”

“Gregson is the smartest of the Scotland Yarders,”
my friend remarked; “he and Lestrade are the pick of —
a bad lot. They are both quick and energetic, but con-
ventional—shockingly so. They have their knives into
each other, too. They are as jealous as a pair of pro-
fessional beauties. There will be some fun over this
case if they are both put upon the scent.”

I was amazed at the calm way in which he rippled on.

“‘Surely there is not a moment to be lost,” I cried;
“shall I go and order you a cab?”

“T am not sure about whether I shall go. I am the
most incurably lazy devil that ever stood in shoe-leather
—that is, when the fit is on me, for I can be spry enough
at times.”

“Why, it is just such a chance as you have been long:

ing for.”

A STUDY IN SCARLLT. 33

“Mv dear fellow, what does it matter tome? Sup-
posing I unravel the whole matter, you may be sure
that Gregson, Lestrade & Co. will pocket all the credit.
That comes of being an unofficial personage.”

“ But he begs you to help him.”

“Yes. He knows that I am his superior, and ac-
knowledges it to me; but he would cut: his tongue out
before he would own it to any third person. However,
we may as well go and have a look. I shall work it
fut on my own hook. — I may have a laugh at them, if
[ have nothing else. Come on!”

He hustled on his overcoat, and bustled about in a
way that showed that an energetic fit had superseded
the apathetic one.

“ Get your hat,” he said.

“You wish me to come?”

“Yes, if you have nothing better to do.”

A minute later we were both in a hansom, driving
furiously for the Brixton Road.

It was a foggy, cloudy morning, and a dun-colored
veil hung over the house-tops, looking like the reflection
of the mud-colored streets beneath. My companion
was in the best of spirits, and prattled away about Cre-
mona fiddles, and the difference between a Stradivarius
and an Amati. As for myself, I was silent, for the dull
weather and the melancholy business upon which we
were engaged depressed my spirits.

“You don’t seem to give much thought to the matter
in hand,” I said, at last, interrupting Holmes’s musical
disquisition.

“No data yet,” he answered. “It is a capita: mis-

&-
34 A STUDY IN SCARLET.

take to theorize before you have all the evidence. BR
biases the judgment.”

“You will have your data soon,” I remarked, point-
ing with my finger; “ this is the Brixton Road, and that
is the house, if I am not very much mistaken.” _

“So it is. Stop, driver, stop!” We were still a hun-
dred yards or so from it, but he insisted upon our alight-
ing, and we finished our journey upon foot.

No. 3 Lauriston Gardens wore an ill-omened and
minatory look. It was one of four which stood back
some little way from the street, two being occupied and
two empty. ‘The latter looked out with three tiers of
vacant, melancholy windows, which were blank and
dreary, save that here and there a “ To Let” card had
developed like a cataract upon the bleared panes. A
small garden sprinkled over with a scattered eruption
of sickly plants separated each of these houses from the
street, and was traversed by a narrow pathway, yellow-
ish in color, and consisting apparently of a mixture of
clay and gravel. The whole place was very sloppy from
the rain which had fallen through the night. The
garden was bounded by a three-foot brick wall with a
fringe of wood rails upon the top, and against this wall
was leaning a stalwart police constable, surrounded by
a small knot of loafers, who craned their necks and
strained their eyes in the vain hope of catching some
glimpse of the proceedings within.

I nad imagined that Sherlock Holmes would at once
have hurried into the house and plunged into a study of
the mystery. Nothing appeared to be further from his
intention. With an air of nonchalance which, under the

a STUDY IN SCARLET. 33

circumstances, seemed to me to border upon affecta-
tion, he lounged up and down the pavement, and gazed
vacantly at the ground, the sky, the opposite houses,
and the line of railings. Having finished his scrutiny, he
proceeded slowly down the path, or, rather, down the
fringe of grass which flanked the path, keeping his eyes
riveted upon the ground. Twice he stopped, and once
I saw him smile and heard him utter an exclamation of
satisfaction. ‘There were many marks of footsteps upon
the wet, clayey soil, but since the police had been com-
ing and going over it I was unable to see how my com-
panion could hope to learn anything from it. Still, I
had had such extraordinary evidence of the quickness
of his perceptive faculties that I had no doubt that he
could see a great deal which was hidden from me.

At the door of the house we were met by a tall, white-
faced, flaxen-haired man, with a note-book in his hand,
who rushed forward and wrung my companion’s hand
with effusion. )

“It is indeed kind of you to come,” he said; “I have
had everything left untouched.”

“Except that!” my friend answered, pointing to the
pathway. “If a herd of buffaloes had passed along
there could not be a greater mess. No doubt, however,
you had drawn your own conclusions, Gregson, before
you permitted this.”

“T have had so much to do inside the house,” the

detective said, evasively. “ Mycolleague, Mr. Lestrade, _

is here. I had relied upon him to look after this.”
Holmes glanced at me, and raised his eyebrows sar-
donically.

qe:

36 A STUDY ZV SCARLET.

“With two such men as yourself and Lestrade upon
the ground, there will not be much for a third party te
find out,” he said.

Gregson rubbed his hands in a self-satisfied way.

“I think we have done all that can be done,” he
answered ; “‘it’s a queer case, though, and I knew your
taste for such things.”

“You did not come here in a cab?” asked Sherlock
Holmes.

“No, sir.”

“Nor Lestrade?”

“No, sir.”

“Then let us go and look at the room.”

With which inconsequent remark he strode on into
the house, followed by Gregson, whose features expressed
his astonishment. ;

A short passage, bare planked and dusty, led to the
kitchen and offices. ‘Two doors opened out of it to the
left and to the right. One of these had obviously been
closed for many weeks. The other belonged to the din-
ing-room, which was the apartment in which the mysteri-
ous affair had occurred. Holmes walked in, and I fol-
lowed him with that subdued fecling at my heart which
the presence of death inspires.

It was a large, square room, looking all the larger
for the absence of all furniture. A vulgar, flaring paper
adorned the walls, but it was blotched in places with
mildew, and here and there great strips had become
detached and hung down, exposing the yellow plaster —
beneath. Opposite the door was a showy fireplace,
surmounted by a mantel-piece of imitation white marble.

A STUDY IN SCARIET- Sd

On one corner of this was stuck the stump of a red wax-
‘candle. The solitary window was so dirty that the light
was hazy and uncertain, giving a dull-gray tinge to
everything, which was intensified by the thick layer of
dust which coated the whole apartment.

All these details I observed afterward. At present my
attention was centered upon the single grim, motionless
figure which lay stretched upon the boards, with vacant,
sightless eyes staring up at the discolored ceiling. It
was that of a man about@forty-three or forty-four years
of age, middle-sized, broad-shouldered, with crisp, curling
black hair, and a short, stubbly beard. He was dressed
in a heavy broadcloth frock-coat and waistcoat, with
light-colored trousers and immaculate collar and cuffs.
A top-hat, well brushed and trim, was placed upon the
floor beside him. His hands were clinched and his
arms thrown abroad, while his lower limbs were inter-
locked as though his death-struggle had been a grievous
one. On his rigid face there stood an expression of
horror and, as it seemed to me, of hatred, such as I
have never seen upon human features. This malignant
and terrible contortion, combined with the low forehead,
blunt nose, and prognathous jaw, gave the dead mana
singularly simious and ape-like appearance, which was
increased by his writhing, unnatural posture. I have
seen death in many forms, but never has it appeared to
me in a more fearsome aspect than in that dark, grimy
apartment, which looked out upon one of the main
arteries of suburban London. Lestrade, lean and ferret-
like as ever, was standing by the doorway, and greeted
‘1y companion and myself.

36 A STUDY IN SCARLET.

“This case will make a stir, sir,” he remarked. ‘It
beats anything I have seen, and I am no chicken.”

“There is no clew,” said Gregson.

“None at all,” chimed in Lestrade.

Sherlock Holmes approached the body, and, kneeling
down, examined it intently.

“You are sure that there is no wound?” he asked,
pointing to numerous gouts and splashes of blood which
lay all around.

“ Positive!’ cried both detectives.

“Then, of course, this blood belongs to a second in-
dividual—presumably the murderer, if murder has been
committed. It reminds me of the circumstances attend-
ant on the death of Van Jansen, in Utrecht, in the
year ’34. Do vou remember the case, Gregson?”

“No, sir.”

“Read it up—you really should. There is nothing
new under the sun. It has all been done before.”

As he spoke, his nimble fingers were flying here, there,
and everywhere, feeling, pressing, unbuttoning, examin-
ing, while his eyes wore the same far-away expression
which I have already remarked upon. So swiftly was
the examination made that one would hardly have
guessed the minuteness with which it was conducted.
Finally, he sniffed the dead man’s lips, and then glanced
at the soles of his patent-leather boots.

“He has not been moved at all?” he asked.

“No more than was necessary for the purpose of out
examination.”

“You can take him to the mortuary now,” he said.

‘There 4s nothing more to be learned.”

A STUDY IN SCARLET. 3

Gregson had a stretcher and four men at hand. At
his call they entered the room, and the stranger was lifted
and carried out. As they raised him, a ring tinkled
down and rolled across the floor. Lestrade grabbed it
up and stared at it with mystified eyes.

“There’s been a woman here,” he goer “It’s a
woman’s wedding-ring.”

He held it out, as he spoke, upon the palm of his
hand. We all gathered round him and gazed at it.
There could be no doubt that that circle of plain gold
had once adorned the finger of a bride.

“This complicates matters,” said Gregson. ‘“‘ Heaven
knows, they were complicated enough before!”

“You're sure it doesn’t simplify them?” observed
Holmes. ‘“There’s nothing to be learned by staring at
it. What did you find in his pockets?”

“We have it all here,” said Gregson, pointing to a
litter of objects upon one of the bottom steps of the
stairs. “A gold watch, No. 97,163, by Barraud, of Lon-
don. Gold Albert chain, very heavy and solid. Golc
ring, with Masonic device. Gold pin—bull-dog’s head,
with rubies as eyes. Russian-leather card-case, with
cards of Enoch J. Drebber, of Cleveland, corresponding
with the E. J. D. upon the linen. No purse, but loose
money to the extent of seven pounds thirteen. Pocket
edition of Boccaccio’s ‘ Decameron,’ with name of Joseph
Stangerson upon the fly-leaf. Two letters—one ad-
dressed to E. J. Drebber and one to Joseph Stangerson.”

“ At what address?”

“ American Exchange, Strand—to be left till called
for. They are both from the Guion Steamship Com-

40 A STUDY IN SCARLET.

pany, and refer to the sailing of their boats from Liver.
pool. It is clear that this unfortunate man was about
to. return to New York.”

“Have you made any inquiries as to this man
Stangerson?” :

“T did it at once, sir,” said Gregson. “I have had
advertisements sent to all the newspapers, and one of my
men has gone to the American Exchange, but he has
not returned yet.”

» “ Have you sent to Cleveland?”

“We telegraphed this morning.”

“How did you word your inquiries ?”

“We simply detailed the circumstances, and said that
we should be glad of any information which could help us.”

“You did not ask for particulars on any point which
appeared to you to be crucial?”

“I asked about Stangerson.”

“Nothing else? Is there no circumstance on which
this whole case appears to hinge? Will you not tele-
graph again?”

“T have said all I have to say,” said Gregson, in an
offended voice.

Sherlock Holmes chuckled to himself, and appeared
to be about to make some remark, when Lestrade, who
had been in the front room while we were holding this
conversation in the hall, reappeared upon the scene,
rubbing his hands in a pompous and self-satisfied manner.

“Mr. Gregson,” he said, “I have just made a dis-
covery of the highest importance, and one which would
have been overlooked had I not made a careful exami-
nation of the walls.”

A STUDY IN SCARLET. 41

The little man’s eyes sparkled as he spoke, and he
was evidently in a state of suppressed exultation at
having scored a point against his colleague,

“Come here,” he said, bustling back into the room,
_ the atmosphere of which felt cleaner since the removal
of its ghastly inmate. ‘“‘ Now, stand there!”

He struck a match on his boot and held it up against
the wall.

“Look at that!” he said, triumphantly.

I have remarked that the paper had fallen avvay in
parts. In this particular corner of the room a large
piece had peeled off, leaving a yellow square of coarse
plastering. Across this bare space there was scrawled
in blood-red letters a single word:

RACHE.

“What do you think of that?” cried the detective,
with the air of a showman exhibiting his show. ‘“ This
was overlooked because it was in the darkest corner of
the room, and no one thought of looking there. The
murderer has written it with his or her own blood. See
this smear where it has trickled down the wall! That
disposes of the idea of suicide, anyhow. Why was that
corner chosen to write it on? Iwill tell you. See that
candle on the mantel-piece. It was lighted at the time,
and if it was lighted this corner would be the brightest
instead of the darkest portion of the wall.”

“And what does it mean, now that you ave found
it?” asked Gregson, in a depreciatory voice.

“Mean? Why, it means that the writer was going

42 A STUDY IN SCARLET.

to put the female name Rachel, but was disturbed before _
he or she had time to finish. You mark my words,
when this case comes to be cleared up you will find
that a woman named Rachel has something to do with
it. It’s all very well for you to laugh, Mr. Sherlock ©
Holmes. You may be very smart and clever, but the
old hound is the best, when all is said and done.”

“T really beg your pardon!” said my companion,
who had ruffled the little man’s temper by bursting inte
an explosion of laughter. “You certainly have the
credit of being the first of us to find this out, and, as
you say, it bears every mark of having been written by
the other participant in last night’s mystery. I have not
had time to examine this room yet, but with your per-
mission I shall do so now.”

As he spoke, he whipped a tape-measure and a large,
round magnifying-glass from his pocket. With these
two implements he trotted noiselessly about the room,
sometimes stopping, occasionally kneeling, and once
lying flat upon his face. So engrossed was he with his
occupation that he appeared to have forgotten our pres-
ence, for he chattered away to himself under his breath
the whole time, keeping up a running fire of exclamations,
groans, whistles, and little cries suggestive of encourage- _
ment and of hope. As I watched him I was irresistibly
reminded of a pure-blocded, well-trained fox-hound as
it dashes backward and forward through the covert,
whining in its eagerness, until it comes across the lost —
scent. For twenty minutes or more he continued his
researches, measuring with the most exact care the dis-
tance between marks which were entirely invisible to me,

A STUDY IN SCARLET. 43

and occasionally applying his tape to the walls in an
equally incomprehensible manner. In one place he
gathered very carefully a little pile of gray dust from the
floor, and packed it away in an envelope. Finally he
examined with his glass the word upon the wall, going
_ over every letter of it with the most minute exactness.
This done, he appeared to be satisfied, for he replaced
his tape and his glass in his pocket. eee"

“They say that genius is an infinite capacity for tak-
ing pains,” he remarked, with a smile. “It’s a very bad
definition, but it does apply to detective work.”
' -Gregson and Lestrade had watched the maneuvers
of their amateur companion with considerable curiosity
and some contempt. They evidently failed to appreciate
the fact, which I had begun to realize, that Sherlock
Holmes’s smallest actions were all directed toward some
definite and practical end.

“What do you think of it, sir? ” they both asked.

“Tt would be robbing you of the credit of the case if
1 were to presume to help you,” remarked my friend.
“You are doing so well now that it would be a pity for
any one to interfere.” ‘There was a world of sarcasm in
his voice as he spoke. “If you will let me know how
your investigations go,” he continued, “I shall be happy
to give youany help Ican. Inthe meantime, I should
like to speak to the constable who found the body. Can
you give me his name and address?”

Lestrade glanced at his note-book.

“John Rance,” he said. “ He’s off duty now. You
will find him at 46 Audley Court, Kennington Park
Gate.” Holmes took a note of the address,

44 4A STULBY IN SCARLET.

“Come along, doctor,” he said; “we shall go and
look him up. I'll tell you one thing which may help you
in the case,” he continued, turning to the two detectives.
“There has been murder done, and the murderer was
aman. He was more than six feet high, was in the
prime of life, had small feet for his height, wore coarse,
square-toed boots, and smoked a Trichinopoly cigar. -
He came here with his victim in a four-wheeled cab,
which was drawn by a horse with three old shoes and
one new one on his off fore-leg. In all probability the
murderer had a florid face, and the finger-nails of his
right hand were remarkably long. These are only a few
indications, but they may assist you.”

Lestrade and Gregson glanced at each other with an
incredulous smile.

“Tf this man was murdered, how was it done?” asked
the former.

“Poison,” said Sherlock Holmes, curtly, and strode
off. “One other thing, Lestrade,” he added, turning
round at the door: ‘’‘ Rache’ is the German for ‘re-
venge’; so don’t lose your time looking for Miss
Rachel.”

With which Parthian shot he walked away, leaving
the two rivals open-mouthed behind him,

CHAPTER IV.
WHAT JOHN RANCE HAD TO TELL

It was one o'clock when we left No. 3 Lauriston
Gardens. Sherlock Holmes led me to the nearest tel-
egraph office, whence he dispatched a long telegram.
He then hailed a cab, and ordered the driver to take us
to the address given us by Lestrade.

“There is nothing like first-hand evidence,” he re-
marked ; “as a matter of fact, my mind is entirely made
up upon the case, but still we may as well learn all that
is to be learned.”

“You amaze me, Holmes,” said I. “Surely you are
not as sure as you pretend to be of all those particulars
which you gave.”

“There’s no room for a mistake,” he answered.
“The very first thing which I observed on arriving
there was that a cab had made two ruts with its wheels
close to the curb. Now, up to last night, we have had
no rain for a week, so that those wheels, which left such
a deep impression, must have been there during the
night. There were the marks of a horse’s hoofs, too,
the outline of one of which was far more clearly cut than
that of the other three, showing that that was a new
shoe. Since the cab was there after the rain began, and
was not there at any time during the morning—I have

45

40° A STUDY IN SCARLET.

Gregson’s word for that—it follows that it must have
been there during the night, and, therefore, that it
brought those two individuals to the house.”

“That seems simple enough,” said I; “‘ but how about
the other man’s height? ”

“Why, the height of a man, in nine cases out of ten,
can be told from the length of his stride. It is a simple
calculation enough, though there is no use my boring
you with figures. I had this fellow’s stride, both on the »
clay outside and on the dust within. Then I had a.
way of checking my calculation. When a man writes
on a wall, his instinct leads him to write about the level
of his own eyes. Now, that writing was just over six
feet from the ground. It was child’s play.” _

“‘And his age?” I asked.

“Well, if a man can stride four and a half feet with.
out the smallest effort, he can’t be quite in the sere and
yellow. That was the breadth of a puddle on the
garden-walk which he had evidently walked across.
Patent-leather boots had gone round and Square-toes
had hopped over. ‘There is no mystery about it at all.
I am simply applying to ordinary life a few of those
precepts of observation and deduction which I advo-
cated in thatarticle. Is there anything else that puzzles
your”

“The finger-nails and the Trichinopoly,” I suggested.

“The writing on the wall was done with a man’s fore-
finger dipped in blood. My glass allowed me to observe
that the plaster was slightly scratched in doing it, which
would not have been the case if the man’s nail had been
trimmed. J gathered up some scattered ash from the

A STUDY IN SCARLET. a7

floor. It was dark in color and flaky—such an ash as
- is only made by a Trichinopoly. I have made a spe-
cial study of cigar-ashes—in fact, I have written a mon-
ograph upon the subject. I flatter myself that I can
distinguish at a glance the ash of any known brand
either of cigar or of tobacco. It is just in such details
that the skilled detective differs from the Gregson and
Lestrade type.”

“ And the florid face?” I asked.

“ Ah, that was a more daring shot, though I have no
doubt that I was right. You must not ask me that at
the present state of the affair.”

I passed my hand over my brow.

“ My head is in a whirl,” I remarked; “the more one
thinks of it, the more mysterious it grows. How came
these two men—if there were two men—into an empty
house? What has become of the cabman who drove
them? Howcould one man compel another to take
poison? Where did the blood come from? What was
the object of the murderer, since robbery had no part in
it? How came the woman’s ring there? Above all,
why should the second man write up the German word
RACHE before decamping? I confess that I cannot see
any possible way of reconciling all these facts.”

My companion smiled approvingly.

“You sum up the difficulties of the situation succinctly
and well,” he said. ‘ There is much that is still obscure,
though I have quite made up my mind on the main
facts. As to poor Lestrade’s discovery, it was simply
a blind intended to put the police upon a wrong track,
by suggesting socialism and secret societies. It was not

48 A STUDY IN SCARLET.

dene bya German. The A, if you noticed, was printed
somewhat after the German fashion. Now a real Ger.
man invariably prints in the Latin character, so that we
may safely say that this was not written by one, but by
a clumsy imitator, who overdid his part. It was simply —
a ruse, to divert inquiry into a wrong channel. I’m not
going to tell you much more of the case, doctor. You
know a conjurer gets no credit when once he has ex.
plained his trick, and if I show you too much of my
method of working, you will come to the conclusion
that I am a very ordinary individual after all.”

“T shall never do that,” I answered; “you have
brought detection as near an exact science as it ever
will be brought in this world.”

My companion flushed up with pleasure at my wordg
and the earnest way in which I uttered them. I had
already observed that he was as sensitive to flattery on
the score of his art as any girl could be of her beauty.

“T'll tell you one other thing,” he said. “ Patent.
leathers and Square-toes came in the same cab, and
they walked down the pathway together as friendly ag
possible—arm ia arm, in all probability. When they
got inside they walked up and down the room—or,
tather, Patent-leathers stood still, while Square-toeg
walked up and down. I could read all that in the dust;
and I could read that, as he walked, he grew more and
more excited, That is shown by the increased length
of his strides. He was talking all the while, and work.
ing himself up, no doubt, into a fury. Then the tragedy
eccurred. I’ve told you all I know myself, now, for
the rest is mere surmise and conjecture. We have a

A STUDY IN SCARLET. 49

good working basis, however, on which to start. We
must hurry up, for I want to go to Halle’s concert, to
hear Norman Neruda, this afternoon.”

This conversation had occurred while our cab had
been threading its way through a long succession of
dingy streets and dreary by-ways. In the dingiest and
dreariest of them our driver suddenly came to a stand. |

“That’s Audley Court in there,” he said, pointing to a
narrow slit in the line of a dead-colored brick. ‘“ You'll
find me here when you come back.”

Audley Court was not an aitractive locality. The
narrow passage led us into a quadrangle paved with
flags and lined by sordid dwellings. We picked our
way among groups of dirty children and through lines
of discolored linen until we came to No. 46, the door of
which was decorated with a small slip of brass, on which
the name Rance was engraved. On inquiry we found
that the constable was in bed, and we were shown into
a little front parlor, to await his coming.

He appeared presently, looking a little irritable at
being disturbed in his slumbers.

“I made my report at the office,” he said.

Holmes took a half-sovereign from his pocket, and
played with it pensively.

“We thought that we should like to hear it all from
your own lips,” he said.

“T shall be most happy to tell you anything I can,”
the constable answered, with his eyes upon the little
golden disk.

“Just let me hear it all in your own way, as it oce
curred.”

:

50 A STUDY IN SCARLET.

Rance sat down on the horse-hair sofa and knittec
his brows, as though determined not to omit anything in
his narrative.

“T'll tell it ye from the beginning,” he said. “My
time is from ten at night to six in the morning. At
eleven there was a fight at the White Hart; but, bar
that, all was quiet enough on the beat. At one o’clock
it began to rain, and I met Harry Murcher—him who
has the Holland Grove beat—and we stood together at
the corner of Henrietta Street a-talkin’. Presently—
maybe about two, or a little after—I thought I weld
take a look round, and see that all was right down the
Brixtor Road. It was precious dirty and lonely. Not
asoul did I meet all the way down, though a cab or
two went past me. I was a-strollin’ down, thinkin’ be-
tween ourselves how uncommon handy a four of gin
hot would be, when suddenly a glint of a light caught my
eye in the window of that same house. Now, I knew
that them two houses in Lauriston Gardens was empty
on account of him that owns them, who won’t have the
drains seed to, though the very last tenant what lived
in one of them died o’ typhoid fever. I was knocked all
in a heap, therefore, at seeing a light in the window,
and I suspected as something was wrong. When I got
to the door—” :

“You stopped, and then walked back to the garden
gate,” my companion interrupted. “ What did you do
that for?” 7

Rance gave a violent jump, and stared at Sherlock
Holmes, with the utmost amazement upon his features.

“Why, that’s true, sir,” he said: “though how you

A STUDY IN SCARLET. sz

come to know it, Heaven only knows! Ye seq when
I got up to the door, it was so still and so lonesome that
[ thought I’d be none the worse for some one with me,
I ain’t afeard of anything on this side o’ the grave; but
I thought that maybe it was him that died o’ the typhoid
inspecting the drains what killed him. The thought
gave me a kind o’ turn, and I walked back to the gate
to see if I could see Murcher’s lantern, but there wasn’t
no sign of him nor of any one else.”

“There was no one in the street ?”

“ Not a livin’ soul, sir, nor as much as a dog. Then
I pulled myself together and went back and pushed
the door open. All was quiet inside, so I went into the
room where the light was a-burnin’. There was a can-
dle flickerin’ on the mantel-piece—a red wax one—and
by its light I saw—”

“Yes, I know all that you saw. You walked round
the room several times, and you knelt down by the body,
and then you walked through and tried the kitchen
door, and then—”

John Rance sprang to his feet with a frightened face
and suspicion in his eyes.

“Where was you hid to see all that? ’he cried. “It
seems to me that you knows a deal more than you
should.”

Holmes laughed, and threw his card across the table
to the constable.

“Don’t get arresting me for the murder,” he said.
“T am one of the hounds, and not the wolf; Mr. Greg-
son or Mr. Lestrade will answer for that. Go on,
though. What did you do next?”

52 A STUDY IN SCARLET.

Rance resumed his seat, without, however, losing his
mystified expression.

“I went back to the gate and sounded my whistle.
That brought Murcher and two more to the spot.”

“Was the street empty, then?”

“Well, it was, as far as anybody that could be of any
good goes.”

“What do you mean?”

The constable’s features broadened into a grin.

“T’ve seen many a drunk chap in my time,” he said,
“but never any one so cryin’ drunk as that cove. He
was at the gate when I came out, a-leanin’ up agin the
railin’s and a-singin’ at the pitch of his lungs about
Columbine’s New-fangled Banner, or some such stuff.
He couldn’t stand, far less help.”

“What sort of a man was he?” asked Sherlock
Holmes. °

John Rance appeared to be somewhat irritated at this
digression.

“He was an uncommon drunk sort o’ man,” he said.
“He'd ha’ found hisself in the station if we hadn’t been
so took up.”

“His face—his dress—didn’t you notice them?”
Holmes broke in impatiently.

“T should think I did notice them, seeing that I had
to prop him up—me and Murcher between us. He
was a long chap, with a red face, the lower part muffled
round—”

“That will do,” cried Holmes. ‘“ What became of

him? ”

“We'd enough to do without lookin’ after him,” the

A STUDY IN SCARLET. 58

policeman said, in an aggrieved voice. “I'll wager he
found his way home all nght.”

“ How was he dressed ? ”

“A brown overcoat.”

“Had he a whip in his hand?”

“A whip—no.”

“He must have left it behind,” muttered my com-
panion. “You didn’t happen to see or hear a cab
after that?”

‘é No.”

“There’s a half-sovereign for you,” my companion
said, standing up and taking his hat. “I am afraid,
Rance, that you will never rise in the force. That head
of yours should be for use as well as ornament. You
might have gained your sergeant’s stripes last night.
The man whom you held in your hands is the man who
holds the clue of this mystery, and whom we are seek-
ing. There is no use of arguing about it now; I tell
you that it isso. Come along, doctor.”

We started off for the cab together, leaving our in-
formant incredulous, but obviously uncomfortable.

“The blundering fool!” Holmes said, bitterly, as we
drove back to our lodgings. “ Just to think of his hav-
ing such an incomparable bit of good luck, and not tak-
ing advantage of it.”

“TI am rather in the dark still. It is true that the
description of this man tallies with your idea of the
second party in this mystery. But why should he come
back to the house after leaving it? This is not the
way of criminals.”

“The ring, man, the ring; that was what he came

54 A STUDY IN SCARLET,

back for. If we have no other way of catching him,
we can always bait our line with the ring. I shall have
him, doctor—I’ll lay you two to one that I have him.
I must thank you for it all. I might not have gone but
for you, and so have missed the finest study I ever came
across; a study in scarlet, eh? Why shouldn’t we use
alittle art jargon? ‘There’s the scarlet thread of murder
running through the colorless skein of life, and our duty
is to unravel it, and isolate it, and expose every inch of
it. And now for lunch, and then for Norman Neruda.
Her attack and her bowing are splendid. What’s that
little thing of Chopin’s she plays so magnificently: Tra-
la-la-lira-lira-lay.”

Leaning back in the cab, this amateur blood-hound
caroled away like a lark, while I meditated upon the
many-sidedness of the human mind.

CHAPTER V.
OUR ADVERTISEMENT BRINGS A VISITOR.

Our morning’s exertions had been too much tor my
weak health, and I was tired out in the afternoon.
After Holmes’s departure for the concert, I lay down
upon the sofa and endeavored to get a couple of hours’
sleep. It was a useless attempt. My mind had been too
much excited by all that had occurred, and the strangest
fancies and surmises crowded into it. Every time that
I closed my eyes I saw before me the distorted, baboon-
like countenance of the murdered man. So sinister
was the impression which that face produced upon me
that I found it difficult to feel anything but gratitude
for him who had removed its owner from the world. If
ever human features bespoke vice of the most malignant
type, they were certainly those of Enoch J. Drebber, of
Cleveland. Still, I recognized that justice must be done,
and that the depravity of the victim was no condone-
ment in the eyes of the law.

The more I thought of it the more extraordinary did
my companion’s hypothesis, that the man had been
poisoned, appear. I remember how he had sniffed his
lips, and had no doubt that he had detected something
which had given rise to the idea, Then, again, if not
poison, what had caused the man’s death, since there

55

56 A STUDY IN SCARLET.

was neither wound nor marks of strangulation? But,
on the other hand, whose blood was that which lay so
thickly upon the floor? There were no signs of a strug-
gle, nor had the victim any weapon with which he might
have wounded an antagonist. As long as all these ques-
tions were unsolved, I felt that sleep would be no easy
matter, either for Holmes or myself. His quiet, self-
confident manner convinced me that he had already
formed a theory which explained all the facts, though
what it was I could not for an instant conjecture.

He was very late in returning—so late that I knew
that the concert could not have detained him all the
time. Dinner was on the table before he appeared.

“Tt was magnificent,” he said, as he took his seat.
“Do you remember what Darwin says about music?
He claims that the power of producing and appreciating
it existed among the human race long before the power
of speech was arrived at. Perhaps that is why we are
so subtly influenced by it. There are vague memories
in our souls of those misty centuries when the world was
in its childhood.”

“That’s rather a broad idea,” I remarked.

“One’s idea must be as broad as Nature if they are
to interpret Nature,” he answered. ‘“What’s the matter ?
Yow’re not looking quite yourself. This Brixton Road
affair has upset you.”

“To tell the truth, it has,” I said. “I ought to be
more case-hardened after my Afghan experiences. I
saw my own comrades hacked to pieces at Maiwand
without losing my nerve.”

“IT can understand. There is a mystery about this

~

A STUDY IN SCARLET. 57

which stimulates the imagination; where there is no im-
agination there is no horror. Have you seen the evene

ing paper?”

‘ No.”

“Tt gives a fairly good account of the affair. It
does not mention the fact that when the man was raised
up a woman’s wedding-ring fell upon the floor. It is
just as well it does not.”

‘é Why?P »

“Took at this advertisement,” he answered. “I had
one sent to every paper this morning immediately after
the affair.”

He threw the paper across to me, and I glanced at
the place indicated. It was the first announcement in

_ the “ Found ” column.

“In Brixton Road,” it ran, “a plain gold wedding-

: ring, found in the roadway between the White Hart

Tavern and Holland Grove. Apply Dr. Watson, 221B
Baker Street, between eight and nine this evening.”

“Excuse my using your name,” he said. “If I used
my own some one of these dunderheads would recog-
nize it, and want to meddle in the affair.”

That is all right,” I answered. “ But supposing any
one applies, I have no ring.”

“Oh, yes, you have,” said he, handing me one.
“ This will do very well. It is almost a fac-simile.”

“ And who do you expect will answer this advertise-
ment?”

“Why, the man in the brown coat—our florid friend
with the square toes. If he does not come himself he
will send an accomplice.”

58 A STUDY IN SCARLED.

‘Would he not consider it as too dangerous?”

‘‘Not at all. If my view of the case is correct, and
I have every reason to believe that it is, this man would
rather risk anything than lose the ring. According to
my notion he dropped it while stooping over Drebber’s
body, and did not miss it at the time. After leaving
the house he discovered his loss, and hurried back, but
found the police already in possession, owing to his own
folly in leaving the candle burning. He had to pretend
te be drunk in order to allay the suspicions which might
have been aroused by his appearance at the gate. Now
put yourself in that man’s place. On thinking the
matter over, it must have occurred to him that it was
possible that he had lost the ring in the road after leav-
ing the house. What would he do then? He would
eagerly look out for the evening papers, in the hope of
secing it among the articles found. His eye, of course,
would light upon this. He would be overjoyed. Why
should he fear a trap? ‘There would be no reason in
his eyes why the finding of the ring should be connected
with the murder. He would come. He will come.
You shall see him within an hour.”

“ And then?” I asked.

“Oh, you can leave me to deal with him then. Have
you any arms?”

“T have my old service revolver and a few cartridges.”

“You had better clean it and load it. He will bea
desperate man, and though I shall take him unawares,
it is as well to be ready for anything.”

I went to my bedroom and followed his advice.
When I returned with the pistol the table had been

A STUDY IN SCARLET, 59

cleared, and Holmes was engaged in his favorite oc-
cupation of scraping upon his violin,

« The plot thickens,” he said, as I entered. “I have
just had an answer to my American telegram. My view
of the case is the correct one.”

“ And that is?” I asked, eagerly.

“My fiddle would be the better for new strings,” he
remarked. ‘Put your pistol in your pocket. When the
fellow comes, speak to him in an ordinary way. Leave
the rest to me. Don’t frighten him by looking at him
too hard.”

“Tt is eight o’clock now,” I said, glancing at my
watch.

“Ves. He will probably be here in a few minutes.
Open the door slightly. That will do. Now -put the
. key on the inside. Thank you! This is a queer old
book I picked up at a stall yesterday—‘ De Jure inter
Gentes ’—published in Latin at Liege in the Lowlands,
in 1€42. Charles’s head was still firm on his shoulders
when this little brown-backed volume was struck off.”

“Who is the printer ?”

* Philippe de Croy, whoever he may have been. On
the fly-leaf, in very faded ink, is written, ‘Ex libris
Guliolmi Whyte. I wonder who William Whyte was?
Some pragmatical seventeenth-century lawyer, I sup-
pese. His writing has a legal twist about it. Here
comes our man, I think.”

As he spoke there was a sharp ring at the bell.
Sherlock Holmes rose softly, and moved his chair in the
direction of the door. We heard the servant pass along
(ae hall, and the sharp click of the latch as she opened it.

és 4 STUDY IN SCARLET?

“Does Dr. Watson live here?” asked a clear but
rather harsh voice. We could not hear the servant's
reply, but the door closed, and some one began to
ascend the stairs. The footfall was an uncertain and
shuffling one. A look of surprise passed over the face
cf my companion as he listened to it. It came slowly
along the passage, and there was a feeble tap at the |
door.

“ Come in!” I cried.

At my summons, instead of .e man of violence
whom we expected, a very old and wrinkled woman
hobbled into the apartment. She appeared to be dazzled
by the sudden blaze of light, and, after dropping a
curtsey, she stood blinking at us with her bleared eyes
and fumbling in her pocket with nervous, shaky fingers.
I glanced at my companion, and his face had assumed
such a disconsolate expression that it was all I could do
to keep my countenance. The old crone drew out an -
evening paper, and pointed at our advertisement.

“Ti’s this as has brought me, good gentlemen,” she
said, dropping another curtsey; “a gold wedding-ring
in the Brixton Road. It belongs to my girl, Sally, as
was married only this time twelvemonth, which her
husband is steward aboard a Union boat, and what he’d
say if he come ’ome and found her without her ring is
more than I can think, he being short enough at the best
o’ times, but more especially when he has the drink. If
it please you, she went to the circus last night along
with—”

“Ys that her ring ?” I asked,

“The Lord be thanked!” cried the old woman.

A STUDY IN SCARLET. 61

“Sally will be a glad woman this night. That’s
the ring.’’

‘And what may your address be?’’ I inquired,
taking up a pencil.

‘‘13 Duncan Street, Houndsditch. A weary way
from here.’’

‘‘The Brixton Road does not lie between any cir-
cus and Houndsditch,’’ said Sherlock Holmes,
sharply.

‘‘The gentleman asked me for my address,’’ she
said. ‘‘Sally lives in lodgings at 3 Mayfield Place,
Peckham.”’

‘*And your name is—”’

‘“My name is Sawyer—hers is Dennis, which Tom
Dennis married her—and a smart, clean lad, too, as
long as he’s at sea, and no steward in the company
more thought of; but when on shore, what with the
women and what with liquor-shops—”’

‘“Here is your ring, Mrs. Sawyer,’’ I interrupted,
in obedience to a sign from my companion; ‘‘it
clearly belongs to your daughter, and I am glad to
be able to restore it to the rightful owner.’’

With many mumbled blessings and protestations
of gratitude, the old crone packed it away in her
pocket, and shuffled off down the stairs. Sherlock
Holmes sprang to his feet the moment she was gone
and rushed into his room. He returned in a few
seconds enveloped in an ulster and a cravat.

‘‘T’ll follow her,’’ he said, hurriedly; ‘‘she must
be an accomplice, and will lead me tohim. Wait
up for me,”’

62 A STUDY IN SCARLET.

The hall door had hardly slammed behind our
visitor before Holmes had descended the stair.
Looking through the window I could see her walk-
ing feebly along the other side, while her pursuer
dogged her some little distance behind.

‘‘Hither his whole theory is incorrect,’’ I thought
to myself, ‘‘or else he will be led now to the heart
of the mystery.”’

There was no need for him to ask me to wait up
for him, for I felt that sleep was impossible until I —
heard the result of his adventure.

It was close upon nine when he set out. I had no
idea how long he might be, but I sat stolidly puffing
at my pipe and skipping over the pages of Henri
Murger’s ‘‘Vie de Bohéme.’’ Ten o’clock passed,
and I heard the footsteps of the maids as they pat-
tered off to bed. Eleven, and the more stately tread
of the landlady passed by my door, bound for the ~
same destination. It was close upon twelve before I
heard the sharp sound of his latch key. The instant
he entered I saw by his face that he had not been
successful. Amusement and chagrin seemed to be
struggling for the mastery, until the former sudden-
ly carried the day, and he burst into a hearty
laugh.

‘‘I wouldn’t have the Scotland Yarders know it
for the world,’’ he cried, dropping into his chair;
‘IT have chaffed them so much that they would
never have let me hear the end of it. I can afford to
laugh, because I know that I will be even with
them in the long run.”’

A STUDY IN SCARLET. ‘ 63

‘(What is it, then?’’ I asked.

‘‘Oh, I don’t mind telling a story against myself.
That creature had gone a little way when she began
to limp and show every sign of being foot-sore.
Presently she came to a halt and hailed a four-
wheeler which was passing. I managed to be close
to her so as to hear the address, but-I need not have
been so anxious, for she sung it out loud enough to
be heard at the other side of the street, ‘Drive to 13
Duncan Street, Houndsditch,’ she cried. This be-
_ gins to look genuine, I thought, and having seen
her safely inside I perched myself behind. That’s
an art which every detective should be an expert at.
Well, away we rattled, and never drew rein until we
reached the street in question. I hopped off before
we came to the door, and strolled down the street
in an easy, lounging way. I saw the cab pull up.
The driver jumped down and I saw him open the
door and stand expectantly. Nothing came out,
though. When I reached him he was groping about
frantically in the empty cab, and giving vent to the
finest assorted collection of oaths that ever IJ listened
to. There was no sign or trace of his passenger,
and I fear it will be sometime before he gets his
fare. On inquiring at No. 13 I found that the house
belonged to a respectable paper-hanger named Kes-
wick, and that no one of the name either of Sawyer
or Dennis had ever been heard of there.’’

‘‘VYou don’t mea to say,’’ I cried, in amazement,
‘that that tottering, feeble old woman was able to

64 _ A STUDY IN SCARLET.

get out of the cab while it was in motion, without
either you or the driver seeing her?”’’

‘*Old woman be d——d!’’ said Sherlock Holmes,
sharply. ‘‘Wewere the old women to be so taken in.
It must have been a young man, and an active one,
too, besides being an incomparable actor. The get-
up was inimitable. He saw that he was followed,
no doubt, and used this means of giving me the slip.
It shows that the man we are after is not as lonely
as I imagited he was, but has friends who are ready
to risk something for him. Now, doctor, you are
looking done up. ‘Take my advice and turn in.’’

I was certainly feeling very weary, so I obeyed
his injunction. I left Holmes seated in front of the
smoldering fire, and long into the watches of the
night I heard the low, melancholy wailings of his
violin, and knew that he was still pondering over
the strange problem which he had set himself to un-
ravel,

CHAPTER VI.
TOBIAS GREGSON SHOWS WHAT HE CAN DO.

THE papers next day were full of the “Brixton Mys-
tery,” as they termed it. Each had a long account of
the affair, and some had leaders upon it in addition.
There was some information in them which was new to
me. I still retain in my scrap-book numerous clippings
and extracts bearing upon the case. Here is a conden-
sation of a few of them:

The “Daily Telegraph” remarked that in the history
of ‘crime there had seldom been a tragedy which pre-
sented stranger features. The German name of the
victim, the absence of all other motive, and the sinister
inscription on the wall, all pointed to its perpetration by
political refugees and revolutionists. The Socialists had
many branches in America, and the deceased had, no
doubt, infringed their unwritten laws and been traced
down by them. After alluding airily to the Vehmge-
richt, aqua tofana, Carbonari, the Marchioness de Brin-
villiers, the Darwinian theory, the principles of Malthus,
and the Ratcliff Highway murders, the article concluded
by admonishing the government and advocating a closer
watch over foreigners in England.

The “Standard” commented upon the fact that law-
less outrages of the sort usually occurred under a liberal
administration. They arose from the unsettling of the

65

66 4 STUDY iN SCARLET?P.

minds of the masses, and the consequent weakening of
all authority. The deceased was an American gentle-
man who had been residing for some weeks in the
metropolis. He had stayed at the boarding-house of
Mme. Charpentier, in Torquay Terrace, Camberwell.
He was accompanied in his travels by his private secre-
tary, Mr. Joseph Stangerson. The two bid adieu to
their landlady upon Tuesday, the 4th inst., and de-
parted to Euston Station with the avowed intention of
catching the Liverpool express. They were afterward
seen together on the platform. Nothing more is known
of them until Mr. Drebber’s body was, as recorded, dis-
covered in an empty house in the Brixton Road, many
miles from Euston. How he came there, or how hz
met his fate, are questions which are still involved in
mystery. Nothing is known of the whereabouts of
Stangerson. We are glad to learn that Mr. Lestrade
and Mr. Gregson, of Scotland Yard, are both engaged
upon the case, and it is confidently anticipated that these
well-known officers will speedily throw light upon the-

matter.

The Saily New ” observed that there was no
doubt as to the crime being a political one. The des-
potism and hatred of Liberalism which animated the
Continental governments had had the effect of driving
to our shores a number of men who might have made
excellent citizens were they not soured by the recollec-
tion of all that they had undergone. Among these men
there was a stringent code of honor, any infringement
of which was punished by death. Every effort shouid
‘be made to find the secretary, Stangerson, and to ax

A STUDY IN SCARLET. 67

certain some particulars of the habits of the deceased.
A great step had been gained by the discovery of the
address of the house at which he had boarded—a result
which was entirely due to the acuteness and energy of
Mr. Gregson, of Scotland Yard.

Sherlock Holmes and I read these notices over to-
gether at breakfast, and they appeared to afford him
considerable amusement.

“T told you that, whatever happened, Lestrade and
Gregson would be sure to score.”

“That depends on how it turns out.”

“Oh, bless you, it doesn’t matter in the least. If
the man is caught, it will be on account of their exer-
tions ; if he escapes, it will be 7 spzte of their exertions.
It’s heads I win and tails you lose. Whatever they do,
they will have followers. ‘Un sot trouve toujours un
plus sot qui l’admire’”

“What on earth is this? ” I cried, for at this moment
there came the pattering of many steps in the hall and
on the stairs, accompanied by audible expressions of
disgust upon the part of our landlady.

“It’s the Baker Street division of the detective police
force,” said my companion, gravely; and as he spoke
there rushed into the room half a dozen of the dirtiest
and most ragged street arabs that ever I clapped eyes
on.

“*Tention!” cried Holmes, in a sharp tone, and the
six dirty little scoundrels stood in a line like so many
disreputable statuettes. “In future you shall send up
Wiggins alone to report, and the rest of you must wait
in the street. Have you found it, Wiggins? ”

68 A STUDY IN SCARLET,

“No, sir, we hain’t,” said one of the youths.

“T hardly expected you would. You must keep on
until you do. Here are your wages.” He handed
each of them a shilling. ‘‘ Now, off you go, and come
back with a better report next time.”

He waved his hand, and they scampered away down-
stairs like so many rats, and we heard their shrill voices
next moment in the street.

“There’s more work to be got out of one of those
little beggars than out of a dozen of the force,” Holmes
remarked. ‘‘The mere sight of an official-looking per-
son seals men’s lips. ‘These youngsters, however, go
everywhere and hear everything. They are as sharp
as needles, too; all they want is organization.”

“Ts it on this Brixton case that you are employing
them?” I asked.

“Yes; there is a point which I wish to ascertain. It
is merelpa matter of time. Halloo! we are going to
hear some news now with a vengeance! Here is
Gregson coming down the road with beatitude written
upon every feature of his face. Bound for us, I know.
Yes, he is stopping. ‘There he is!”

There was a violent peal at the bell, and in a
few seconds the fair-haired detective came up the
stairs, three steps at a time, and burst into our sitting-
room.

“My dear fellow,” he cried, wringing Holmes’s unre-
sponsive hand, “congratulate me! I have made the
whole thing as clear as day.” :

A shade of anxiety seemed to me to cross my com.
panion’s expressive face. }

A STUDY IN SCARLET. we

“Do you mean that you are on the right track?” he
asked.

“The right track! Why, sir, we have the maz under
lock and key.”

“ And his name is ?”

“ Arthur Charpentier, sub-lieutenant in her majesty’s
navy,” cried Gregson, pompously, rubbing his fat hands
and inflating his chest.

Sherlock Holmes gave a sigh of relief and relaxed
into a smile.

“Take a seat and try one of these cigars,” he said.
“We are anxious to know how you managed it. Will
you have some whisky and water?”

“JT don’t mind if I do,” the detective answered.
“The tremendous exertions which I have gone through
during the last day or two have worn me out. Not so
much bodily exertion, you understand, as the strain
upon the mind. You will appreciate that, Mr. Sherlock
Holmes, for we are both brain-workers.”

“You do me too much honor,” said Holmes, gravely.
“Let us hear how you arrived at this most gratifying
result.”

The detective seated himself in the arm-chair and
puffed complacently at his cigar. Then suddenly he
slapped his thigh in a paroxysm of amusement.

“The fun of it is,” he cried, “that that fool Lestrade,
who thinks himself so smart, has gone off upon the
wrong track altogether. He is after the secretary,
Stangerson, who had no more to do with the crime than
the babe unborn. I have no doubt that he has caught
him by this time.”

70 A STUDY IN SCARLET.

The idea tickled Gregson so much that he laughed
until he choked.

“And how did you get your clew?2”

“Ah, I'll tell you all about it. Of course, Dr. Wat-
son, this is strictly between ourselves. The first diffi-
culty which we had to contend with was the finding of
this American’s antecedents. Some people would have
waited until their advertisements were answered, or
until parties came forward and volunteered informa-
tion. That is not Tobias Gregson’s way of going to
work. You remember the hat beside the dead man?”

“Yes,” said Holmes; “by John Underwood & Sons,
129 Camberwell Road.”

Gregson looked quite crest-fallen.

“T had no idea that you noticed that,” he said.
“Have you been there?”

“No.”

“Ha!” cried Gregson, in a relieved voice; “you
should never neglect a chance, however small it may -
seem.”

“To a great mind nothing is little,” remarked Holmes,
sententiously.

“Well, I went to Underwood, and asked him if he ©
had sold a hat of that size and description. He looked
over his books, and came on it at once. He had sent
the hat to a Mr. Drebber, residing at Charpentier’s
boarding establishment, Torquay Terrace. Thus I got
at his address.”

“Smart—very smart!” murmured Sherlock Holmes. -

“T next called upon Madame Charpentier,” continued
the detective. “I found her very pale and distressed.

A STUDY IN SCARLET. rh

fies daughter was in the room, too—an uncommonly
Sne girl she is, too; she was looking red about the eyes,
ind her lips trembled as I spoke to her. That didn’t
escape my notice. I began to smellarat. You know
the feeling, Mr. Sherlock Holmes, when you come upon
he right scent—a kind of thrill in your nerves. ‘Have
you heard of the mysterious death of your late boarder,
Mr. Enoch J. Drebber, of Cleveland ?’ I asked.

“The mother nodded. She didn’t seem able to get
outa word. The daughter burst into tears. I felt more
than ever that these people knew something of the matter.

“* At what o’clock did Mr. Drebber leave your house
for the train?’ I asked.

“* At eight o’clock,’ she said, gulping in her throat to
keep down her agitation. ‘ His secretary, Mr. Stanger-
son, said that there were two trains—one at 9:15 and
one at 11. He was to catch the first.’

“* And was that the last which you saw of him?’

“A terrible change came over the woman’s face as I
asked the question. Her features turned perfectly livid.
It was some seconds before she could get out the single
word ‘Yes,’ and when it did come it was in a husky,
unnatural tone.

“There was silence for a moment, and then the
daughter spoke in a calm, clear voice.

“* No good can ever come of falsehood, mother,’ she
said. ‘Let us be frank with this gentleman. We aid
see Mr. Drebber again.’

“*God forgive you!’ cried Madame Charpentier,
throwing up her hands and sinking back in her chair,
“You have murdered your brother.’

92 A STUDY IN SCARLET.

“¢ Arthur would rather that we spoke the truth,’ the
girl answered, firmly.

“*Vou had best tell me all about it now,’ I said,
‘Half confidences are worse than none. Besides, you
do not know how much we know of it.’

“On your head be it, Alice!’ cried her mother; and
then, turning to me, ‘I will tell you all, sir. Do not
imagine that my agitation on behalf of my son arises
from any fear lest he should have had a hand in this
terrible affair. He is utterly innocent of it. My dread
is, however, that in your eyes and in the eyes of others
he may appear to be compromised. That, however, is
surely impossible. His high character, his profession,
his antecedents would all forbid it.’

“*Vour best way is to make a clean breast of the
facts,’ I answered. “Depend upon it, if your son is in-
nocent he will be none the worse.’

“‘* Perhaps, Alice, you had better leave us together,’
she said, and her daughter withdrew. ‘ Now, sir,’ she
continued, ‘I had no intention of telling you all this,
but since my poor daughter has disclosed it, I have no
alternative. Having once decided to speak, I will tell
you all without omitting any particular.’

“Tt is your wisest course,’ said I. |

“Mr. Drebber has been with us nearly three weeks.
He and his secretary, Mr. Stangerson, had been travel-
ing on the Continent. I noticed a “Copenhagen”
label upon each of their trunks, showing that that had
been their last stopping-place. Stangerson was a quiet,
reserved man, but his employer, I am sorry to say, was
far otherwise. He was coarse in his habits and brutish

A STUDY IN SCARLET. 73

in his ways. The very night of his arrival he became
very much the worse for drink, and, indeed, after twelve
o’clock in the day he could hardly ever be said to be
sober. His manners toward the maid-servants were
disgustingly free and familiar. Worst of all, he speedily
assumed the same attitude toward my daughter, Alice,
and spoke to her more than once in a way which, fort.
unately, she is too innocent to understand. On one
occasion he actually seized her in his arms and em.
braced her—an outrage which caused his own secretary
to reproach him for lis unmanly conduct.’

“*But why did you stand all this?’ I asked. ‘]
suppose that you can get rid of your boarders when you
wish.”

“Mrs. Charpentier blushed at my pertinent question.

“*Would to God that I had given him notice on the
very day he came,’ she said. ‘ But it was a sore tempta-
tion. They were paying a pound a day each—fourteen
pounds a week, and this is a slack season. I am a
widow, and my boy in the navy has cost me much. I
grudged to lose the money. I acted forthe best. This
last was too much, however, and I gave him notice to
leave on account of it. That was the reason of his
going.’

“* Well? *

““My heart grew light when I saw him drive away.
My son is on leave just now, but I did not tell him
anything of this, for his temper is violent, and he is
passionately fond of his sister. When I closed the door
behind them a load seemed to be lifted from my mind.
Alas! in less than an hour there was a ring at the bell,

74 A STUDY IN SCARLET.

and I learned that Mr. Drebber had returned. He was
much excited, and evidently the worse for drink. He
forced his way into the room where I was sitting with
my daughter, and made some incoherent remark about
having missed his train. He then turned to Alice, and,
before my very face, proposed to her that she should
fly with him. “You are of age,” he said, “and there
is no law to stop you. I have money enough and to
spare. Never mind the old girl here, but come along
with me now straight away. You shall live like a prin-
cess.” Poor Alice was so frightened that she shrunk
away from him, but he caught her by the wrist and
endeavored to draw her toward the door. I screamed,
and at that moment my son Arthur came into the room.
What happened then I do not know. I heard oaths
and the confused sounds of a scuffle. I was too terri-
fied to raise my head. When I did look up, I saw
Arthur standing in the doorway laughing, with a stick |
in his hand. “TI don’t think that fine fellow will trouble
us again,” he said. “I will just go after him and see
what he does with himself.” With those words he took
his hat and started off down the street. The next morn-
ing we heard of Mr. Drebber’s mysterious death.’

“This statement came from Mrs. Charpentier’s lips
with many gasps and pauses. At times she spoke sc
low that I could hardly catch the words. I made short
hand notes of all that she said, however, so that there
_ should be no possibility of a mistake.”

“It’s quite exciting,” said Sherlock Holmes, with a
yawn. ‘“‘ What happened next ?”

“When Mrs. Charpentier paused,” the detective oon

A STUDY IN SCARLET. 3

tinued, “I saw that the whole case hung upon one
point. Fixing her with my eye in a way which I always
found effective with women, I asked her at what hour
her son returned.

***T do not know,’ she answered.

“* Not know ?’

“*No; he has a latch-key, and let himself in.’

“* After you went to bed?’

ae Ves.’

“* When did you go to bed ?’

“* About eleven.’

“‘*So your son was gone at least two hours?’

ce Yes.’

“** Possibly four or five? ’

ae Yes.’

““* What was he doing during that time?”

“*T do not know,’ she answered, turning white to her
very lips.

“ Of course, after that there was nothing more to be
done. I feund out where Lieutenant Charpentier was,
took two officers with me, and arrested him. When I
touched him on the shoulder and warned him to come
quietly with us, he answered us as bold as brass: ‘I
suppose you are arresting me for being concerned in the
death of that scoundrel Drebber,’ he said. We had said
nothing to him about it, so that his alluding to it had
a most suspicious aspect.”

“Very,” said Holmes.

“He still carried the heavy stick which the mother
described him as having with him when he followed
Drebber. It was a stout oak cudgel.”

76 A STUDY IN SCARLET.

“What is your theory, then ?”

“Well, my theory is that he followed Drebber as far
as the Brixton Road. When there, a fresh altercation
arose between them, in the course of which Drebber
received a blow from the stick, in the pit of the stomach,
perhaps, which killed him without leaving any mark.
The night was so wet that no one was about, so Char-
pentier dragged the body of his victim into the empty
house. As to the candle, and the blood, and the writ-
ing on the wall, and the ring, they may all be so many
tricks to throw the police on to the wrong scent.”

“Well done!” said Holmes, in an encouraging voice.
“Really, Gregson, you are getting along. We shall
make something of you yet.”

“T flatter myself that I have managed it rather neatly,”
the detective answered, proudly. “The young man
volunteered a statement, in which he said that after
following Drebber for some time, the latter perceived |
him, and took a cab in order to get away from him.
On his way home he met an old shipmate, and took a
long walk with him. On being asked where his old
shipmate lived, he was unable to give any satisfactory
reply. I think the whole case fits together uncommonly
well. What amuses me is to think of Lestrade, who
had started off upon the wrong scent. I am afraid he
won’t make much of it. Why, by Jove, here’s the very
man himself!”

It was indeed Lestrade, who had ascended the stairs
while we were talking, and who now entered the room.
The assurance and jauntiness which generally marked
his demeanor and dress were, however, wanting. His

A STUDY IN SCARLET. ?

face was disturbed and troubled, while his clothes were
disarranged and untidy. He had evidently come with
the intention of consulting with Sherlock Holmes, for
on perceiving his colleague he appeared to be embar-
rassed and put out. He stood in the center of the room,
fumbling nervously with his hat, and uncertain what
to do. ¢

“This is a most extraordinary case,” he said, at lastt—
“a most incomprehensible affair.”

“Ah, you find it so, Mr. Lestrade!” cried Gregson,
triumphantly. “I thought you would come to that
conclusion. Have you managed to find the secretary,
Mr. Joseph Stangerson? ”

“The secretary, Mr. Joseph Stangerson,” said Les-
trade, gravely, “‘was murdered at Halliday’s Private
Hotel about six o’clock this morning.”

CHAPTER VIL
LIGHT IN THE DARKNESS,

THE intelligence with which Lestrade greeted us was
sO momentous and so unexpected that we were all three
fairly dumfounded. Gregson sprang out of his chair
and upset the remainder of his whisky and water. I
stared in silence at Sherlock Holmes, whose lips were
compressed and his brows drawn down over his eyes.

“Stangerson, too!” he muttered. “The plot thickens.”

“It was quite thick enough before,” grumbled Les-
trade, taking a chair. ‘1 seem to have dropped into a
sort of council of war.” |

“ Are you—are you sure of this piece of intelligence? ”
stammered Gregson.

“TI have just come from his room,” said Lestrade,
“‘T was the first to discover what had occurred.”

“ We have been hearing Gregson’s view of the matter,”
Holmes observed. ‘“ Would you mind letting us know
what you have seen and done? ”

“TI have no objection,” Lestrade answered, seating
himself. ‘I freely confess that I was of the opinion
that Stangerson was concerned in the death of Drebber.
This fresh development has shown me that I was com-
pletely mistaken. Full of the one idea, I set myself

78

A STUDY JN SCARLET, 79

to find cut what had become of the secretary. They
had been seen together at Euston Station about half
past eight on the evening of the third. At two in the
morning Drebber had been found in the Brixton Road.
The question which confronted me was to find out how
Stangerson had been employed between 8:30 and the
time of the crime, and what had become of him after-
ward. I telegraphed to Liverpool, giving a description
of the man, and warning them to keep a watch upon
the American boats. I then set to work calling upon
all the hotels and lodging-houses in the vicinity of Eus-
ton. You see, I argued that if Drebber and his com-
panion had become separated, the natural course for the
latter would be to put up somewhere in the vicinity for
the night, and then to hang about the station again next
morning.”

“They would be likely to agree on some meeting-
place beforehand,” remarked Holmes.

“So it proved. I spent the whole of yesterday even-
ing in making inquiries entirely without avail. This
morning I began very early, and at eight o’clock I
reached Halliday’s Private Hotel, in Little George Street.
On my inquiry as to whether a Mr. Stangerson was liv-
ing there, they at once answered me in the affirmative.

«No doubt you are the gentleman he was expecting,’
they said. ‘He has been waiting for a gentleman for
two days.’

“* Where is he now?’ I asked.

“* He is upstairs in bed. He wished to be called at
nine.’

“Tt seemed to me that my sudden appearance might

80 A STUDY IN SCARLET.

shake his nerves and lead him to say something un.
guarded. ‘The Boots volunteered to show me the room;
it was on the second floor, and there was a small corri-
dor leading up to it. ‘The Boots pointed out the door
to me, and was about to go downstairs again, when I
saw something that made me feel sickish, in spite of my
twenty years’ experience. From under the door there
curled a little red ribbon of blood, which had meandered
across the passage and formed a little pool along the
skirting at the other side. I gave a cry, which brought
the Boots back. He nearly fainted when he saw it.
The door was locked on the inside, but we put our
shoulders to it and knocked itin. The window of the
room was open, and beside the window, all huddled up,
lay the body of a man in his night-dress. He was quite
dead, and had been for some time, for his limbs were

rigid and cold. When we turned him over, the Boots _

recognized him at once as being the same gentleman
who had engaged the room under the name of Joseph
Stangerson. ‘The cause of death was a deep stab in the
left side, which must have penetrated the heart. And
now comes the strangest part of the affair. What do
you suppose was above the murdered man?”

I felt a creeping of flesh, and a presentiment of com-
ing horror, even before Sherlock Holmes answered.

“The word ‘ Rache,’ written in letters of blood,” he
said.

“That was it,” said Lestrade, in an awe-struck voice ; 4
and we were all silent for a while.

There was something so methodical and so incompre-
hensible about the deeds of this unknown assassin, that

7

4A STUDY IN SCARLE7. 31

ft imparted a fresh ghastliness to his crimes. My nerves,
which were steady enough on the field of battle, tingled
as I thought of it.

“The man was seen,” continued Lestrade. ‘ A milk-
boy, passing on his way to the dairy, happened to wai
down the lane which leads from the mews at the back
of the hotel. He noticed that a ladder, which usually
lay there, was raised against one of the windows of the
second floor, which was wide open. After passing, he
looked back and saw a man descend the ladder. He
came down so quietly and openly that the boy imagined
him to be some carpenter or joiner at work in the hotel.
He took no particular notice of him, beyond thinking
in his own mind that it was early for him to be at work.
He has an impression that the man was tall, had a red-
dish face, and was dressed in a long, brownish coat.
He must have stayed in the room some little time after
the murder, for we found blood-stained water in the
basin, where he had washed his hands, and marks on
the sheets where he had deliberately wiped his knife.”

I glanced at Holmes on hearing the description of the
murderer, which tallied so exactly with his own. There
was, however, no trace of exultation or satisfaction upon
his face.

“ Did you find nothing in the room which could fur-
nish a clew to the murderer ? ” he asked.

“Nothing. Stangerson had Drebber’s purse in his
pocket, but it seems that this was usual, as he did all
the paying. There was eighty-odd pounds in it, but
nothing had been taken. Whatever the motives of
these extraordinary-crimes, robbery is certainly not one

82 & STUDY IN SCARLET.

of them. There were no papers or memoranda in the
murdered man’s pocket, except a single telegram, dated
from Cleveland about a month ago, and containing the
words, ‘J. H. is in Europe.” There was no name ap-
pended to this message.”

«« And there was nothing else?” Holmes asked.

‘Nothing of any importance. The man’s novel, with
which he had read himself to sleep, was lying upon the
bed, and his pipe was on a chair beside him. There
was a glass of water on the table, and on the window-
sill a small chip ointment-box containing a couple of
pills.”

Sherlock Holmes sprang from his chair with an ex-
clamation of delight. ;

‘‘The last link!” he cried, exultantly, ‘‘My case is
complete.”

The two detectives stared at him in amazement.

‘‘T have now in my hands,” my companion said,
confidently, ‘‘all the threads which have formed such a
tangle. There are, of course, details to be filled in, but
I am as certain of all the main facts, from the time that
Drebber parted from Stangerson at the station, up to
the discovery of the body of the latter, as if I had seen
them with my own eyes. I will give you a proof of my
knowledge. Could you lay your hand upon those pills?”

‘“‘T have them,” said Lestrade, producing a small
white box; ‘‘I took them and the purse and the tele-
gram, intending to have them put in a place of safety
at the police station. It was the merest chance my
taking these pills, for I bound to say that I do not
attach any importance to them.”

A STUDY IN SCARLET, 83

“Give them here,” said Holmes. “Now, doctor,”
turning to me, “are those ordinary pills?”

They certainly were not. They were of a pearly gray
color, small, round, and almost transparent, against the
light. |

“From their lightness and transparency, I should
imagine that they are soluble in water,” 1 remarked.

“Precisely so,” answered Holmes. “Now would you
mind going down and fetching that poor little devil of a
terrier which has been bad so long, and which the land-
lady wanted you to put out of its pain yesterday ?”

I went downstairs and carried the dog upstairs in my
arms. Its labored breathing and glazing eye showed
that it was not far fromitsend. Indeed, its snow-white
muzzle proclaimed that it had already exceeded tho
usual term of canine existence. I placed it upon a
cushion on the rug.

“J will now cut one of these pills in two,” said
Holmes, and drawing his penknife, he suited the action
to the word. “One half we return into the box for
future purposes. The other half I will place in this .
wine-glass, in which is a teaspoonful of water. You
perceive that our friend, the doctor, is right, and that it
readily dissolves.” 7

“This may be very interesting,” said Lestrade, in the
injured tone of one who suspects that he is being laughed
at. “I cannot see, however, what it has to do with the
death of Mr. Joseph Stangerson.”

“Patience, my friend, patience! You will find in
time that it has everything to do with it. I shall now
add a little milk to make the mixture palatable, and on

84 A STUDY IN SCARLET.

presenting it to the dog we find that he laps it up read-
ily enough.”

As he spoke he turned the contents of the wine-glass
into a saucer and placed it in front of the terrier, who
speedily licked it dry. Sherlock Holmes’s earnest de-
meanor had so far convinced us that we all sat in silence,
watching the animal intently, and expecting some start-
ling effect. None such appeared, however. The dog
continued to le stretched upon the cushion, breathing
in a labored way, but apparently neither the better nor
the worse for its draught.

Holmes had taken out his watch, and as minute fol-
lowed minute without result, an expression of the utmost
chagrin and disappointment appeared upon his features.
He gnawed his lip, drummed his fingers upon the table,
and showed every other symptom of acute impatience.
So great was his emotion that I felt sincerely sorry for ©
him, while the two detectives smiled derisively, by no —
means displeased at this check which he had met.

“{t can’t be a coincidence,” he cried, at last spring-
ing from his chair and pacing wildly up and down the
room; “it is impossible that it should be a mere coinci-
dence. The very pills which I suspected in the case of
Drebber are actually found after the death of Stangerson.
And yet they are inert. What can it mean? Surely my
whole chain of reasoning cannot have been false. It
is impossible! And yet this wretched dog is none the
worse. Ah, I haveit! Ihave it!” With a perfect
shriek of delight he rushed to the box, cut the other pill
in two, dissolved it, added milk, and presented it to the
terrier. The unfortunate creature’s tongue seemed hardly

A STUDY IN SCARLET. 85

to have been moistened in it before it gave a convulsive
shiver in every limb, and lay as rigid and lifeless as if it
had been struck by lightning.

Sherlock Holmes drew a long breath, and wiped the
perspiration from his forehead.

“‘T should have more faith,” he said; “I ought te
know by this time that when a fact appears to be op-
posed to a long train of deductions it invariably proves
to be capable of bearing some other interpretation. Of
the two pills in that box one was the most deadly poison
and the other was entirely harmless. I ought to have
known that before ever I saw the box at all.”

This last statement appeared to me to be so startling,
that I could hardly believe that he was in his sober
senses. There was the dead dog, however, to prove
that his conjecture had been correct. It seemed to me
that the mists in my own mind were gradually clearing
away, and I began to have a dim, vague perception of
the truth.

“All this seems strange to you,” continued Holmes,
“because you failed at the beginning of the inquiry to
grasp the importance of the single real clew which was
presented to you. I had the good fortune to see upon
that, and everything which has occurred since then has
served to confirm my original supposition, and, indeed,
was the logical sequence of it. Hence, things which
have perplexed you and made the case more obscure
have served to enlighten me and to strengthen my con-
clusions. It is a mistake to confound strangeness with
mystery. The most commonplace crime is often the
most mysterious because it presents no new or special

86 A STUDY IN SCARLET,

features from which deductions may be drawn. This
murder would have been infinitely more difficult to un-
ravel had the body of the victim been simply found lying
in the roadway without any of those oufré and sensa-
tional accompaniments which have rendered it remark-
able. ‘These strange details, far from making the case
more difficult, have really had the effect of making it
less so.”

Mr. Gregson, who had listened to this address
with considerable impatience, could contain himself no
onger.

“ Look here, Mr. Sherlock Holmes,” he said, “‘ we are
all ready to acknowledge that you are a smart man, and
that you have your own methods of working. We want
something more than mere theory and preaching now,
though. It is a case of taking the man. I have made
my case out, and it seems I was wrong. Young Char-
pentier could not have been engaged in this second
affair. Lestrade went after this man, Stangerson, and
it appears that he was wrong, too. You have thrown
out hints here and hints there, and seem to know more
than we do, but the time has come when we feel that
we have aright to ask you straight how much you do
know of the business. Can you name the man who
did it?”

“T cannot help feeling that Gregson is right, sir,” re-
marked Lestrade. ‘We have both tried, and we have
both failed. You have remarked more than once since
I have been in the room that you had ali the evidence
which you require. Surely you will not withhold it any
jionger.”

A STUDY IN SCAKLE1. 87

“Any delay in arresting the assassin,” I observed,
“might give him time to perpetrate some fresh atrocity.”

Thus pressed by us all, Holmes showed signs of irreso-
lution. He continued to walk up and down the room
with his head sunk on his chest and his brows drawn
down, as was his habit when lost in thought.

“There will be no more murders,” he said, at last,
stopping abruptly and facing us. ‘‘ You can put that
consideration out of the question. You have asked me
if I know the name of the assassin. Ido. The mere
knowing of his name is a small thing, however, com-
pared with the power of laying our hands upon him.
This I expect very shortly to do. I have good hopes
of managing it through my own arrangements; but it
is a thing which needs delicate handling, for we havea
shrewd and desperate man to deal with, who is supported,
as I have had occasion to prove, by another who is as
clever as himself. As long as this man has no idea
that any one can have a clew, there is some chance of
securing him; but if he had the slightest suspicion, he
would change his name, and vanish in an instant among
the four million inhabitants of this great city. Without
meaning to hurt either of your feelings, I am bound to
say that I consider these men to be more than a match
for the official force, and that is why I have not asked
your assistance. If I fail I shall of course incur all the
blame due to this omission; but that I am prepared for.
At present I am ready to promise that the instant that
I can communicate with you without endangering my
own combinations, I shall do so.”

Gregson and Lestrade seemed to be far from satisfied

88 A STUDY IN SCARLE™

by this assurance, or by the depreciating allusion to the
detective police. ‘The former had flushed up to the
roots of his flaxen hair, while the other’s beady eyes
glistened with curiosity and resentment. Neither of
them had time to speak, however, before there was a
tap at the door and the spokesman of the street arabs,
young Wiggins, introduced his insignificant and unsavory
person.

“ Please, sir,” he said, touching his forelock, “‘I have
the cab downstairs.” :

“Good boy,” said Holmes, blandly. “ Why don’t you
introduce this pattern at Scotland Yard?” he continued,
taking a pair of steel handcuffs from'a drawer. ‘“‘See
how beautifully the spring works. They fasten in an
instant.”

“ The old pattern is good enough,” remarked Lestrade,
“if we can find the man to put them on.”

“Very good, very good,” said Holmes, smiling. “The
cabman may as well help me with my boxes. Just ask
him to step up, Wiggins.”

I was surprised to find my companion speaking as
though he were about to set out on a journey, since he
had not said anything to me about it. There was a
small portmanteau in the room, and this he pulled out
and began to strap. He was busily engaged at it when
the cabman entered the room.

“Just give me a help with this buckle, cabman,”
he said, kneeling over his task, and never turning his
head.

The fellow came forward with a somewhat sullen,
defiant air, and put down his hands to assist. At that

A STUDY IN SCARLET. 82

instant there was a sharp click, the jangling of metal,
and Sherlock Holmes sprang to his feet again.

“Gentlemen,” he cried, with flashing eyes, “let me
introduce you to Mr. Jefferson Hope, the murderer of
Enoch Drebber and of Joseph Stangerson.”

The whole thing occurred in a moment—so quickly
that I had no time to realize it. I have a vivid recollec-
tion of that instant, of Holmes’s triumphant expression
and the ring of his voice, of the cabman’s dazed, savage
face, as he glared at the glittering handcuffs, which had
appeared as if by magic upon his wrists. For a second
or two we might have been a group of statues. Then,
with an inarticulate roar of fury, the prisoner wrenched
himself free from Holmes’s grasp, and hurled himself
through the window. Woodwork and glass gave way
before him; but before he got quite through, Gregson,
Lestrade, and Holmes sprang upon him like so many
stag-hounds. He was dragged back into the room, and
then commenced a terrific conflict. So powerful and so
fierce was he, that the four of us were shaken off again
and again. He appeared to have the convulsive strength
of a man in an epileptic fit. His face and hands were
terribly mangled by the passage through the glass, but
loss of blood had no effect in diminishing his resistance.
It was not until Lestrade succeeded in getting his hand
inside his neckcloth and half strangling him that we
made him realize that his struggles were of no avail;
and even then we felt no security until we had pinioned
his feet as well as his hands. That done, we rose to
our feet, breathless and panting.

“We have his cab,” said Sherlock Holmes. “It will

‘

90 A STUDY IN SCARLET

serve to take him to Scotland Yard. And now, gentle.
men,” he continued, with a pleasant smile, “we have
reached the end of our little mystery. You are very
welcome to put any questions that you like to me now,
and there is no danger that I will refuse to answer them.”

PART II.

The Country of the Saint

. CHAPTERI.
ON THE GREAT ALKALI PLAIN.

In the central portion of the great North American
Continent there lies an arid and repulsive desert, which
for many a long year served as a barrier against the
advance of civilization. From the Sierra Nevada to
Nebraska, and from the Yellowstone River in the north
to the Colorado upon the south, is a region of desolation
and silence. Nor is Nature always in one mood through-
out this grim district. It comprises snow-capped and
lofty mountains, and dark and gloomy valleys. ‘There
are swift-flowing rivers which dash through jagged can-
yons; and there are enormous plains, which in winter
are white with snow, and in summer are gray with the
saline alkali dust. They all preserve, however, the com-
men characteristics of barrenness, inhospitality, and
misery.

There are no inhabitants of this land of despair. A
band of Pawnees or of Blackfeet may occasionally tra-
verse it in order to reach other hunting-grounds, but the

91.

a
, 92 A STUDY IN SCARLET,

hardiest of the braves are glad to lose sight of those |
awesome plains, and to find themselves once more upon —
their prairies. The coyote skulks among the scrub, the
buzzard flaps heavily through the air, and the clumsy
grizzly bear lumbers through the dark ravines, and picks
up such sustenance as it can amon, the rocks. These
are the sole dwellers in the wilderness.

In the whole world there can be no more dreary view
than that from the northern slope of the Sierra Blanco.
As far as the eye can reach stretches the great flat’
plain-land, all dusted over with patches of alkali, and
intersected by clumps of the dwarfish chaparral bushes.
On the extreme verge of the horizon lie a long chain of
mountain-peaks, with their rugged summits flecked with
snow. In this great stretch of country there is no sign
of life, nor of anything appertaining to life. There is
no bird in the steel-blue heaven, no movement upon
the dull, gray earth—above all, there is absolute silence.
Listen as one may, there is no shadow of a sound ir all
that mighty wilderness; nothing but silence—complete
and heart-subduing silence.

It has been said there is nothing appertaining to
life upon the broad plain. ‘That is hardly true. Look-
ing down from the Sierra Blanco, one sees a pathway
traced out across the desert, which winds away and ts
lost in the extreme distance. It is rutted with wheels
and trodden down by the feet of many adventurers.
Here and there are scattered white objects which glisten
in the sun, and stand out against the dull deposit-of al-
kali. Approach, and examine them! They are bones;
some large and coarse, others smaller and more delicate.

* * %

- oo

A STUDY IN SCARLET. 93

The former have belonged to oxen, and the latter to
men. For fifteen hundred miles one may trace this
ghastly caravan route by these scattered remains of
those who had fallen by the way-side.

Looking down on this very scene, there stood upon
the 4th of May, 1847, a solitary traveler. His appear-
ance was such that he might have been the very genius
or demon of the region. An observer would have found
it difficult to say whether he was nearer to forty or to
sixty. His face was lean and haggard, and the brown,
parchment-like skin was drawn tightly over the project-
ing bones; his long, brown hair and beard were all
flecked and dashed with white; his eyes were sunken in
his head, and burned with an unnatural luster, while the
hand which grasped his rifle was hardly more fleshy
than that of a skeleton. As he stood, he leaned upon
his weapon for support, and yet his tall figure and the
massive framework of his bones suggested a wiry and
vigorous constitution. His gaunt face, however, and his
clothes, which hung so baggily over his shriveled limbs,
proclaimed what it was that gave him that senile and
decrepit appearance. The man was dying—dying from
hunger and from thirst.

He had toiled painfully down the ravine, and on to
this little elevation, in the vain hope of seeing some signs
of water. Now the great salt plain stretched before his
eyes, and the distant belt of savage mountains, without
a sign anywhere of plant or tree, which might indicate
the presence of moisture. In all that broad landscape
there was no gleam of hope. North, and east, and west
he looked with wild, questioning eyes, and shits he real-

94 A STUDY IN SCARLET.

ized that his wanderings had come to an end, and that
there, on that barren crag, he was about to die.

“Why not here, as well as in a feather bed, twenty
years hence,” he muttered, as he seated himself in the
shelter of a bowlder.

Before sitting down, he had deposited upon the
ground his useless rifle, and also a large bundle tied up
in a gray shawl, which he had carried slung over his
right shoulder. It appeared to be somewhat too heavy
for his strength, for, in lowering it, it came down on the
ground with some little violence. Instantly there broke
from the gray parcel a little moaning cry, and from it
there protruded a small, scared face, with very bright
brown eyes, and two little speckled dimpled fists.

“You've hurt me!” said a childish voice, reproach-
fully.

“Have I, though?” the man answered, penitently.
“T didn’t go for to do it.”

As he spoke, he unwrapped the gray shawl and ex-
tricated a pretty little girl of about five years of age,
whose dainty shoes and smart pink frock, with its little
linen apron, all bespoke a mother’s care. The child
was pale and wan, but her healthy arms and legs showed
that she had suffered less than her companion.

“How is it now?” he answered, anxiously, for she
was still rubbing the towsy golden curls which covered
the back of her head.

“Kiss it and make it well,” she said, with perfect
gravity, shoving the injured part up to him. “That’s
what mother used to do. Where’s mother ?”

“Mother’s gone. I guess you'll see her before long.”

‘A STUDY IN SCARLET. 95

“Gone, eh!” said the little girl. ‘ Funny she didn’t
say good-by; she ’most always did if she was just goin’
over to auntie’s for tea, and now she’s been away for
three days. Say, it’s awful dry, ain’t it? Ain’t there
no water nor nothing to eat ?”

“No, there ain’t nothing, dearie. You'll just need
to be patient awhile, and then you'll be all right. Put
your head up agin me, like that, and then you'll feel
better. It ain’t easy to talk when your lips is like
leather, but I guess I’d best let you know how the cards
lie. What’s that you’ve got ?”

“Pretty things! fine things!” cried the little sit en-
thusiastically, holding up two glittering fragments of
mica. ‘‘ When we goes back to home I'll give them to
brother Bob.”

“You'll see prettier things than them soon,” said the
man, confidently. ‘ You just wait abit. I was going to
tell you, though—you remember when we left the river?”

“Oh, yes."

“Well, we reckoned we’d strike another river soon,
d’ye see. But there was somethin’ wrong; compasses,
or map, or somethin’, and it didn’t turn up. Water
ran out. Just except a little drop for the likes of you
and—and—”

“And you couldn’t wash yourself,” interrupted his
companion, gravely, staring up at his grimy visage.

“No, nor drink. And Mr. Bender, he was the first
to go, and then Indian Pete, and then Mrs. McGregor,
and then Johnny Hones, and then, dearie, your mother.”

“Then mother’s a deader, too,” cried the little girl,
dropping her face in her pinafore and sobhing bitterly.

96 A STUDY IN SCARLET.

“Yes; they all went except you and me. Then 1
thought there was some chance of water in this direction,
so I heaved you over my shoulder and we tramped it
together. It don’t seem as though we’ve improved
matters. There’s an almighty small chance for us now!”

“ Do you mean that we are going to die, too?” asked
the child, checking her sobs, and raising her tear-stained
face.

“T guess that’s about the size of it.”

“Why didn’t you say so before ?” she said, laughing
gleefully. “You gave me such a fright. Why, of
course, now as long as we die we'll be with mother
again.”

“Yes, you will, dearie.”

“And you, too. I'll tell her how awful good you’ve
been. I'll bet she meets us at the door of heaven with
a big pitcher of water, and a lot of buckwheat cakes,
hot, and toasted on both sides, like Bob and me was ©
fond of. How long will it be first ?”

“T don’t know—not very long.”

The man’s eyes were fixed upon the northern horizon.
In the blue vault of the heaven there appeared three little
specks which increased in size every moment, so rapidly
did they approach. They speedily resolved themselves
into three large brown birds, which circled over the
heads of the two wanderers, and then settled upon some
rocks which overlooked them. They were buzzards,
the vultures of the West, whose coming is the forerunner
of death.

“Cocks and hens,” cried the little girl, gleefully,
pointing at their ill-omened forms, and clapping her

A STUDY IN SCARLET. 97

hands to make them rise. “Say, did God make this
country ?”

“In course He did,” said her companion, rather
startled by this unexpected question.

“He made the country down in Illinois, and He
made the Missouri,” the little girl continued. “I guess
somebody else made the country in these parts. It’s
not nearly so well done. They forgot the water and
the trees.”

“What would ye think of offering up prayer?” the
man asked, diffidently.

“Jt ain’t night yet,” she answered.

“It don’t matter. It ain’t quite regular, but He
won’t mind that, you bet. You say over them ones
that you used to say every night in the wagon when we
was on the plains.”

“Why don’t you say some yourself ?” the child asked,
with wondering eyes.

“TI disremember them,” he answered. ‘I hain’t said
none since I was half the height o’ that gun. I guess
it’s never too late. You say them out, and I'll stand
by and come in on the choruses.”

“Then you'll need to kne_l down, and me too,” she
said, laying the shawl out for that purpose. “ You've
got to put your hands up like this. It makes you feel
kind of good.”

It was a strange sight, had there been anything but
the buzzards to see it. Side by side on the narrow
shawl knelt the two wanderers, the little, prattling child
and the reckless, hardened adventurer. Her chubby
face and his haggard, angular visage were both turned

8 A STUDY IN SCARLET.

up to the cloudless heaven in heartfelt entreaty to that
dread Being with whom they were face to face, whiie
the two voices—the one thin and clear, the other deep
and harsh—united in the entreaty for mercy and for-
giveness. The prayer finished, they resumed their seat
in the shadow of the bowlder until the child fell asleep,
nestling upon the broad breast of her protector. He

watched over her slumber for some time, but Nature —

proved to be too strong for him. For three days and
three nights he had allowed himself neither rest nor re-
pose. Slowly the eyelids drooped over the tired eyes,
and the head sank lower and lower upon the breast,
until the man’s grizzled beard was mixed with the golden
tresses of his companion, and both slept the same deep
and dreamless slumber. |

Had the wanderer remained awake for another half-
hour a strange sight would have met his eyes. Far
away on the extreme verge of the alkali plain there rose
up a little spray of dust, very slight at first, and hardly
to be distinguished from the mists of the distance, but

gradually growing higher and broader until it formed a

solid, well-defined cloud. This cloud continued to in-
crease in size until it became evident that it could only
be raised by a great multitude of moving creatures. In
more fertile spots the observer would have come to the
conclusion that one of those great herds of bisons which
graze upon the prairie-land was approaching him. This
was obviously impossible in these arid wilds. As the
whirl of dust drew nearer to the solitary bluff upon
which the two castaways were reposing, the canvas
covered tilts of wagons and the figures of armed horse

1 ale
pie dete

A STUDY IN SCARLET. 99

men began to show up through the haze, and the ap.
parition revealed itself as being a great caravan upon its
journey for the West. But what a caravan! When

the kead of it had reached the base of the mountains,
the rear was not yet visible on the horizon. Right
across the enormous plain stretched the straggling array,
wagons and carts, men on horseback, and men on foot.
Innumerable women who staggered along under bur-
dens, and children who toddled beside the wagons or
peeped out from under the white coverings. This was
evidently no ordinary party of immigrants, but rather
some nomad people who had been compelled from
stress of circumstances to seek themselves a new coun-
try. There rose through the clear air a confused clat-
tering and rumbling from this great mass of humanity,
with the creaking of wheels and the neighing of horses.
Loud as it was, it was not sufficient to rouse the two
tired wayfarers above them.

At the head of the column there rose a score or more -

of grave, iron-faced men clad in somber homespun

~ garments and armed with rifles. On reaching the base
of the bluff they halted and held a short council among
themselves.

“The wells are to the right, my brothers,” said one,
a hard-lipped, clean-shaven man with grizzly hair.

“To the right of the Sierra Blanco—so we shall
reach the Rio Grande,” said another.

“ Fear not for water,” cried a third. ‘“ He who could
draw it from the rocks will not now abandon His own
chosen people.”

“Amen! Amen!” responded the whole party.

100 A STUDY IN SCARLET.

They were about to resume their journey when one
of the youngest and keenest-eyed uttered an exclamation
and pointed up at the rugged crag above them. From
its summit there fluttered a little wisp of pink, showing
up hard and bright against the gray rocks behind. At
the sight there was a general reining up of horses and
unslinging of guns, while fresh horsemen came galloping
up to reinforce the vanguard. The word “ Redskins”
was on every lip.

“There can’t be any number of Injuns here,” said
the elderly man who appeared to be in command.
“We have passed the Pawnees, and there are no other
tribes until we cross the great mountains.”

“Shall I go forward and see, Brother Stangerson? ”
asked one of the band.

“ And I,” “ And I,” cried a dozen voices.

“Leave your horses below and we will wait you here,”
the elder answered. In a moment the young fellows
had dismounted, fastened their horses, and were ascend-
ing the precipitous slope which led up to the object
which had excited their curiosity. They advanced
rapidly and noiselessly, with the confidence and dexterity
of practiced scouts. The watchers from the plain
below could see them flit from rock to rock until their
figures stood out against the sky-line. The young man
who had first given the alarm was leading them. Sud-
denly his followers saw him throw up his hands, as
though overcome with astonishment, and on joining him
they were affected in the same way by the sight which
met their eyes.

On the little plateau which crowned the barren hill

A STUDY IN SCARLET. 101

there stood a single giant bowlder, and against this
bowlder there lay a tall man, long-bearded and hard-
featured, but of an excessive thinness. His placid
face and regular breathing showed that he was fast
asleep. Beside him lay a little child, with her round
white arms encircling his brown, sinewy neck, and her
golden-haired head resting upon the breast of his vel-
veteen tunic. Her rosy lips were parted, showing the
regular line of snow-white teeth within, and a playful
smile played over her infantile features. Her plump
little white legs, terminating in white socks and neat
shoes with shining buckles, offered a strange contrast to
the long, shriveled members of her companion. On_
the ledge of rock above this strange couple there stood
three solemn buzzards, who, at the sight of the new-
comers, uttered raucous screams of disappointment and
flapped sullenly away.

The cries of the foul birds awoke the two sleepers,
who stared about them in bewilderment. The man stag-
gered to his feet and looked down upon the plain which
had been so desolate when sleep had overtaken him,
and which was now traversed by this enormous body of
men and beasts. His face assumed an expression of
incredulity as he gazed, and he passed his bony hand
over his eyes.

“ This is what they call delirium, I guess,” he muttered.
The child stood beside him, holding on to the skirt of
his coat, and said nothing, but looked all round her
with the wondering, questioning gaze of childhood.

The rescuing party were speedily able to convince
the two castaways that their appearance was no delusion,

02 A STUDY IN SCARLET.

One of them seized the little girl, and hoisted her upon
his shoulder, while two others supported her gaunt com-
panion, and assisted him toward the wagons.

“‘ My name is John Ferrier,” the wanderer exp!ained ;

me and that little ’un are all that’s left o’ twenty-one
people. The rest is all dead o’ thirst and nUnges away
down in the south.” |

“Is she your child?” asked some one.

“TI guess she is now,” the other cried, defiantly; |
“she’s mine ’cause I saved her. No man will take her
away from me. She’s Lucy Ferrier from this day on.
Who are you, though?” he continued, glancing with
curiosity at his stalwart, sunburned rescuers; “there
seems to be a powerful lot of ye.”

“Nigh upon ten thousand,” said one of the young
men; “we are the persecuted children of God—the
chosen of the angel Merona.”

“T never heard tell on him,” said the wanderer, ©
“He appears to have chosen a fair crowd of ye.”

“Do not jest at that which is sacred,” said the other,
sternly. “We are of those who believe in those sacred
writings, drawn in Egyptian letters on plates of beaten
gold, which were handed unto the holy Joseph Smith,
at Palmyra. We have come from Nauvoo, in the State
of Illinois, where we had founded our temple. We
have come to seek a refuge from the violent man and
from the godless, even though it be in the heart of the
desert.”

The name of Nauvoo evidently recalled recollections
to John Ferrier.

“T see,” he said; “you are the Mormons.”

A STUDY IN SCARLET. IC3

“We are the Mormons,” answered his companions,
with one voice.

“ And where are you going?”

“We do not know. The hand of God is leading
us under the person of our prophet. You must come
before him. He shall say what is to be done witb
you.” ’

They had reached the base of the hill by this time,
and were surrounded by crowds of the pilgrims—pale-
faced, meek-looking women, strong, laughing children,
and anxious, earnest-eyed men. Many were the cries
of astonishment and of commiseration which arose from
them when they perceived the youth of one of the
strangers and the destitution of the other. Their escort
did not halt, however, but pushed on, followed by a
great crowd of Mormons, until they reached a wagon
which was conspicuous for its great size and for the
gaudiness and smartness of its appearance. Six horses
were yoked to it, whereas the others were furnished with
two, or, at most, four apiece. Beside the driver there
sat a man who could not have been more than thirty
years of age, but whose massive head and resolute ex-
pression marked him as a leader. He was reading a
brown-backed volume, but as the crowd approached he
laid it aside, and listened attentively to an account of
the episode. Then he turned to the two castaways.

“Tf we take you with us,” he said, in solemn words,
“it can only be as believers in our own creed. We
shall have no wolves in our fold. Better far that your
bones should bleach in this wilderness than that you
should prove to be that little speck of decay which in

104, A STUDY IN SCARLET,

time corrupts the whole fruit, Will you come with us
on these terms?”

“ Guess I’ll come with you on any terms,” said Ferrier,
with such emphasis that the grave elders could not re-
strain a smile. The leader alone retained his stern, im-
pressive expression.

“Take him, Brother Stangerson,” he said, “ give him
food and drink, and the child likewise. Let it be your.
task also to teach him our holy creed. We have delayed
long enough. Forward! On, on to Zion!”

“On, on to Zion!” cried the crowd of Mormons, and
the words rippled down the long caravan, passing from
mouth to mouth until they died away in a dull murmur
in the far distance. With a cracking of whips and a
creaking of wheels the great wagon got into motion,
and soon the whole caravan was winding along once ©
more. ‘The elder to whose care the two waifs had been
committed led them to his wagon, where a meal was
already awaiting them.

“You shall remain here,” he said. “In a few days
you will have recovered from your fatigues. In the
meantime, remember that now and forever you are of
our religion. Brigham Young has said it, and he has
spoken with the voice of Joseph Smith, which is the
voice of God.”

CHAPTER II.
THE FLOWER OF UTAH.

Tuis is not the place to commemorate the trials and
privations endured by the immigrant Mormons before
they came to their final haven. From the shores of the
Mississippi to the western slopes of the Rocky Mount-
ains they had struggled on with a constancy almost un-
paralleled in history. The savage man and the savage
beast, hunger, thirst, fatigue, and disease—every im-
pediment which Nature could place in the way, had
all been overcome with Anglo-Saxon tenacity Yet the
long journey and the accumulated terrors had shaken
the hearts of the stoutest among them. There was not
one who did not sink upon his knees in heartfelt prayer
when they saw the broad valley of Utah bathed in the
sunlight beneath them, and learned from the lips of their
leader that this was the promised land, and that these
virgin acres were to be theirs forevermore.

Young speedily proved himself to be a skillful admin-
istrator as well as a resolute chief. Maps were drawn
and charts prepared, in which the future city was sketched
out. All around farms were apportioned and allotted
in proportion to the standing of each individual. The
tradesman was put to his trade and the artisan to his
calling. In the town streets and squares sprang up as

105

106 A STUDY IN SCARLET,

if by magic. In the country there was draining and
hedging, planting and clearing, until the next summer
saw the whole country golden with the wheat crop.
Everything prospered in the strange settlement. Above
all, the great temple which they had erected in the cen-
ter of the city grew ever taller and larger. From the
first blush of dawn until the closing of the twilight, the
clatter of the hammer and the rasp of the saw was never
absent from the monument which the emigrants erected
to Him who had led them safe through many dangers.

The two castaways, John Ferrier and the little girl
who had shared his fortunes and had been adopted
as his daughter, accompanied the Mormons to the end
of their great pilgrimage. Little Lucy Ferrier was
borne along pleasantly enough in Elder Stangerson’s
wagon, a retreat which she shared with the Mormon’s
three wives and with his son, a headstrong, forward boy
of twelve. Having rallied, with the elasticity of child-
hood, from the shock caused by her mother’s death, she
soon became a pet with the women, and reconciled her-
self to this new life in her moving canvas-covered home,
In the meantime, Ferrier, having recovered from his
privations, distinguished himself as a useful guide and an
indefatigable hunter. So rapidly did he gain the esteem
of his new companions, that when they reached the end
of their wanderings, it was unanimously agreed that he
should be provided with as large and as fertile a tract of
land as any of the settlers, with the exception of Young
himself, and of Stangerson, Kimball, Johnston, and Dreb-
ber, who were the four principal elders. _

On the farm thus acquired John Ferrier built himself

A STUDY IN SCARLET. 10}

w substantial log-house, which received so many addi-
tions in succeeding years that it grew into a roomy vilia.
He was a man of a practical turn of mind, keen fn his
dealings, and skillful with his hands. His iron constitu-
tion enabled him to work morning and evening at im-
proving and tilling his lands. Hence it came about that
his farm and all that belonged to him prospered exceed-
ingly. In three years he was better off than his neigh-
bors, in six he was well-to-do, in nine he was rich, and
in twelve there were not half a dozen men in the whole
of Salt Lake City who could compare with him. From
the great inland sea to the distant Wahsatch Mountains
there was no name better known than that of John
Ferrier.

There was one way, and only one, in which he offended
the susceptibilities of his co-religionists. No argument
or persuasion could ever induce him to set up a female
establishment after the manner of hiscompanions. He
never gave reasons for this persistent refusal, but con-
tented himself by resolutely and inflexibly adhering to
his determination. ‘There were some who accused him
of lukewarmness in his adopted religion, and others who
put it down to greed of wealth and reluctance to incur
expense. Others, again, spoke of some early love affair,
and of a fair-haired girl who had pined away on the
shores of the Atlantic. Whatever the reason, Ferrier
remained strictly celibate. In every other respect he
conformed to the religion of the young settlement, and
gained the name of being an orthodox and straight-
walking man.

Lucy Ferrier grew up within the iog-house, and as-

x03 4 STUDY IN SCARLET,

sisted her adopted father in all his undertakings. The
keen air of the mountains and the balsamic odor of the
pine-trees took the place of nurse and mother to the
young girl As year succeeded to year she grew taller
and stronger, her cheek more ruddy, and her step more
elastic. Many a wayfarer upon the high-road which ran
by Ferrier’s farm felt long-forgotten thoughts revive in
his mind as he watched her lithe, girlish figure tripping
through the wheat-fields, or met her mounted upon her
father’s mustang, and managing it with all the ease and
grace of a true child of the West. So the bud Dlos-
somed into a flower, and the year which saw her father
the richest of the farmers left her as fair a specimen of
American girlhood as could be found in the whole Pa-
cific slope.

It was not the father, however, who first discovered
that the child had developed into the woman. It sel-
dom is in such cases. ‘That mysterious change is too
subtle and too gradual to be measured by dates. Least
of all does the maiden herself know it until the tone of
a voice or the touch of a hand sets her heart thrilling
within her, and she learns, with a mixture of pride and of
fear, that a new and a larger nature has awakened within
her. There are few who cannot recall that day and re-
member the one little incident which heralded the dawn
of a new life. In the case of Lucy Ferrier the occasion
was serious enough in itself, apart from its future influ
ence on her destiny and that of many besides.

It was a warm June morning, and the Latter-Day
Saints were as busy as the bees whose hive they have
chosen for theiremblem. In the fields and in the streets

4A STUDY IN SCARLET. 109

rose the same hum of human industry. Down the
dusty high-roads defiled long streams of heavily laden
mules, all heading to the West, for the gold fever had
broken out in California, and the Overland Route lay
through the City of the Elect. There, too, were droves
of sheep and bullocks coming in from the outlying pas-
ture-lands, and trains of tired immigrants, men and
horses equally weary of their interminable journey.
Through all this motley assemblage, threading her way
with the skill of an accomplished rider, there galloped
Lucy Ferrier, her fair face flushed with the exercise and
her long chestnut hair floating out behind her. She had
a commission from her father in the city, and was dash-
ing in as she had done many a time before, with all the
fearlessness of youth, thinking only of her task and how
it was to be performed. The travel-stained adventurers
gazed after her in astonishment, and even the unemo-
tional Indians, journeying in with their peltry, relaxed
their accustomed stoicism as they marveled at the beauty
of the pale-faced maiden.

She had reached the outskirts of the city when she
found the road blocked by a great drove of cattle, driven
by a half-dozen wild-looking herdsmen from the plains.
In her impatience she endeavored to pass this obstacle
by pushing her horse into what appeared to be a gap.
Scarcely had she got fairly into it, however, before the
beasts closed in behind her, and she found herself com-
pletely imbedded in the moving stream of fierce-eyed,
long-horned bullocks. Accustomed as she was to deal
with cattle, she was not alarmed at her situation, but
teok advantage of every opportunity to urge her horse

110 A STUDY IN SCARLET.

on in the hope of pushing her way through the caval
cade. Unfortunately the horns of one of the creatures,
either by accident or design, came in violent contact
with the dank of the mustang, and excited it to mad-
ness. In an instant it reared up upon its hind legs with
a snort of rage, and pranced and tossed in a way that
would have unseated any but a most skillful rider. The
situation was full of peril. Every plunge of the excited
horse brought it against the horns again, and goaded it
to fresh madness. It was all that the girl could do to
keep herself in the saddle, yet a slip would mean a terni-
ble death under the hoofs of the unwieldy and terrified
animals. Unaccustomed to sudden emergencies, her
head began to swim, and her grip upon the bridle to
relax. Choked by the rising cloud of dust and by the
steam from the struggling creatures, she might have
abandoned her efforts in despair, but for a kindly voice
at her elbow which assured her of assistance. At the

same moment a sinewy brown hand caught the fright- .
ened horse by the curb, and, forcing a way through the ~

drove, soon brought her to the outskirts.

“You're not hurt, I hope, miss,’’ said her preserver,
respectfully.

She looked up at his dark, fierce face, and laughed
saucily.

“T’m awful frightened,” she said, naively; “ whoever
would have thought that Poncho would have been se
scared by a lot of cows?” )

“Thank God you kept your seat,” the other said,
earnestly. He was a tall, savage-looking young fellow,
mounted on a powerful roan horse, and clad jn the rough

A STUDY IN SCARLET. 188

dress of a hunter, with a long rifle slung over his shoul-
der. “I guess you are the daughter of John Ferrier,”
he remarked. ‘I saw you ride down from his house.
When you see him, ask him if he remembers the Jeffer-
son Hopes of St. Louis. If he’s the same Ferrier, my
father and he were pretty thick.” .

“Hadn’t you better come and ask yourself?” she
asked, demurely.

The young fellow seemed pleased at the suggestion,
and his dark eyes sparkled with pleasure,

“T'll do so,” he said; “‘ we’ve been in the mountains
for two months, and are not over and above in visiting
condition. He must take us as he finds us.”

“ He has a good deal to thank you for, and so have
I,” she answered; “he’s awful fond of me. If those
cows had jumped on me, he’d have never got over it.”

“ Neither would I,” said her companion.

“Vou? Well, I don’t see that it would make much
matter to you, anyhow. You ain’t even a friend of
ours.”

The young hunter’s dark face grew so gloomy over
this remark that Lucy Ferrier laughed aloud.

“ There, I didn’t mean that,” she said ; “ of course, you
are a friend now. You must come and see us. Nowl
must push along, or father won’t trust me with his busi-
ness any more. Good-by.”

“Good-by,” he answered, raising his broad sombrero,
and bending over her little hand. She wheeled her mus-
tang round, gave it a cut with her riding-whip, and
darted away down the broad road in a rolling cloud of
dust.

112 A STUDY IN SCARLET.

Voung Jefferson Hope rode on with his companions,
gloomy and taciturn. He and they had been among
the Nevada Mountains prospecting for silver, and were
returning to Salt Lake City in the hope of raising capi-
tal enough to work some lodes which they had discov.
ered. He had been as keen as any of them upon the
business until this sudden incident had drawn his thoughts
into another channel. The sight of the fair young girl,
as frank and wholesome as the Sierra breezes, had stirred
his volcanic, untamed heart to its very depths. When
she had vanished from his sight, he realized that a crisis
had come in his life, and that neither silver speculations
nor any other questions could ever be of such impor:
tance to him as this new and all-absorbing one. The
love which_had sprung up in his heart was not the sud-
den, changeable fancy of a boy, but rather the wild,
fierce passion of a man of strong will and imperious
temper. He had been accustomed to succeed in all
that he undertook. He swore in his heart he would not
fail in this if human effort and human perseverance
could render him successful.

He called on John Ferricr that night, and many
times again, until his face was a familiar one at the farm-
house. John, cooped up in the valley, and absorbed
in his work, had little chance of learning the news of
the outside world during the last twelve years. All this
Jefferson Hope was able to tell him, and in a style which
interested Lucy as well as her father. He had beena
pioneer in California, and could narrate many a strangé
tale of fortunes made and fortunes lost in those wild,
haleyon days. He had been a scout, too, and a trap

A STUDY IN SCARLET. 11g

per, a silver explorer, and a ranchman. Wherever stir-
ring =dventures were to be had, Jefferson Hope had
been there in search of them. He soon became a
favorite with the old farmer, who spoke eloquently of
his virtues. On such occasions Lucy was silent, but
her blushing cheek and her bright, happy eyes showed
only too clearly that her young heart ‘was no longer her
own. Her honest father may not have observed these
symptoms, but they were assuredly not thrown away
upon the man who had won her affections. :

It was a summer evening when he came galloping
down the road and pulled up at the gate. She was at
the doorway, and came down to meet him. He threw
the bridle over the fence and strode up the pathway.

“T am off, Lucy,” he said, taking her two hands in
his, and gazing tenderly down into her face; “I won't
ask you to come with me now, but will you be ready to
come when I am here again?”

“ And when will that be?” she asked, blushing and
laughing.

“A couple of months at the outside. I will come
and claim you then, my darling. There’s no one who
can stand between us.”

“ And how about father?” she asked.

“He has given his consent, provided we get these
mines working all right. I have no fear on that head.”

“Oh, well, of course, if you and father have arranged
it all, there’s no more to be caid,” she whispered, with
her cheek against his broad breast.

“Thank God!” he said, hoarsely, stooping end kiss-
ing her. “It is settled then. The longer I stay the

114 A STUDY IN SCARLET.

harder it will be to go. They are waiting for me at the
cafion. Good-by, my own darling—good-by. In twc
months you shall see me.”

He tore himself from her as he spoke, and, flinging
himself upon his horse, galloped furiously away, never
even looking round, as though afraid that his resolution
might fail him if he took one glance at what he was
leaving. She stood at the gate, gazing after him until
he vanished from her sight. Then she walked back into
the house, the happiest girl in all Utah.

CHAPTER IIL
JOHN FERRIER TALKS WITH THE PROPHET.

THREE weeks had passed since Jefferson Hope and
his comrades had departed from Salt Lake City. John
Ferrier’s heart was sore within him when he thought of
the young man’s return, and of the impending loss of
his adopted child. Yet her bright and happy face rec-
onciled him to the arrangement more than any argu.
ment could have done. He had always determined,
deep down in his resolute heart, that nothing would
ever induce him to allow his daughter to wed a Mor-
mon. Such a marriage he regarded as no marriage at
all, but as a shame and a disgrace. Whatever he might
think of the Mormon doctrines, upon that one point he
was inflexible. He had to seal his mouth on the sub-
ject, however, for to express an unorthodox opinion
was a dangerous matter in those days in the Land of
‘the Saints.

Yes, a dangerous matter—so dangerous that even
the most saintly dared only whisper their religious opin-
ions with bated breath, lest something which fell from
- their lips might be misconstrued and bring down a swift
retribution upon them. The victims of persecution had
now turned persecutors on their own account, and per-

us

116 A STUDY IN SCARLET,

secutors of the most terrible description. Not the In-
quisition of Seville, nor the German Vehmgericht, nor
the secret societies of Italy, were ever able to put a
more formidable machinery in motion than that which
cast a cloud over the Territory of Utah.

Its invisibility, and the mystery which was attached
to it, made this organization doubly terrible. It ap-
peared to be omniscient and omnipotent, and yet was
neither seen nor heard. The man who held out against
the church vanished away, and none knew whither he
had gone, or what had befallen him. His wife and
children awaited him at home, but no father ever re-
turned to tell them how he had fared at the hands of
his secret judges. A rash word or a hasty act was fol-
lowed by annihilation, and yet none knew what the
nature might be of this terrible power which was sus-
pended over them. No wonder that men went about
in fear and trembling, and that even in the heart of the
wilderness they dared not whisper the doubts which
oppressed them.

At first this vague and terrible power was exercised
enly upon the recalcitrants, who, having embraced the
Mormon faith, wished afterward to pervert or to abandon
it. Soon, however, it took a wilder range. The supply ~
of adult women was running short, and polygamy, with-
out a female population on which to draw, was a barren
doctrine indeed. Strange rumors began to be bandied
about—rumors of murdered immigrants and rifled camps
in regions where Indians had never been seen. Fresh
women appeared in the harems of the elders—women

4A STUDY IN SCARLET. 117

who pined and wept, and bore upon their faces the
traces of an unextinguishable horror. Belated wanderers
upon the mountains spoke of gangs of armed men,
masked, stealthy, and noiseless, who flitted by them in
the darkness. These tales and rumors took substance
and shape, and were corroborated and recorroborated,
until they resolved themselves into a definite name. To
this day, in the lonely ranches of the West, the name of
the Danite Band, or the Avenging Angels, is a sinister
and an ill-omened one.

Fuller knowledge of the organization which produced
such terrible results served to increase rather than to
lessen the horror which it inspired in the minds of men.
None knew who belonged to this ruthless society. The
names of the participators in the deeds of blood and
violence, done under the name of religion, were kept
profoundly secret. The very friend to whom you
communicated your misgivings as to the prophet and
his mission might be one of those who would come
forth at nigit with fire and sword to exact a terrible
reparation. Hence every man feared his neighbor,
and none spoke of the things which were nearest his
heart.

One fine morning, John Ferrier was about to set out
to his wheat-fields, when he heard the click of the latch,
and, looking through the window, saw a stout, sandy-
haired, middle-aged man coming up the pathway. His
heart leaped to his mouth, for this was none other than
the great Brigham Young himself. Fuh of trepidation
—for he knew that such a visit boded him little good

118 A STUDY IN SCARLET.

—Ferrier ran to the door to greet the Mormon chief.
The latter, however, received his salutation coldly, and
followed him with a stern face into the sitting-room.

“Brother Ferrier,” he said, taking a seat, and eyeing
the farmer keenly from under his light-colored eyelashes,
“the true believers have been good friends to you. We
picked you up when you were starving in the desert, we
shared our food with you, led you safe to the Chosen
Valley, gave you a goodly share of land, and allowed
you to wax rich under our protection. Is not this sor”

“It is so,” answered John Ferrier.

“In return for all this, we asked but one condition:
that was, that you should embrace the true faith, and
conform in every way to its usages. This you promised
to do; and this, if common report says truly, you have
neglected.”

“ And how have I neglected it?” asked Ferrier, throw- —
ing out his hands in expostulation. ‘“‘ Have I not given
to the common fund? Have I not attended at the
temple? Have I not—?”

“Where are your wives?” asked Young, looking round
him. “Call them in, that I may greet them.” ;

“Tt is true that I have not married,” Ferrier answered.
“But women were few, and there were many who had
better claims than I. I was nota lonely man; I had
my daughter to attend to my wants.”

“Tt is of that daughter that I would speak to you,”
said the leader of the Mormons. “She has grown to
be the flower of Utah, and has found favor in the eyes
of many who are high in the land.”

John Ferrier groaned internally.

@ STUDY IN SCARLET. 119

“ There are stories of her which I would fain disbelieve
—stories that she is sealed to some Gentile. This must
be the gossip of idle tongues. What is the thirteenth
rule in the code of the sainted Joseph Smith? ‘Let
every maiden of the true faith marry one of the elect;
for if she wed a Gentile, she commits a grievous sin.’
This being so, it is impossible that you, who profess the
holy creed, should suffer your daughter to- violate it.”

John Ferrier made no answer, but he played nervously
with his riding-whip.

“ Upon this one point your whole faith shall be tested
—so it has been decided in the Sacred Council of Four.
The girl is young, and we would not have her wed gray

-hairs, neither would we deprive her of all choice. We
elders have many heifers,* but our children must also
be provided. Stangerson has a son, and Drebber has 4
son, and either of them would gladly welcome your
daughter to their house. Let her choose between them.
They are young and rich, and of the true faith. What
say you to that?”

Ferrier remained silent for some little time with his
brows knitted.

“You will give us time,” he said, at last. “My
daughter is very young—she is scarce of an age to
marry.”

“She shall have a month to choose,” said Young, ris-
ing from his seat. “At the end of that time she shal
give her answer.”

* Heber C. Kimball, in one of his sermons, alludes to his hundred
wives under this endearing epithet. -

120 A STUDY IN SCARLET,

He was passing through the door, when he turned,
with flushed face and flashing eyes.

“It were better for you, John Ferrier,” he thundered,
“that you and she were now lying blanched skeletons
upon the Sierra Blanco, than that you should put your
weak wills against the orders of the Holy Four!”

With a threatening gesture of his hand he turned
from the door, and Ferrier heard his heavy step scrunch-
ing along the shingly path.

He was still sitting with his elbows upon his knees,
considering how he should broach the matter to his
daughter, when a soft hand was laid upon his, and
looking up, he saw her standing beside him. One
glance at her pale, frightened face showed him that
she had heard what had passed.

“T could not help it,” she said, in answer to his look,

“ His voice rang through the house. Oh, father, father,

what shall we do?”

“Don’t you scare yourself,” he answered, drawing ~

her to him, and passing his broad, rough hand caress-
ingly over her chestnut hair. ‘We'll fix it up somehow
oranother. You don’t find your fancy kind o’ lessening
for this chap, do you?”

A sob and a squeeze of his hand was her only an-
swer.

“No; of course not. I shouldn’t care to hear you
say you did. He’s a likely lad, and he’s a Christian,
which is more than these folk here, in spite o’ all their
praying and preaching. There’s a party stcrting for
Nevada to-morrow, and I’ll manage to send him a mes-
sage Jetting him know the hole we arein. If I know

+. Vee

A STUDY IN SCARLET, 12f

anything o’ that young man, he’ll be back here with a
speed that would whip electro-telegraphs.”

Lucy laughed through her tears at her father’s descrip-
tion.

“When he comes, he will advise us for the best. But
it is for you that I am frightened, dear. One hears—
one hears such dreadful stories about those who oppose
the prophet; something terrible always happens to
them.”

“But we haven’t opposed him yet,” her father an-
swered. “It will be time to look out for squalls when
we do. We have a clear month before us; at the end
of that, I guess we had best shin out of Utah.”

“Leave Utah P”

“That’s about the size of it.”

“But the farm? ”

“We will raise as much as we can in money, and let
the rest go. To tell the truth, Lucy, it isn’t the first
time I have thought of doing it. I don’t care about
knuckling under to any man, as these folk do to their
darned prophet. I’m a free-born American, and it’s all
new tome. Guess I’m too old to learn. If he comes
browsing about this farm, he might chance to run up
against a charge of buckshot traveling in the opposite
direction.”

“But they won’t let us leave,” his daughter objected.

“Wait till Jefferson comes, and we'll soon manage
that. In the meantime, don’t you fret yourself, my
dearie, and don’t get your eyes swelled up, else he'll be
_walking into me when he sees you. There’s nothing to

be afeard about, and there’s no danger at all,”

122 A STUDY IN SCARLET.

John Ferrier uttered these consoling remarks in a very
confide::t tone, but she could not help observing that he
paid unusual care to the fastening of the doors that
night, and that he carefully cleaned and loaded the
rusty old shot-gun which hung upon the wall of his bed:
FROM,

CHAPTER IV.
A FLIGHT FOR LIFE,

Own the morning which followed his interview with
the Mormon prophet, John Ferrier went into Salt Lake
City, and having found his acquaintance, who was bound
for the Nevada Mountains, he intrusted him with his
message to Jefferson Hope. In it he told the young
man of the imminent danger which threatened them, and
how necessary it was that he should return. Having
done this, he felt easier in his mind, and returned home
with a lighter heart.

As he approached his farm, he was surprised to see
a horse hitched to each of the posts of the gate. Still
more surprised was he on entering to find two young
men in possession of his sitting-room. One, with a
tong, pale face, was leaning back in the rocking-chair,
with his feet cocked up upon the stove. The other, a
bull-necked youth with coarse, bloated features, was
standing in front of the window, with his hands in his
pockets, whistling a popuiar hymn. Both of them
nodded to Ferrier as he entered, and the one in the
rocking-chair commenced the conversation.

“Maybe you don’t know us,” he said. ‘“ This here
is the son of Elder Drebber, and I’m Joseph Stangerson,
who traveled with you in the desert when the Lord

123

124 A STUDY IN SCARLE7,

stretched out His hand and gathered you into the true
fold.”

“ As He will all the nations, in His own good time,”
said the other, in a nasal voice; “ He grindeth slowly
but exceeding small.” |

John Ferrier bowed coldly. He had guessed whe
his visitors were.

“We have come,” continued Stangerson, “ at the ad-
vice of our fathers, to solicit the hand of your daughter
for whichever of us may seem good to you and to her.
As I have but four wives and Brother Drebber here has
seven, it appears to me that my claim is the stronger
one.”

“Nay, nay, Brother Stangerson,” cried the other;
“the question is not how many wives we have, but how
many we can keep. My father has now given over his
mills to me, and I am the richer man.”

“But my prospects are better,” said the other, warmly. |
“When the Lord removes my father, I shall have his
tanning-yard and his leather-factory. Then I am your
elder, and am higher in the Church.”

“Tt will be for the maiden to decide,” rejoined young
Drebber, smirking at his own reflection in the glass.
“We will leave it all to her decision.”

During this dialogue, John Ferrier had stood fuming
in the doorway, hardly able to keep his riding-whip from
the backs of his two visitors.

“Look here,” he said, at last, striding up to them,
“when my daughter summons you, you can come; but
until then, I don’t want to see your faces again.”

The two young Mormons stared at him in amaze-

A STUDY IN SCARLET. 135

ment. In their eyes this competition between them for
the maiden’s hand was the highest of honors both to
her and her father.

“There are two ways out of the room,” cried Ferrier ;
“there is the door, and there is the window. Which
do you care to useP”

His brown face looked so savage, and his gaunt hands
so threatening, that his visitors sprung to their feet and
beat a hurried retreat. ‘The old farmer followed them
to the door.

“Tet me know when you have settled which it is te
be,” he said, sardonically.

“You shall smart for this!” Stangerson cried, white
with rage. ‘ You have defied the prophet and the Coun-
cil of Four. You shall rue it to the end of your days.”

“The hand of the Lord shall be heavy upon you,”
cried young Drebber; “ He will arise and smite you! ”

“Then I'll start the smiting,” exclaimed Ferrier, fury
ously, and he would have rushed upstairs for his gun
had not Lucy seized him by the arm and restrained him.
Before he could escape from her, the clatter of horses’
hoofs told him that they were beyond his reach.

“The young canting rascals!” he exclaimed, wiping
the perspiration from his forehead; “I would sooner
see you in your grave, my girl, than the wife of either
of them.”

“ And so should I, father,” she answered, with spirit ;
“but Jefferson will soon be here.”

“Ves, It will not be long before he comes. The
sooner the better, for we de not know what their next
move may be.”

126 A STUDY IN SCARLET.

It was, indeed, high time that some one capable of
giving advice and help should come to the aid of the
sturdy old farmer and his adopted daughter. In the
whole history of the settlement there had never been
such a case of rank disobedience to the authority of the
elders. If minor errors were punished so sternly, what
would be the fate of this arch rebel? Ferrier knew that
his wealth and position would be of no avail to him,
Others as well known and as rich as himself had been
spirited away before now, and their goods given over to
the Church. He was a brave man, but he trembled at
the vague, shadowy terrors which hung over him. Any
known danger he could face with a firm lip, but this
suspense was unnerving. He concealed his fears from
his daughter, however, and affected to make light of the
whole matter, though she, with the keen eye of love, saw
plainly that he was ill at ease.

He expected that he would receive some message or |
remonstrance from Young as to his conduct, and he was
not mistaken, though it came in an unlooked-for man-
ner. Upon rising next morning he found, to his sur-
prise, a small square of paper pinned on to the coverlet
of his bed just over his chest. On it was printed, in
bold, straggling letters:

“Twenty-nine days are given you for amendment,
and then—”

The dash was more fear-inspiring than any threat
eould have been. How this warning came into his
room puzzled John Ferrier-sorely, for his servants slept
im an out-house, and the doors and windows had all

A STUDY IN SCARLET. 127

been secured. He crumpled the paper up and said
nothing to his daughter, but the incident struck a chill
into his heart. The twenty-nine days were evidently
the balance of the month which Young had promised.
What strength or courage could avail against an enemy
armed with such mysterious powers? ‘The hand which
fastened that pin might have struck him to the heart,
and he could never have known who had slain him.

Still more shaken was he next morning. They had
sat down to their breakfast when Lucy, with a cry of
surprise, pointed upward. In the center of the ceiling
was scrawled, with a burned stick apparently, the num-
ber 28. To his daughter it was unintelligible, and he
did not enlighten her. That night he sat up with ‘is
gun and kept watch and ward. He saw and he heard
nothing, and yet in the morning a great 27 had been
painted upon the outside of his door.

Thus day followed day ; and as sure as morning came
he found that his unseen enemies had kept their register,
and had marked up in some conspicuous position how
many days were still left to him out of the month of grace.
Sometimes the fatal numbers appeared upon the walls,
sometimes upon the floors; occasionally they were on
small placards stuck upon the garden-gate or the rail-
ings. With all his vigilance John Ferrier could not dis-
cover whence these daily warnings proceeded. A hor-
ror, which was almost superstitious, came upon him at
the sight of them. He became haggard and restless,
and his eyes had the troubled look of some haunted
creature. He had but one hope in life now, and that
was for the arrival of the young hunter from Nevada.

baer yu. A STUDY IN SCAKLET.

Twenty had changed to fifteen, and fifteen w ten¢
but there was no news of the absentee. Qne by one
the numbers dwindled down, and still there came no sign
of him. Whenever a horseman clattered down theroad
or a driver shouted at his team, the old farmer hurried
to the gate, thinking that help had arrived at last. At
last, when he saw five give way to four, and that again
to three, he lost heart, and abandoned all hope of escape.
Single-handed, and with his limited knowledge of the
mountains which surrounded the settlement, he knew
that he was powerless. The more frequented roads
were strictly watched and guarded, and none could pass
along them without an order frem the council. Turn
which way he would, there appeared to be no avoiding
the blow which hung over him. Yet the old man i ver
wavered in his resolution to part with life itself before
he consented to what he regarded as his daughter’s |
dishonor.

He was sitting alone one evening pondering deeply
ever his troubles, and searching vainly for some way out
of them. That morning had shown the figure 2 upon
the wall of his house, and the next day would be the
last of the allotted time. What was to happen then?
All manner of vague and terrible fancies filled his im-
agimation. And his daughter—what was to become of
her after he was gone? Was therc no escape from the
invisible net-work which was drawn all round them?
He sunk his head upon the table and sobbed at the
thought of his own impotence.

What was that? In the silence he heard a gentle
scratching sound—low, but very distinct, in the quiet of

A STUDY IN SCARLET. 129

~the night. It came from the door of the house. Ferrier
crept into the hall and listened intently. There was a
pause for a few moments, and then the low, insidious
‘sound was repeated. Some one was evidently tapping
very gently upon one of the panels of the door. Was
it some midnight assassin who had come to carry out
the murderous order of the secret tribunal? Or was it
some agent who was marking up that the last day of
grace had arrived. John Ferrier felt that instant death
would be better than the suspense which shook his
nerves and chilled his heart. Springing forward, he
drew the bolt and threw the door open.

Outside all was calm and quiet. The night was fine,
and the stars were twinkling brightly overhead. The
little front garden lay before the farmer’s eyes, bounded
by the fence and gate; but neither there nor on the road
was any human being to be seen. With a sigh of relief
Ferrier looked to right and to left, until happening to
glance straight down at his feet he saw, to his astonish-
ment, a man lying flat upon his face upon the ground,
with his arms and legs all asprawl.

So unnerved was he at the sight that he leaned up
against the wall with his hand to his throat to stifle his
inclination to call out. His first thought was that the
prostrate figure was that of some wounded or dying man,
but as he watched it he saw it writhe along the ground
and into the hall with the rapidity and noiselessness of
a serpent. Once within the house the man sprung to
his feet, closed the door, and revealed to the astonished
farmer the fierce face and resolute expression of Jeffer-
son Hope.

{30 A STUDY IN SCARLET.

“Good God!” gasped John Ferrier. “How you
scared me! What ever made you come in like that ?”

“Give me food,” the other said, hoarsely. “I have
had no time for bite or sup for eight-and-forty hours.”
He flung himself upon the cold meat and bread which
were still lying upon the table from his host’s supper,
and devoured them voraciously. ‘ Does Lucy bear up
well?” he asked, when he had satisfied his hunger.

“Yes. She does not know the danger,” her father
answered.

“That is well. The house is watched on every side.
That is why i crawled my way up to it. They may be
darned sharp, but they’re not quite sharp enough to
catch a Washoe hunter.”

John Ferrier felt a different man now that he realized
that he had a devoted ally. He seized the young man’s
leathery hand and wrung it cordially.

“You're a man to be proud of,” he said. “There
are not many who would come to share our danger and
our troubles.”

“You've hit it there, pard,” the young hunter an-
swered. “I have a respect for you, but if you were
alone in this business I’d think twice before I put my
head into such a hornets’ nest. It’s Lucy that brings
me here, and before harm comes on her I guess there
will be one less o’ the Hope family in Utah.”

“What are we to do?”

“To-morrow is your last day, and unless you aeg to-
night you are lost. I have a mule and two horses wait
ing in the Eagle Ravine. How much money have you ?”

“Two thousand dollars in gold, and five in notes ”

A STUDY IN SCARLET. ¥3t

“That will do. I have as much more to add to it.
We must push for Carson City through the mountains.
You had best wake Lucy. It is as well that the serv:
ants do not sleep in the house.”

While Ferrier was absent preparing his daughter for
the approaching journey, Jefferson Hope packed all
the eatables that he could find into a small parcel, and
filled a stoneware jar with water, for he knew by expe-
rience that the mountain wells were few and far between.
He had hardly completed his arrangements before the
farmer returned with his daughter all dressed and ready
for a start. The greeting between the lovers was warm
but brief, for minutes were precious, and there was
much to be done.

“We must make our start at once,” said Jefferson
Hope, speaking in a low but resolute voice, like one
who realizes the greatness of the peril, but has steeled
his heart to meet it. “The front and back entrances
are watched, but with caution we may get away through
the side window and across the fields. Once on the
road, we are only two miles from the ravine where the
horses are waiting. By a taney we should be half-
way through the mountains.”

“What if we are stopped ?” asked Ferrier.

Hope slapped the revolver butt which protruded from
the front of his tunic.

“Tf they are too many for us, we shall take two or
three of them with us,” he said, with a sinister smile.

The lights inside the house had all been extinguished,
and from the darkened window Ferrier peered over the
fields which had been his own, and which he was now

132 A STUDY IN SCARLET.

about to abandon forever. He had long nerved him.
self to the sacrifice, however, and the thought of the
honor and happiness of his daughter outweighed any
regret at his ruined fortunes. All looked so peaceful
and happy, the rustling trees and the broad, silent stretch
of grain-land, that it was difficult to realize that the
spirit of murder lurked through it all. Yet the white
face and set expression of the young hunter showed that
in his approach to the house he had seen enough to
satisfy him upon that head.

Ferrier carried the bag of gold and notes, Jefferson
Hope had the scanty provisions and water, while Lucy
had a small bundle containing a few of her more valued
possessions. Opening the window very slowly and care-

‘fully, they waited until a dark cloud had somewhat ob-
scured the night, and then one by one passed through
into the little garden. With bated breath and crouching
figures they stumbled across it and gained the shelter
of the hedge, which they skirted until they came to the
gap which opened into the corn-field. They had just
reached this point when the young man seized his two
companions and dragged them down into the shadow,
where they lay silent and trembling.

It was as well that his prairie training had given
Jefferson Hope the ears of alynx. He and his friends
had hardly crouched down before the melancholy hoot-
ing of a mountain owl was heard within a few yards of
them, which was immediately answered by another hoot

at a small distance. At the same moment a vague,

shadowy figure emerged from the gap for which they
had been making, and uttered the plaintive signal cry

A STUDY IN SCARLET. 133

again, on which a second man appeared out of the
obscurity.

“To-morrow at midnight,” said the first, who appeared
to be in authority. ‘When the whip-poor-will calls
three times.”

“It is well,” returned the other. “Shall I tell Brother
Drebber ?”

“Pass it on to him, and from him to the others.
Nine to seven!”

“Seven to five!” repeated the other, and the two
figures flitted away in different directions. Their con-
cluding words had evidently been some form of sign and
countersign. ‘The instant that their footsteps had died
away in the distance, Jefferson Hope sprung to his feet,
and, helping his companions through the gap, led the
way across the fields at full speed, supporting and half
carrying the girl when her strength appeared to fail her.

“Hurry on! hurry on!” he gasped from time to
time. “We are through the line of sentinels. Every-
thing depends on speed. Hurry on!”

Once on the high-road they made rapid progress.
Only once did they meet any one, and then they man-
aged to slip into a field, and so avoid recognition. Be-
fore reaching the town the hunter branched away into a
rugged and narrow foot-path which led to the mountains.
Two dark, jagged peaks loomed above them through the
darkness, and the defile which led between them was
the Eagle Ravine, in which the horses were awaiting
them. With unerring instinct, Jefferson Hope picked
his way among the great bowlders and along the bed of
a dried-up water-course, until he came to the retired

334 4 STUDY IN SCARLET.

corner, screened with rocks, where the faithful animals
had been picketed. ‘The girl was placed upon the mule,
and old Ferrier upon one of the horses, with his money-
bag, while Jefferson Hope led the other along the pre-
cipitous and dangerous paths.

It was a bewildering route for any one who was not
accustomed to face Nature in her wildest moods. On
the one side a great crag towered up a thousand feet or
more, black, stern, and menacing, with long basaltic
columns upon his rugged surface like the ribs of some
petrified monster. On the other hand, a wild chaos of
bowlders and débris made all advance impossible. Be-
tween the two ran the irregular track, so narrow in places
that they had to travel in Indian file, and so rough that >
only practiced riders could have traversed it at all.
Yet, in spite of all dangers and difficulties, the hearts
of the fugitives were light within them, for every step
increased the distance between them and the terrible
despotism from which they were flying.

They soon had a proof, however, that they were still
within the jurisdiction of the Saints. They had reached
the very wildest and most desolate portion of the pass,
when the girl gave a startled cry, and pointed upward.
On a rock which overlooked the track, showing out
dark and plain against the sky, there stood a solitary
sentinel. He saw them as soon as they perceived him,
and his military challenge of ‘ Who goes there ?” rang
through the silent ravine.

“Travelers for Nevada,” said Jefferson Hope, with
his hand upon the rifle which hung by his saddle.

They could see the lonely watcher fingering his gun,

A STUDY IN SCARLET, 135

and peering down at them as if dissatisfied at their
reply.

“By whose permission ? ” he asked.

“The Holy Four,” answered Ferrier. His Mormon
experiences had taught him that that was the highest
authority to which he could refer. .

“Nine to seven,” cried the sentinel.

“Seven to five,” returned Jefferson Hope, promptly,
remembering the countersign which he had heard in the
garden.

“Pass, and the Lord go with you,” said the voice
from above.

Beyond this post the path broadened out, and the
horses were able to break into a trot. Looking back,
they could see the solitary watcher leaning upon his gun,
and knew that they had passed the outlying post of the
Chosen People, and that freedom lay before them.

CHAPTER V.
THE AVENGING ANGELS.

‘Aut night their course lay through intricate defiles
and over irregular and rock-strewn paths. More than
once they lost their way, but Hope’s intimate knowledge
of the mountains enabled them to regain the track once
more. When morning broke, a scene of marvelous
though savage beauty lay before them. In every direc-
tion the great snow-capped peaks hemmed them in,
peeping over one another’s shoulders to the far horizon.
So steep were the rocky banks on either side of them
that the larch and the pine seemed to be suspended over
their heads, and to need only a gust of wind to come
hurtling down upon them. Nor was the fear entirely
an illusion, for the barren valley was thickly strewn with
trees and bowlders which had fallen in a similar manner.
Even as they passed, a great rock came thundering down
with a hoarse rattle which woke the echoes in the silent
gorges, and startled the weary horses into a gallop.

As the sun rose slowly above the eastern horizon, the
caps of the great mountains lighted up one after the
other, like lamps at a festival, until they were all ruddy
and glowing. The magnificent spectacle cheered the
hearts of the three fugitives and gave them fresh en-
ergy. At a wild torrent which swept out of a ravine

136

A STUDY IN SCARLET, 137

they called a halt and watered their horses, while they
partook of a hasty breakfast. Lucy and her father
would fain have rested longer, but Jefferson Hope was
inexorable,

“They will be upon our track by this time,” he said.
“Everything depends upon our speed. Once safe in
Carson, we may rest for the remainder of our lives.”

During the whole of that day they struggled on through
the defiles, and by evening they calculated that they
were over thirty miles from their enemies. At night-
time they chose the base of a beetling crag, where the
rocks offered some protection from the chill wind, and
there, huddled together for warmth, they enjoyed a few
hours’ sleep. Before day-break, however, they were up
and on their way once more. They had seen no signs
of any pursuers, and Jefferson Hope began to think that
they were fairly out of the reach of the terrible organi-
zation whose enmity they had incurred. He little knew
how far that iron grasp could reach, or how soon it was
_ to close upon them and crush them.

About the middle of the second day of their flight
their scanty store of provisions began to run out. This
gave the hunter little uneasiness, however, for there was
game to be had among the mountains, and he had fre-
quently before had to depend upon his rifle for the
needs of life. Choosing a sheltered nook, he piled to-
gether a few dry branches and made a blazing fire, at
which his companions might warm themselves, for they
were now nearly five thousand feet above the sea-level,
and the air was bitter and keen. Having tethered the
horses and bid Lucy adieu, he threw his gun over his

138 A STUDY IN SCARLET,

shoulder, and set eut in search of whatever chance might
throw in his way. Looking back, he saw the old man
and the young girl crouching over the blazing fire, while
the three animals stood motionless in the background.
Then the intervening rocks hid them from his view.

He walked for a couple of miles through one ravine
after another without success, though from the marks
upon the bark of the trees, and other indications, he
judged that there were numerous bears in the vicinity.
At last, after two or three hours’ fruitless search, he was
thinking of turning back in despair, when casting his
eyes upward he saw a sight which sent a thrill of pleasure
through his heart. On the edge of a jutting pinnacle,
three or four hundred feet above him, there stood a
creature somewhat resembling a sheep in appearance,
but armed with a pair of gigantic horns. The big-horn
—for so it is called—was acting, probably, as a guar-
dian over a flock which were invisible to the hunter; .
but fortunately it was heading in the opposite direction,
and had not perceived him. Lying on his back, he
rested his rifle upon a rock, and took a long and steady
aim before drawing the trigger. ‘The animal sprung
into the air, tottered for a moment upon the edge of
the precipice, and then came crashing down into the
valley beneath.

The creature was too unwieldy to lift, so the hunter
contented himself with cutting away one haunch ani
part of the flank. With this trophy over his should=r,
he hastened. to retrace his steps, for the evening wa:
already drawing in. He had hardly started, howeve:.
before he reslized the difficulty which faced him. [x

A STUDY IN SCARLET. 339

his eagerness he had wandered far past the ravines
_ which were known to him, and it was no easy matter
to pick out the path which he had taken. The valley
in which he found himself divided and subdivided inta
many gorges, which were so like one another that it
was impossible to distinguish one from the other. He
followed one for a mile or more until-he came to a
mountain torrent which he was sure that he had never
seen before. Convinced that he had taken the wrong
turn, he tried another, but with the same result. Night
was coming on rapidly, and it was almost dark before
he at last found himself in a defile which was familiar
to him. Even then it was no easy matter to keep to
the right track, for the moon had not yet risen, and the
high cliffs on either side made the obscurity more pro-
found. Weighed down with his burden, and weary
from his exertions, he stumbled along, keeping up his
heart by the reflection that every step brought him
nearer to Lucy, and that he carried with him enough to
insure them food for the remainder of their journey,

He had now come to the mouth of the very defile
in which he had left them. Even in the darkness he
could recognize the outlines of the cliffs which bounded
it. They must, he reflected, be awaiting him anxiously,
for he had been absent nearly five hours. In the glad-
ness of his heart he put his hands to his mouth and
made the glen reécho to a loud halloo as a signal that
he was coming. He paused and listened for an answer.
None came save his own cry, which clattered up the
dreary, silent ravines, and was borne back to his ears in
countless repetitions. Again he shouted, even louder

149 A STUDY IN SCARLET.

\

than before, and again no whisper came back from the
friends whom he had left such a short time ago. A

vague, nameless dread came over him, and he hurried —

onward frantically, dropping the precious food in his
agitation. .

When he turned the corner, he came full in sight of
the spot where the fire had been lighted. There was
still a glowing pile of wood-ashes there, but it had evi-
dently not been tended since his departure. The same
dead silence still reigned all round. With his fears all
changed to convictions, he hurried on. There was no
living creature near the remains of the fire; animals,
man, maiden, all were gone. It was only too clear that
some sudden and terrible disaster had occurred during
his absence—a disaster which had embraced them all
and yet had left no traces behind it.

Bewildered and stunned by this blow, Jefferson Hope
felt his head spin round, and had to lean upon his rifle
to save himself from falling. He was essentially a man
of action, however, and speedily recovered from his
temporary impotence. Seizing a half-consumed piece of
wood from the smoidering fire, he blew it into a flame,
and proceeded with its help to examine the little camp.
The ground was all stamped down by the feet of horses,
showing that a large party of mounted men had over-
taken the fugitives, and the direction of their tracks
proved that they had afterward turned back to Salt

Lake City. Had they carried back both of his com-

panions with them? Jefferson Hope had almost per-
suaded himself that they must have done so, when his
eye fell upon an object which made every nerve of his

Vy
vit)
7
f

A STUDY IN SCARLET. 141

body tingle within him. A little way on one side of the
camp was a low-lying heap of reddish soil, which had
assuredly not been there before. ‘There was no mis-
taking it for anything but a newly dug grave. As the
young hunter approached it, he perceived that a stick
had been planted on it, with a sheet of paper stuck in
the cleft fork of it. The inscription upon the paper was
brief, but to the point:

JOHN FERRIER,
FORMERLY OF SALT LAKE CITY.
Died August 4, 1860.

The sturdy old inan, whom he had left so short a
time before, was gone, then, and this was all his epitaph.
Jefferson Hope looked wildly round to see if*there was
a second grave, but there was no sign of one. Lucy
had been carried back by their terrible pursuers to fulfill
her original destiny, by becoming one of the harem of
the elder’s son. As the young fellow realized the cer-
tainty of her fate and his own powerlessness to prevent
it, he wished that he, too, was lying with the old farmer
in his last silent resting-place.

Again, however, his active spirit shook off the leth-
argy which springs from despair. If there was nothing
else left to him, he could at least devote his life to re-
venge. With indomitable patience and perseverance,
Jefferson Hope possessed also a power of sustained vin-
dictiveness which he may have learned from the Indians
among whom he had lived. As he stood by the deso-
Jate fire he feit that the only one thing which could assue

142 A STUDY IN SCARLET.

age his grief would be thorough and complete retribution
brought by his own hand upon his enemies. His strong
will and untiring energy should, he determined, be de-
voted to that one end. With a grim, white face he re-
traced his steps to where he had dropped the food, and
having stirred up the smoldering fire, he cooked enough
to last him for a few days. This he made up into a \
bundle, and, tired as he was, he set himself to walk back
through the mountains upon the track of the Avenging
Angels.

For five days he toiled, foot-sore and weary, through
the defiles which he had already traversed on horseback.
At night he flung himself down among the rocks and
snatched a few hours of sleep; but before day-break he
was always well onhis way. On the sixth day he reached
the Eagle Ravine, from which they had commenced
their ill-fated flight. Thence he could look down upon
the home of the Saints. Worn and exhausred, he leaned
upon his rifle and shook his gaunt hand fiercely at the
silent, widespread city beneath him. As he looked at
it, he observed that there were flags in some of the prin-
cipal streets, and other signs of festivity. He was still
speculating as to what this might mean, when he heard
the clatter of horse’s hoofs, and saw a mounted man rid-
ing toward him. As he approached, he recognized him
as a Mormon named Cowper, to whom he had rendered
services at different times. He therefore accosted him
when he got up to him, with the object of finaing out
what Lucy Ferrier’s fate had been.

“IT am Jefferson Hope,” he said. “You rememb«s
me?”

A STUDY IN SCARLET. 143

The Mormon looked at him with undisguised aston-
ishment—indeed, it was difficult to recognize in this
tattered, unkempt wanderer, with ghastly white face and
fierce, wild eyes, the spruce young hunter of former days.
Having, however, at last satisfied himself as to his iden-
tity, the man’s surprise changed to consternation.

“You are mad to come here,” he cried. ‘It is as
much as my own life is worth to be seen talking with
you. There is a warrant against you from the Holy
Four for assisting the Ferriers away.”

“T don’t fear them or their warrant,” Hope said,
earnestly. ‘‘ You must know something of this matter,
Cowper. I conjure you by everything you hold dear to
answer a few questions. We have always been friends.
For God’s sake, don’t refuse to answer me.”

“What is it?” the Mormon asked, uneasily. “ Be
quick. The very rocks have ears and the trees eyes.”

“What has become of Lucy Ferrier?” .

“She was married yesterday to young Drebber. Hold
up, man, hold up, you have no life left in you.”

“Don’t mind me,” said Hope, faintly. He was white
to the very lips, and had sunk down on the stone against
which he had been leaning. ‘“‘ Married, you say?”

“Married yesterday—that’s what those flags are for
on the Endowment House. There was some words be
tween young Drebber and young Stangerson as to which
was to have her. They’d both been in the party that
followed them, and Stangerson had shot her father,
which seemed to give him the best claim; but when
they argued it out in council, Drebber’s party was the
stronger, so the prophet gave her over to him. Noone

144 A STUDY IN SCARLET.

won't have her very long, though, for I saw death in her
face yesterday. She is more like a ghost than a woman,
Are you off, then?”

“Yes, I’m off,” said Jefferson Hope, who had risen
from his seat.

His face might have been chiseled out of marble, se
hard and so set was its expression, while his eyes glowed
with a baleful light.

“Where are you going P”

“ Never mind,” he answered ; and, slinging his weap.
on over his shoulder, strode off down the gorge and
so away into the heart of the mountains to the haunts
of the wild beasts. Among them all there was none se
fierce and so dangerous as himself.

The prediction of the Mormon was only too well ful.
- filled. Whether it was the terrible death of her father
or the effects of the hateful marriage into which she had
been forced, poor Lucy never held up her head again,
but pined away and died within a month. Her sottish
husband, who had married her principally for the sake of
John Ferrier’s property, did not affect any great grief at
his bereavement; but his other wives mourned: over her,
and sat up with her the night before the burial, as is the
Mormon custom. They were grouped round the bier in
the early hours of the morning, when, to their inexpress-
ible fear and astonishment, the door was flung open,
and a savage-looking, weather-beaten man in tattered
garments strode into the room. Without a glance ora
word to the cowering women, he walked up to the white,
silent figure which had once contained the pure soul of
Lucy Ferrier. Stooping over her, he pressed his lips

A STUDY IN SCARLET. 145

reverently to her cold forehead, and then, snatching up
her hand, he took the wedding-ring from her finger.

“She shall not be buried in that,” he cried, with a
fierce snarl, and before an alarm could be raised sprung
down the stairs and was gone. So strange and so brief
was the episode that the watchers might*have found it
hard to believe it themselves or persuade other people
of it, had it not been for the undeniable fact that the
circlet of gold which marked her as having been a bride
had disappeared.

For some months Jefferson Hope lingered among the
mountains, leading a strange, wild life, and nursing in
his heart the fierce desire for vengeance which possessed
him. ‘Tales were told in the city of the weird figure
which was seen prowling about the suburbs, and which
haunted the lonely mountain gorges. Once a bullet whis-
tled through Stangerson’s window and flattened itself
upon the wall within a foot of him. On another occa-
sion, as Drebber passed under a cliff, a great bowlder
crashed down on him, and he only escaped a terrible
death by throwing himself upon his face. The two
young Mormons were not long in discovering the rea-
son of these attempts upon their lives, and led repeated
expeditions into the mountains in the hope of capturing
or killing their enemy, but always without success. Then
they adopted the precaution of never going out alone
or after nightfall, and of having their houses guarded.
After a time they were able to relax these measures, for
nothing was either heard or seen of their opponent, and
they hoped that time had cooled his vindictiveness.

Far from doing so, it had, if anything, augmented it.

146 4 STUDY IN SCARLET.

The hunter’s mind was of a hard, unyielding nature, and
the predominant idea of revenge had taken such com-
plete possession of it that there was no room for any
other emotion. He was, however, above all things prac-
tical. He soon realized that even his iron constitution
could not stand the incessant strain which he was put-
ting upon it. Exposure and want of wholesome food

were wearing him out. If he died like a dog among.

the mountains, what was to become of his revenge then?
And yet such a death was sure to overtake him if he per-
sisted. He felt that that was to play his enemy’s game,
so he reluctantly returned to the old Nevada mines,
there to recruit his health and to amass money enough
to allow him to pursue his object without privation.

His intention had been to be absent a year at the
most, but a combination of unforeseen circumstances
prevented his leaving the mines for nearly five. At the
end of that time, however, his memory of his wrongs
and his cravings for revenge were quite as keen as om
that memorable night when he had stood by John Fer-
rier’s grave. Disguised, and under an assumed name,
he returned to Salt Lake City, careless what became of
his own life, as long as he obtained what he knew to
be justice. There he found evil tidings awaiting him.
There had been a schism among the Chosen People a
few months before, some of the younger members of
the Church having rebelled against the authority of the
elders, and the result had been the secession of a cer-
tain number of the malcontents, who had left Utah and
become Gentiles. Among these had been Drebber and
Stangerson; and no one knew whither they had gone,

A STUDY IN SCARLET. 147

Rumor tenorted that Drebber had managed to convert
a large part of his property into money, and that he had
departed a wealthy man, while his companion, Stanger-
son, was comparatively poor. There was no clue at all,
however, as to their whereabouts.

Many a man, however vindictive, would have aban-
doned all thought of revenge in the face of such a diffi-
culty, but Jefferson Hope never faltered for a moment.
With the small competence he possessed, eked out by
such employment as he could pick up, he traveled from
town to town through the United States in quest of his
enemies. Year passed into year, his black hair turned
grizzled, but still he wandered on, a human blood-hound,
with his mind wholly set upon the one object upon which
he had devoted his life. At last his perseverance was
rewarded. It was but a glance of a face in a window,
but that one glance told him that Cleveland, in Ohio,
possessed the men whom he was in pursuit of. He re-
turned to his miserable lodgings with his plan of venge-
ance all arranged. It chanced, however, that Drebber,
looking from his window, had recognized the vagrant
in the street, and had read murder in his eyes. He
hurried before a justice of the peace, accompanied by
Stangerson, who had become his private secretary, and
represented to him that they were in danger of their
lives from the jealousy and hatred of an old rival.

That evening Jefferson Hope was taken into custody,
and not being able to find sureties, was detained for
some weeks. When at last he was liberated, it was only
to find that Drebber’s house was deserted and that he
and his secretary had departed for Europe.

148 4A STUDY IN SCARLET. |

Again the avenger had been foiled, and again his
concentrated hatred urged him to continue the pursuit.
Funds were wanting, however, and for some time he haa
to return to work, saving every dollar for his approack
ing journey. At last, having collected enough to keep
life in him, he departed for Europe, and tracked his ene-
mies from city to city, working his way in any menial
capacity, but never overtaking the fugitives. When he
reached St. Petersburg they had departed for Paris; and
when he followed them there he learned that they had
just set off for Copenhagen. At the Danish capital he
was again a few days late, for they had journeyed on to
London, where he at last succeeded in running them
to earth. As to what occurred there, we cannot do
better than quote the old hunter’s own account, as duly
recorded in Dr. Watson’s journal, to which we are al-
ready under such obligations.

CHAPTER VI.

A CONTINUATION OF THE REMINISCENCES OF JOHN
H. WATSON, M.D.

Our prisoner’s furious resistance did not apparently
indicate any ferocity in his disposition toward ourselves,
for on finding himself powerless he smiled in an affable
manner, and expressed his hopes that he had not hurt
any of us in the scuffle.

“T guess you’re going to take me to the police-station,”
he remarked to Sherlock Holmes. “ My cab’s at the
door. If you'll loose my legs I’ll walk down to it. I’m
not so light to lift as I used to be.”

Gregson and Lestrade exchanged glances as if they
thought this proposition rather a bold one; but Holmes
at once took the prisoner at his word, and loosened the
towel which he had bound round his ankles. He rose
and stretched his legs, as though to assure himself that
they were free once more. I remember that I thought
to myself, as I eyed him, that I had seldom seen a more
powerfully built man; and his dark, sunburned face
bore an expression of determination and energy which

was as formidable as his personal strength.
149

150 A STUDY 26 SCARLET.

“Tf there’s a vacant place for a chief of the police, I
reckon you are the man for it,” he said, gazing with
undisguised admiration at my fellow-lodger. _ ‘ The way
you kept on my trail was a caution.”

“You had better come with me,” said Holmes to the
two detectives.

“T can drive you,” said Lestrade.

“Good! and Gregson can come inside with me.
You, too, doctor; you have taken an interest in the case,
and may as well stick to us.”

I assented gladly, and we all descended together.
Our prisoner made no attempt at escape, but stepped
calmly into the cab which had been his, and we followed
him. Lestrade mounted the box, whipped up the horse,
and brought us in a very short time to our destination.
We were ushered into a small chamber, where a police
inspector noted down our prisoner’s name and the names
of the men with whose murder he had been charged.
The official was a white-faced, unemotional man, whe
went through his duties in a dull, mechanical way,
“The prisoner will be put before the magistrates in the
course of the week,” he said; “in the meantime, Mr.
Jefferson Hope, have you anything that you wish to
say? I must warn you that your words will be taken
down and may be used against you.”

_ “T’ve got a good deal to say,” our prisoner said,
slowly. “I want to tell you gentlemen all about it.”

A STUDY IN SCARLET. 151

“Hadn’t you better reserve that for your trial?”
asked the inspector.

“I may never be tried,” he answered. ‘“ You needn’t
look startled. It isn’t suicide I am thinking of. Are
you a doctor?” ;

He turned his fierce, dark eyes upon me as he asked
this last question.

“Yes, I am,” I answered.

“Then put your hand here,” he said, with a smile,
motioning with his manacled wrists toward his chest.

I did so, and became at once conscious of an extraor-
dinary throbbing and commotion which was going on
inside. The walls of his chest seemed to thrill and
quiver as a frail building would do inside when some
powerful engine was at work. In the silence of the
room I could hear a dull humming and buzzing noise
which proceeded from the same source.

“Why,” I cried, “ you have an aortic aneurism!”

“That’s what they call it,” he said, placidly. “TI
went to a doctor last week about it, and he told me
that it was bound to burst before many days passed.
It has been getting worse for years. I got it from over-
exposure and underfeeding among the Salt Lake mount-
ains. I’ve done my work now, and I don’t care how
soon I go, but I should like to leave some account of
the business behind me. I don’t want to be remembered
as a common cut-throat.”

152 A STUDY IN SCARLET.

The inspector and the two detectives had a hurries
discussion as to the advisability of allowing him to tell
his story.

“Do you consider, doctor, that there is immediate
danger?” the former asked.

“ Most certainly there is,” I answered.

“In that case, it is clearly our duty, in the interests
ef justice, to take his statement,” said the inspector.
“You are at liberty, sir, to give your account, which I
again warn you will be taken down.”

“T’ll sit down, with your leave,” the prisoner said,
suiting the action to the word. “This aneurism of mine
makes me easily tired, and the tussle we had half an
hour ago has not mended matters. I’m on the brink |
of the grave, and I am not likely to lie to you. Every |
word I say is the absolute truth, and how you use it is
a matter of no consequence to me.”

With these words, Jefferson Hope leaned back in his
chair and began the following remarkable statement.
He spoke in a calm and methodical manner, as though
the events which he narrated were commonplace enough.
I can vouch for the accuracy of the subjoined account,
for I have had access to Lestrade’s note-book, in which
the prisoner’s words were taken down exactly as they
were uttered.

“It doesn’t matter much to you why I hated these
men,” he said; “it’s enough that they were guilty of

A STUDY LN SCARLET, 153

the death of two human beings—a father and a daugh-
ter—and that they had, therefore, forfeited their own
lives. After the lapse of time that has passed since their
crime, it was impossible for me to secure a conviction
against them in any court. I knew of their guilt, though,
and I determined that I should be judge, jury, and ex-
ecutioner all rolled into one. You'd have done the
same, if you have any manhood in you, if you had been
in my place.

“That girl that I spoke of was to have married me
twenty years ago. She was forced into marrying that
same Drebber, and broke her heart over it. I took the
marriage-ring from her dead finger, and I vowed that
his dying eyes should rest upon that very ring, and that
his last thoughts should be of the crime for which he
was punished. I have carried it about with me, and
have followed him and his accomplice over two conti-
nents until I caught them. They thought to tire me
out, but they could not do it. If I die to-morrow, as
is likely enough, I die knowing that my work in this
world is done, and well done. They have perished, and
by my hand. There is nothing left for me to hope for
or to desire.

“They were rich, and I was poor, so that it was no
easy matter for me to follow them. When I got to
London my pocket was about empty, and I found that
I must turn my hand to something for my living. Driv

154 A STUDY IN SCARLET.

ing and riding are as natural to me as walking, so I ap.
plied at a cab-owner’s office, and soon got employment.
I was to bring a certain sum a week to the owner, and
whatever was over that I might keep for myself. There
was seldom much over, but I managed to scrape along
somehow. The hardest job was to learn my way about,
for I reckon that of all the mazes that ever were con-
trived, this city is the most confusing. I had a map
beside me, though, and when once I had spotted the
principal hotels and stations, I got on pretty well.

“Tt was some time before I found out where my two
gentlemen were living; but I inquired and inquired
until at last I dropped across them. ‘They were ata
boarding-house at Camberwell, over on the other side
of the river. When once I found them out I knew that
I had them at my mercy. I had grown my beard, and
there was no chance of their recognizing me. I would
dog them and follow them until I saw my opportunity.
I was determined that they should not escape me
again.

“They were very near doing it, for all that. Go
where they would about London, I was always at their
heels. Sometimes I followed them on my cab, and
sometimes on foot, but the former was the best, for then
they could not get away from me. It was only early in
the morning or late at night that I could earn anything
so that I began to get behindhand with my employer

A STUDY IN SCARLET. 155

I did not mind that, however, as long as I could lay my
hand upon the men I wanted.

“They were very cunning, though. They must have
thought that there was some chance of their being
followed, for they would never go out alone, and never
after nightfall. During two weeks I drove behind them
every day, and never once saw them separate. Drebber
himself was drunk half the time, but Stangerson was not
to be caught napping. I watched them late and early,
but never saw the ghost of a chance; but I was not
discouraged, for something told me that the hour had
almost come. My only fear was that this thing in my
chest might burst a little too soon and leave my work
undone.

“At last, one evening I was driving up and down
Torquay Terrace, as the street was called in which they
boarded, when I saw a cab drive up to their door.
Presently some luggage was brought out, and after a
time Drebber and Stangerson followed it and drove off.

_I whipped up my horse and kept within sight of them,
feeling ill at ease, for I feared that they were going to
shift their quarters. At Euston Station they got out,
and I left a boy to hold my horse and followed them
on to the platform. I heard them ask for the Liverpool
train, and the guard answer that one had just gone, and
there would not be another for some hours. Stangerson
seemed to be put out at that, but Drebber was rather

156 A STUDY IN SCARLET.

pleased than otherwise. I got so close to them in the

bustle that I could hear every word that passed between
them. Drebber said that he had a little business of his
ewn to do, and that if the other would wait for him he
would soon rejoin him. His companion remonstrated
with him, and reminded him that they had resolved to
stick together. Drebber answered that the matter was
a delicate one, and that he must go alone. I could not
catch what Stangerson said to that, but the other burst
out swearing, and reminded him that he was nothing
more than his paid servant, and that he must not pre-
sume to dictate to him. On that the secretary gave it
up as a bad job, and simply bargained with him that if
he missed the last train he should rejoin him at Halli-
day’s Private Hotel, to which Drebber answered that

he would be back on the platform before eleven, and

made his way out of the station.

“The moment for which I had waited so long had at
last come. I had my enemies within my power. To
gether they could protect each other, but singly they
were at my mercy. I did not act, however, with undue
precipitation. My plans were alreac_> formed. There
is no satisfaction in vengeance unless the offender hag
time to realize who it is that strikes him, and why retri«
bution had come upon him. I had my plans arranged
by which I should have the opportunity of making the
man who had wronged me understand that his old sim

A STUDY IN SCARLET. 187

had found him out. It chanced that some days before
a gentleman who had been engaged in looking over
some houses in the Brixton Road had dropped the key
of one of them in my carriage. It was claimed that
same evening and returned; but in the interval I had
taken a molding of it, and had a duplicate constructed.
By means of this I had access to at least one spot in
this great city where I could rely upon being free from
interruption. How to get Drebber to that house was
the difficult problem which I had now to solve.

“He walked down the road and went into one or
two liquor-shops, staying for nearly half an hour in the
last of them. When he came out he staggered in his
walk, and was evidently pretty well on. There was a
hansom just in front of me, and he hailed it. - I followed
it so close that the nose of my horse was within a yard
of his driver the whole way. We rattled across Water-
loo Bridge and through miles of streets, until, to my as-
tonishment, we found ourselves back in the terrace in
which he had boarded. I could not imagine what his
intention was in returning there; but I went on and
pulled up my cab a hundred yards or so from the house.
He entered it and his hansom drove away. Give mea
glass of water, if you please. My mouth gets dry with
the talking.”

I handed him the glass, and he drank it down.

“That’s better,” he said. “Well, I waited for @

158 A STUDY IN SCARLET.

quarter of an hour or more, when sudderly there came
a noise like people struggling inside the house. Next
moment the door was flung open and two men appeared,
ene of whom was Drebber, and the other was a young
chap whom I had never seen before. ‘This fellow had
Drebber by the collar, and when they came to the head
of the steps he gave him a shove and a kick which sent
him half across the road. ‘You hound!’ he cried, shak-
ing his stick at him, ‘I’ll teach you to insult an honest
girl!’ He was so hot that I think he would have
thrashed Drebber with his cudgel, only that the cur
staggered away down the road as fast as his legs would
carry him. He ran as far as the corner, and then, see-
ing my cab, he hailed me and jumped in. ‘ Drive me
to Halliday’s Private Hotel,’ said he.

“When I had him fairly inside my cab my heart
jumped so with joy that I feared lest at this last moment
my aneurism might go wrong. I drove along slowly,
weighing in my own mind what it was best todo. I
might take him right out into the country, and there in
some deserted lane have my last interview with him. I
- had almost decided upon this, when he solved the prob-

lem forme. The craze for drink had seized him again,

and he ordered me to pull up outside a gin palace. He
went in, leaving word that I should wait for him.
There he remained until closing time, and when he came

4 STUDY IN SCARLET. 159

out he was so far gone that I knew the game was in my
own hands.

“Don’t imagine that I intended to kill him in cold
- blood. It would only have been rigid justice if I had
done so, but I could not bring myself to doit. I had
long determined that he should have a show for his life
if he chose to take advantage of it. Among the many
billets which I have filled in America during my wan-
dering life, I was once a janitor and sweeper-out of the
laboratory at York College. One day the professor
was lecturing on poisons, and he showed his students
some alkaloid, as he called it, which he had extracted
from some South American arrow poison, and which
was so powerful that the least grain meant instant death.
I spotted the bottle in which this preparation was kept,
and when they were all gone I helped myself to a little
of it. I was a fairly good dispenser, so I worked this
alkaloid into small, soluble pills, and each pill I put ina
box with a similar pill made without poison. I deter-
mined at the time that, when I had my chance, my
gentlemen should each have a draw out of one of these
boxes, while I eat the pill that remained. It would be
quite as deadly, and a good deal less noisy than firing
across a handkerchief. From that day I had always
my pill-boxes about with me, and the time had now
come when I was to use them.

«60 a STUDY IN SCARLET.

“Tt was nearer one than twelve, and a wild, bleak
night, blowing hard and raining in torrents. Dismal as
it was outside, I was glad within—so glad that I could
have shouted out from pure exultation. If any of you
gentlemen have ever pined for a thing and longed for it
during twenty long years, and then suddenly found it
within your reach, you would understand my feelings.

I lighted a cigar and puffed at it to steady my nerves,

but my hands were trembling, and my temples throbbing
with excitement. As I drove, I could see old John
Ferrier and sweet Lucy looking at me out of the dark-
ness and smiling at me, just as plain as I see you all in
this room. All the way they were ahead of me, one on
each side of the horse, until I pulled up at the house in
the Brixton Road.

“There was not a soul to be seen, nor a sound to be
heard, except the dripping of the rain. When I looked
in at the window, I found Drebber all huddled together
in a drunken sleep. I shook him by the arm, ‘It’s time
to go out,’ I said. :

“* All right, cabby,’ said he.

“T suppose he thought we had come to the hotel that
he had mentioned, for he got out without another word
and followed me down the garden. I kad to walk be-
side him to keep him steady, for he was still a little top-
heavy. When we came to the door I opened iteand led
him into the front room. I give you my word that, all

“A
te ot

SE ee eer Se,

Se ae

Se ee ae eee

4 STUDY IN SCARLET. 61

the way, the father and daughter were walking in freat
of us.

“* It’s infernally dark,’ said he, stamping about.

“*We'll soon have a light,’ I said, striking a match
and putting it to a wax-candle which I had brought
with me. ° Now, Enoch Drebber,’ I continued, turning te
him, and holding the light to my own face ‘who am I?

“He gazed at me with bleared, drunken eyes for a
moment, and then I saw a horror spring up in them and
convulse his whole features, which showed me that he
knew me. He staggered back with a livid face, and 1
saw the perspiration break out upon his brow, while his
teeth chattered. At the sight, I leaned my back against
the door and laughed I5ud and long. I had always
tnowa that vengeance would be sweet, but had never
hoped for the contentment of soul which now possessed
me,

“*You dog!’ I said, ‘I have hunted you from Salt
Lake City t¢ St. Petersburg, and you have always es-
caped me. Now at last your wanderings ha ve come to
an end, for either you or I shall never see to-morrow’s
sun rise.’ He shrunk still further away as I spoke, and
I could see on his face that he thought I was mad. So
I was, for the time. The pulses in my temples beat like
sledge-hammers, and I believe I would have had a fit
of some sort if the blood had not gushed from my nose
and releved me,

168 A STUDY IN SCARLET. -

‘*¢ What do you think of Lucy Ferrier now ?” I cried,
locking the door and shaking the key in his face.
‘Punishment has been slow in coming, but it has over-
taken you at last.’ I saw his coward lips tremble as I
spoke. He would have begged for his life, but he knew
well that it was useless.

“* Would you murder me?’ hestammered. | |
*“¢There is no murder,’ I answered. ‘Who talks
murdering a mad dog? What mercy had you upon my
poor darling when you dragged her from her slaughtered
father and bore her away to your accursed and shame.

less harem?’

**Tt was not I who killed her father,’ he cried.

“But it was you who broke her innocent heart,’ I
shrieked, thrusting the box before him. ‘ Let the high
God judge between us. Choose and eat. There is
death in one and life in the other. I shall take what
you leave. Let ussee if there is justice upon the earth,
or if we are ruled by chance.’

“He cowered away with wild cries and prayers for
mercy, but I drew my knife and held it to his turoat

until he had obeyed me. Then I swallowed the other,

and we stood facing each other in silence for a minute
or more, waiting to see which was to live and which was
to die. Shall I ever forget the look which came over
his face when the first warning pangs told him that the
poison was in his system? I laughed as I saw it, and

:
:

Se I ee ee ee ee

_—

A STUDY IN SCARLET. 163

held Lucy’s marriage-ring in front of his eyes. It was
but for a moment, for the action of the alkaloid is rapid.
A spasm of pain contorted his features; he threw his
hands out in front of him, staggered, and then, with a
hoarse cry, fell heavily upon the floor. I turned him
over with my foot and placed my hand upon his heart.
There was no movement. He was dead!

“The blood had been streaming from my nose, but
I had taken no notice of it. I don’t know what it was
that put it into my head to write upon the wall with it.
Perhaps it was some mischievous idea of setting the
police upon a wrong track, for I felt light-hearted and
cheerful. I remembered a German being found in New
York with RACHE written up above him, and it was
argued at the time in the newspapers that the secret so-
cieties must have done it. I guessed that what puzzled
the New Yorkers would puzzle the Londoners, so I
dipped my finger in my own blood and printed it ona
convenient place on the wall. Then I walked down to
my cab and found that there was nobody about, and
that the night was still very wild. I had driven some
distance, when I put my hand into the pocket in which
I usually kept Lucy’s ring, and found that it was not
there. I was thunder-struck at this, for it was the only
. memento that I had of her. Thinking that I might
have dropped it when I stooped over Drebber’s body, I
drove back, and leaving my cab in a side street, I went

164 a STUDY IN SCARLET.

boldly up to the house—for I was ready to dare any-
thing rather than lose the ring. When I arrived there
I walked right into the arms of a police officer who was
coming out, and only managed to disarm his suspicions
by pretending to be hopelessly drunk.

“That was how Enoch Drebber came to his end.
All I had to do then was to do as much for Stangerson,
and so pay off John Ferrier’s debt. I knew that he was
staying at Halliday’s Private Hotel, and I hung about
all day, but he never came out. I fancy that he sus-
pected something when Drebber failed to put in an ap-
pearance. He was cunning, was Stangerson, and always
on his guard. If he thought he could keep me off by
staying in-doors he was very much mistaken. I soon
found out which was the window of his bedroom, and —
early next morning I took advantage of some ladders
which were lying in the lane behind the hotel, and se
made my way into his room in the gray of thedawn. I
woke him up, and told him that the hour had come
when he was to answer for the life he had taken so long
before. I described Drebber’s death to him, and I gave
him the same choice of the poisoned pills. Instead of
grasping at the chance of safety which that offered him,
he sprung from his bed and flew at my throat. In self-
defense I stabbed him to the heart. It would have been
the same in any case, for Providence would never have al-
lowed his guilty hand to pick out anything but the poison.

A STUDY IN SCARLET. u6g

“T have little more to say, and it’s as well, for I am
about done up. I went on cabbing it for a day or so,
intending to keep at it until I could save enough to take
me back to America. I was standing in the yard when
a ragged youngster asked if there was a cabby there
called Jefferson Hope, and said that his cab was wanted
by a gentleman at 221B Baker Street. I went round,
suspecting no harm, and the next thing I knew, this
young man here had the bracelets on my wrists, and as
neatly shackled as ever I was in my life. That’s the
whole of my story, gentlemen. You may consider me
to be a murderer; but I hold that I am just as much an
officer ef justice as you are.”

So thrilling had the man’s narrative been, and his
manner was so impressive, that we had sat silent and ab-
sorbed. Even the professional detectives, d/asé as they
were in every detail of crime, appeared to be keenly in-
terested in the man’s story. When he finished we sat
for some minutes in a stillness which was only broken
by the scratching of Lestrade’s pencil as he gave the
finishing touches to his short-hand account.

“There is only one point on which I should like a
little more information,” Sherlock Holmes said at last.
“Who was your accomplice who came for the ring
which I advertised ? ”

The prisoner winked at my friend jocesely.

“TI can tell my own secrets,’ he said, “but I don’t

166 A STUDY IN SCARLET,

get other people into trouble. I saw your advertise.
ment, and I thought it might be a plant, or it might be
- the ring I wanted. My friend volunteered to go and
see. I think you'll own he did it smartly.”

“Not a doubt of that,” said Holmes, heartily.

“Now, gentlemen,” the inspector remarked, gravely,
“the forms of the law must be complied with. On
Thursday the prisoner will be brought before the magis-
trates, and your attendance will be required. Until
then I will be responsible for him.”

He rang the bell as he spoke, and Jefferson Hope
was led off by a couple of warders, while my friend and
I made our way out of the station and took a cab back
to Baker Street.

CHAPTER VIL
THE CONCLUSION.

We had all been warned to appear before the magis-
trates upon the Thursday ; but when the Thursday came
there was no occasion for our testimony. A higher
Judge had taken the matter in hand, and Jefferson
Hope had been summoned before a tribunal where strict
justice would be meted out to him. On the very night
after his capture the aneurism burst, and he was found
in the morning stretched upon the floor of the cell, with
a placid smile upon his face, as though he had been
able in his dying moments to look back upon a useful
life and on work well done.

“Gregson and Lestrade will be wild about his death,”
Holmes remarked, as we chatted it over next evening.
“Where will their grand advertisement be now ?”

“T don’t see that they had very much to do with his
capture,” I answered.

“What you do in this world is a matter of no conse-
quence,” returned my companion, bitterly. “The ques-

tion is, what can you make people believe that you have
167

163 A STUDY IN SCARLE:. hy

done? Never mind,” he continued, more brightly, after
a pause, “I would not have missed the investigation
for anything. ‘There has been no better case within my
recollection. Simple as it was, there were several most
instructive points about it.”

“Simple!” I ejaculated.

“Well, really, it can hardly be described as otherwise,”
said Sherlock Holmes, smiling at my surprise. “The
proof of its intrinsic simplicity is that without any help,
save a few very ordinary deductions, I was able to lay
my hand upon the criminal within three days.”

“ That is true,” said I.

“T have already explained to you that what is out of
the common is usually a guide rather than a hindrance.
In solving a problem of this sort, the grand thing is to
be able to reason backward. ‘That is a very useful ac-
complishment and a very easy one, but people do not
practice it much. In the every-day affairs of life it is
more useful to reason forward, and so the other comes
to be neglected. There arc fifty who can reason syn-
thetically for one who can reasou: analytically.”

“T confess,” said I, “that I do not quite follow you.”

“Y¥ hardly expected that you would. Let me see if I
can make it clear. Most people, if you describe a train
of events to them, will tell you what the result would
be. They can put those events together in their minds,
and argue from them that something will come to pass.

@ S8OLe IN SCARLE2. 169

There are few people, however, who, if you told them
a result, would be able to evolve from their own inner
consciousness what the steps were which led up to that
result. This power is what I mean when I talk of rea-
soning backward, or analytically.”

“TI understand,” said I.

“ Now, this was a case in which you were given the
result and had to find everything else for yourself. Now,
let me endeavor to show you the different steps in my
reasoning. To begin at the beginning. I approached
the house, as you know, on foot, and with my mind
entirely free from all impressions. I naturally began by
examining the road-way, and thers, as I have already ex-
plained to you, I saw clearly the marks of a cab, which, I
ascertained by inquiry, must have been there during the
night. I satisfied myself that it was a cab, and not a
private carriage, by the narrow gauge of the wheels.
The ordinary London growler is considerably less wide
than a gentleman’s brougham.

“This was the first point gained. I then walked
slowly down the garden path, which happened to be
composed of a clay soil, peculiarly suitable for taking
impressions. No doubt it appeared to you to be a mere
trampled line cf slush, but to my trained eyes every
mark upon its .urface had a meaning. There is no
branch of detective science which is so important and
so much neglected as the art of tracing footsteps. Hap-

170 A STUDY IN SCARLET.

pily, I have always laid great stress upon it, and much
practice has made it second nature to me. I saw the
heavy foot-marks of the constables, but I saw also the
tracks of the two men who had first passed through the
garden. It was easy to tell that they had been before
the others, because in places their marks had been en-
tirely obliterated by the others coming upon the top of |
them. In this way my second link was formed, which
told me that the nocturnal visitors were two in number,
one remarkable for his height (as I calculated from the
length of his stride) and the other fashionably dressed,
to judge from the small and elegant impression left by
his boots.

“On entering the house this last inference was con-
firmed. My well-booted man lay before me. The tali
one, then, had done the murder, if murder there was.
There was no wound upon the dead man’s person, but
the agitated expression upon his face assured me that
he had foreseen his fate before it came upon him. Men
who die from heart disease or any sudden natural cause
never by any chance exhibit agitation upon their feat-
ures. Having sniffed the dead man’s lips, I detected a
slightly sour smell, and I came to the conclusion that
he had had poison forced upon him. Again, I argued
that it had been forced upon him, from the hatred and
fear expressed upon his face. By the method of exclu-
sion I had arrived at this result, for no other hypothesis

A STUDY IN SCARLET, 172

would meet the facts. Do not imagine that it was a
very unheard-of idea. The forcible administration of ~
peison is by no means a new thing in criminal annals,
The cases of Dolsky, in Odessa, and of Leturier, in
Montpellier, will occur at once to any toxicologist.

“And now came the great question as to the reason
why. Robbery had not been the object of the murder,
for nothing was taken. Was it politics, then, or was it
a woman? ‘That was the question which confronted
me. I was inclined from the first to the latter supposi-
tion. Political assassins are only too glad to do their
work and to fly. This murder had, on the contrary,
been done most deliberately, and the perpetrator had
left his tracks all over the room, showing that he had
been there all the time. It must have been a private
wrong, and not a political one, which called for such a
methodical revenge. When the inscription was discov-
ered upon the wall I was more inclined than ever to my
opinion. The thing was too evidently a blind. When
the ring was found, however, it settled the question.
Clearly the murderer had used it to remind his victim of
some dead or absent woman. It was at this point that 1
asked Gregson whether he had inquired in his telegram
to Cleveland as to any particular point in Mr. Drebber’s
former career. He answered, you remember, in the
negative.

“I then proceeded to make a careful examination ef

‘72 A STUDY iN SCARLET.

the room, which confirmed me in my opinion as to the
murderer’s height, and furnished me with the additional
detail as to the Trichinopoly cigar and the length of his
nails. I had already come to the conclusion, since there
were no signs of a struggle, that the blood which cov-
ered the floor had burst from the murderer’s nose in his
excitement. I could perceive that the track of blood
coincided with the track of his feet. It is seldom that
any man, unless he is very full-blooded, breaks out in
this way through emotion, so I hazarded the opinion.
that the criminal was probably a robust and ruddy-faced
man. Events proved that I had judged correctly.

“ Having left the house, I proceeded to do what Greg-
son had neglected. I telegraphed to the head of the |
police at Cleveland, limiting my inquiry to the circum-
stances connected with the marriage of Enoch Drebber. .
The answer was conclusive. It told me that Drebber
had already applied for the protection of the law against
an old rival in love. named Jefferson Hope, and that
this same Hope was at present in Europe. I knew now
that I held the clue to the mystery in my hand, and all
that remained was to secure the murderer.

“‘T had already determined in my own mind that the
man who had walked into the house with Drebber was
none other than the man who had driven the cab. The
marks in the road showed me that the horse had wau-
dered on in a way which it would have been impossibie

A STUDY IN SCARLET. 173

had there been any one in charge of it. Where, then,
could the driver be, unless he were inside the house?
Again, it is absurd to suppose that any sane man would
carry out a deliberate crime under the very eyes, as it
were, of a third person, who was sure to betray him.
Lastly, supposing one man wished to dog another through
London, what better means could he adopt than to turn
cab-driver? All these considerations led me to the irre-
sistible conclusion that Jefferson Hope was to be found
among the jarveys of the metropolis.

“If he had been one there was no reason to believe
that he had ceased to be. On the contrary, from his
point of view, any sudden change would be likely to
draw attention to himself. He would probably, for a
time at least, continue to perform his duties. There
was no reason to suppose that he was going under an
assumed name. Why should he change his name ina
country where no one knew his original one? I there-
fore organized my street-arab detective corps, and sent
them systematically to every cab proprietor in London
until they ferreted out the man that I wanted. How
well they succeeded and how quickly I took advantage
of it are still fresh in your recollection. The murder of
Stangerson was an incident which was entirely unex-
pected, but which could hardly in any case have been
prevented. Through it, as you know, I came into pos-
session of the pills, the existence of which I had already

174 A STUDY IN SCARLET.

surmised. You see, the whole thing is a chain of logical .
sequences without a break or flaw.”

“Tt is wonderful!” Icried. ‘ Your merits should be
publicly recognized. You should publish an account
of the case. If you won't, I will for you.”

“You may do what you like, doctor,” he answered.
“See here!” he continued, handing a paper over to me;
“look at this!”

It was the “ Echo” for the day, and the paragraph to
which he pointed was devoted to the case in question.

“The public,” it said, “have lost a sensational treat
through the sudden death of the man Hope, who was
suspected of the murder of Mr. Enoch Drebber and of
Mr. Joseph Stangerson. The details of the case will
probably never be known now, though we are informed
upon good authority that the crime was the result of
an old-standing and romantic feud, in which love and
‘Mormonism bore a part. Itseems that both the victims .
belonged, in their younger days, to the Latter-Day
Saints, and Hope, the deceased prisoner, hails also from
Salt Lake City. If the case has had no other effect, it at
least brings out in the most striking manner the efficiency
of our detective police force, and will serve as a lesson to
all foreigners that they will do wisely to settle their
feuds at home, and not to carry them on to British soil.
It is an open secret that the credit of«this smart capture
belongs entirely to the well-known Scotland Yard offi

4 STUDY IN SCARLE?. 1975

cials, Messrs. Lestrade and Gregson. The man was ap-
prehended, it appears, in the rooms of a certain Mr.
Sherlock Holmes, who has himself, as an amateur, shown
some talent in the detective line, and who, with such in-
structors, may hope in time to attain to some degree of
their skill. It is expected that a testimonial of some
sort will be presented to the two officers as a fitting rec-
‘cognition of their services.”

“ Didn’t I tell you so when we started P” cried Sher.
lock Holmes, with a laugh. ‘“ That’s the result of all
our Study in Scarlet: to get them a testimonial!”

“Never mind,” I answered; “‘I have all the facts in
my journal, and the public shall know them. In the
meantime, you must make yourself contented by the
consciousness of success, like the Roman miser—

** Populus me sibilat, at mihi plaudo
Ipee domi simul ac nummos contemplar in area,’ ”

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