 Part 1 of the Adventures of the Priory School, from the return of Sherlock Holmes. This is a LibriVox recording. All LibriVox recordings are in the public domain. For more information or to volunteer, please visit LibriVox.org. Recording by Vivian Bush. The Return of Sherlock Holmes by Sir Arthur Conan Doyle. Adventure of the Priory School, Part 1. We have had some dramatic entrances and exits upon our small stage at Baker Street, but I cannot recall anything more sudden and startling than the first appearance of Thornycroft-Huckstable, MA, PhD, etc. His card, which seemed too small to carry the weight of his academic distinctions, preceded him by a few seconds, and then he entered himself, so large, so pompous, and so dignified, that he was the very embodiment of self-possession and solidity. And yet his first action, when the door had closed behind him, was to stagger against the table, once he slipped down upon the floor, and there was that majestic figure prostrate and insensible, upon our bare-skinned hearth-rug. We had sprung to our feet, and for a few moments we stared in silent amazement at this ponderous piece of wreckage, which told of some sudden and fatal storm far out on the ocean of life. Then Holmes hurried with a cushion for his head, an eye with brandy for his lips. The heavy white face was seamed with lines of trouble. The hanging pouches under the closed eyes were leadened in color. The loose mouth drooped deluriously at the corners. The rolling chins were unshaven. Collar and shirt bore the grime of a long journey, and the hair bristled unkept from the well-shaped head. It was a sorely stricken man who lay before us. What is it, Watson, asked Holmes? Absolute exhaustion. Possibly mere hunger and fatigue, said I, with my finger on the thready pulse, where the stream of life trickled thin and small. Returned ticket from Mackleton in the north of England said Holmes, drawing it from the watch-pocket. It is not twelve o'clock yet. He has certainly been an early starter. The puckered eyelids had begun to quiver, and now a pair of vacant gray eyes looked up at us. An instant later the man had scrambled onto his feet. His face crimson was shame. Forgive this weakness, Mr. Holmes. I have been a little overwrought. Thank you, if I might have a glass of milk and a biscuit. I have no doubt that I should be better. I came personally, Mr. Holmes, in order to ensure that you would return with me. I feared that no telegram would convince you of the absolute urgency of the case. When you are quite restored, I am quite well again. I cannot imagine how I came to be so weak. I wish you, Mr. Holmes, to come to Mackleton with me by the next train. My friend shook his head. My colleague, Dr. Watson, could tell you that we are very busy at present. I am retained in the case of the Farrar's documents, and the Abergaverny murder is coming up for trial. Only a very important issue could call me from London at present. Important, our visitor threw up his hands. Have you heard nothing of the abduction of the only son of the Duke of Holderness? What? The late cabinet minister? Exactly. We had tried to keep it out of the papers, but there was some rumor in the globe last night. We thought it might have reached your years. Holmes shot out his long, thin arm and picked out volume H in his encyclopedia of reference. Holderness, 6th of Duke, KG, PC, half the alphabet. Baron Beverley, Earl of Carston, dear me, what a list. Lord Lieutenant of Hallamsham, since 1900. Married Edith, daughter of Sir Charles Appledore, 1888. Heir and only child, Lord Saltire. Owns about 250,000 acres. Minerals in Lancashire and Wales. Address, Carleton House Terrace, Holderness Hall, Hallamshire. Carleton Castle, Banger, Wales. Lord of the Admiralty, 1872. Chief Secretary of State, 4. Well, well, this man is certainly one of the greatest subjects of the Crown. The greatest and perhaps the wealthiest. I am aware, Mr. Holmes, that you take a very high line in professional matters, and that you are prepared to work for the work's sake. I may tell you, however, that his grace has already intimated that a check for 5,000 pounds will be handed over to the person who can tell him where his son is, and another 1,000 to him who can name the man or men who have taken him. It is a princely offer, said Holmes. Watson, I think we shall accompany Dr. Huxtable back to the north of England. And now, Dr. Huxtable, when you have consumed that milk, you will kindly tell me what has happened, when it happened, how it happened, and finally, what Dr. Thornikroth Huxtable of the Priory School near Mackleton has to do with the matter, and why he comes three days after an event. Dr. Chen gives the date, to ask for my humble services. Our visitor had consumed his milk and biscuits. The light had come back to his eyes, and the color to his cheeks, as he set himself with great vigor and lucidity to explain the situation. I must inform you, gentlemen, that the Priory is a preparatory school, of which I am the founder and principal. Huxtable's sidelights on horse may possibly recall my name to your memories. The Priory is, without exception, the best and most select preparatory school in England. Lord Leverstoke, the Earl of Blackwater, Stoke Cathcart-Solmes, they have all entrusted their sons to me. But I felt that my school had reached its zenith when, weeks ago, the Duke of Holderness sent Mr. James Wilder, his secretary, with intimation that young Lord Saltire, ten years old, his only son in heir, was about to be committed to my charge. Little did I think that this would be the prelude to the most crushing misfortune of my life. On May 1st the boy arrived, that being the beginning of the summer term. He was a charming youth, and he soon fell into our ways. I may tell you, I trust that I am not indiscreet, but have confidences are absurd in such a case, that he was not entirely happy at home. It is an open secret that the Duke's married life had not been a peaceful one, and the matter had ended in a separation by mutual consent, the Duchess taking up her residence in the south of France. This had occurred very shortly before, and the boy's sympathies are known to have been strongly with his mother. He moped after her departure from Holderness Hall, and it was for this reason that the Duke desired to send him to my establishment. In a fortnight the boy was quite at home with us, and was apparently absolutely happy. He was last seen on the night of May 13th, that is the night of last Monday. His room was on the second floor, and was approached through another larger room, in which two boys were sleeping. These boys saw and heard nothing, so that it is quite certain that Young Saltire did not pass out that way. His window was open, and there is a stout ivy plant leading to the ground. We could trace no footmarks below, but it is sure that this is the only possible exit. His absence was discovered at seven o'clock on Tuesday morning. His bed had been slept in. He had dressed himself fully before going off, in his usual school suit of black Eden jacket and dark grey trousers. There were no signs that anyone had entered the room, and it is quite certain that anything in the nature of cries, or one's struggle, would have been heard, since Conter, the older boy in the inner room, is a very light sleeper. When Lord Saltire's disappearance was discovered, I at once called a role of the whole establishment, boys, masters, and servants. It was then that we ascertained that Lord Saltire had not been alone in his flight. Heidegger, the German master, was missing. His room was on the second floor, at the further end of the building, facing the same way as Lord Saltire's. His bed had also been slept in, but he had apparently gone away partly dressed, since his shirt and socks were lying on the floor. He had undoubtedly let himself down by the ivy, for we could see the marks of his feet where he had landed on the lawn. His bicycle was kept in a small shed beside this lawn, and it also was gone. He had been with me for two years, and came with the best references, but he was a silent morose man, not very popular either with masters or boys. No trace could be found of the fugitives, and now, on Thursday morning, we are as ignorant as we were on Tuesday. Inquiry was, of course, made it once at Holderness Hall. It is only a few miles away, and we imagine that, in some sudden attack of homesickness, he had gone back to his father, but nothing had been heard of him. The Duke is greatly agitated, and as to me, you have seen yourselves the state of nervous prostration to which the suspense and the responsibility have reduced me. Mr. Holmes, if ever you put forward your full powers, I implore you to do so now, for never in your life could you have a case which is more worthy of them. Sherlock Holmes had listened with the utmost intentness to the statement of the unhappy schoolmaster. His drawn brows and the deep fro between them showed that he needed no exhortation to concentrate all his attention upon a problem which, apart from the tremendous interest involved, must appeal so directly to his love of the complex and the unusual. He now drew out his notebook and jotted down one or two memoranda. You have been very remiss and not coming to me sooner, he said severely. You start me on my investigation with a very serious handicap. It is inconceivable, for example, that this ivy and this lawn would have yielded nothing to an expert observer. I am not to blame Mr. Holmes. His grace was extremely desirous to avoid all public scandal. He was afraid of his family unhappiness being dragged before the world. He is a deep horror of anything of the kind. But there has been some official investigation? Yes, sir, and it has proved most disappointing. An apparent clue was it once obtained since a boy and a young man were reported to have been seen leaving a neighboring station by an early train. Only last night we had news that the couple had been hunted down in Liverpool and they proved to have no connection whatever with the matter in hand. Then it was that in my despair and disappointment after a sleepless night I came straight to you by the early train. I suppose the local investigation was relaxed while this false clue was being followed up. It was entirely dropped. So that three days have been wasted. The affair has been most deplorably handled. I feel it and admit it. And yet the problem should be capable of ultimate solution. I shall be very happy to look into it. Have you been able to trace any connection between the missing boy and this German master? None at all. Was he in the master's class? No, he never exchanged a word with him so far as I know. That certainly is very singular. Had the boy a bicycle? No. Was there any other bicycle missing? No. Is that certain? Quite. Well now, you do not mean to seriously suggest that this German rode off upon a bicycle in the dead of night bearing the boy in his arms. Certainly not. Then what is the theory in your mind? The bicycle may have been a blind. It may have been hidden somewhere and the pair gone off on foot. Quite so, but it seems rather an absurd blind, is it not? Were there other bicycles in the shed? Several. What do you have not hidden a couple had he desired to give the idea that they had gone off upon them? I suppose he would. Of course he would. The blind theory won't do. But the incident is an admirable starting point for an investigation. After all, a bicycle is not an easy thing to conceal or to destroy. One other question. Did anyone call to see the boy on the day before he disappeared? No. Did he get any letters? Yes, one letter. From whom? From his father. Do you open the boy's letters? No. How do you know it was from the father? The coat of arms was on the envelope and it was addressed in the Duke's peculiar stiff hand. Besides, the Duke remembers having written. When he had a letter before that? Not for several days. Had he ever run from France? No, never. You see the point of my questions, of course. Either the boy was carried off by force or he went to his own free will. In the latter case, you would expect that some prompting from outside would be needed to make so young a lad do such a thing. If he has had no visitors, that prompting must have come in letters. How to find out who were his correspondents? I fear I cannot help you much. His only correspondent, so far as I know, was his own father. Who wrote to him on the very day of his disappearance? Were the relations between father and son very friendly? His grace is never very friendly with anyone. He is completely immersed in large public questions and is rather inaccessible to all ordinary emotions. But he was always kind to the boy in his own way. But the sympathies of the latter were with the mother? Yes. Did he say so? No. The Duke then? Good Heaven, no. Then how could you know? I have had some confidential talks with Mr. James Wilder, his Grace's secretary. It was he who gave me the information about Lord Saltaire's feelings. I see. By the way, that last letter of the Dukes, was it found in the boy's room after he was gone? No, he had taken it with him. I think, Mr. Holmes, it is time that we were leaving for Houston. I will order a four-wheeler. In a quarter of an hour we shall be at your service. If you were telegraphing home, Mr. Oxtable, it would be well to allow the people in your neighborhood to imagine that the inquiry is still going on in Liverpool, or wherever else that red herring led your pack. In the meantime, I will do a little quiet work at your own doors. And perhaps the scent is not so cold, but the two old hounds like Watson and myself may get a sniff of it. That evening found us in the cold, bracing atmosphere of the peak country, in which Dr. Oxtable's famous school is situated. It was already dark when we reached it. A card was lying on the hall table, and the butler whispered something to his master, who turned to us with agitation in every heavy feature. The Duke is here, said he. The Duke and Mr. Wilder are in the study. Come, gentlemen, and I will introduce you. I was, of course, familiar with the pictures of the famous statesman, but the man himself was very different from his representation. He was a tall and stately person, scrupulously dressed, with a drawn, thin face, and a nose which was grotesquely curved and long. His complexion was of a deadly pallor, which was more startling by contrast with a long, dwindling beard of vivid red, which flowed down over his white waistcoat and his watch chain gleaming through its fringe. Such was the stately presence who looked stonely at us from the center of Dr. Oxtable's hearth rug. Beside him stood a very young man whom I understood to be Wilder, the private secretary. He was small, nervous, alert, with intelligent light-blue eyes and mobile features. It was he who at once, in an incisive and positive tone, opened the conversation. I called this morning, Dr. Oxtable, too late to prevent you from starting for London. I learned that your object was to invite Mr. Sherlock Holmes to undertake the conduct of this case. His grace is surprised, Dr. Oxtable, that you should have taken such a step without consulting him. When I learned that the police had failed, his grace is by no means convinced that the police have failed. But surely, Mr. Wilder, you are well aware, Dr. Oxtable, that his grace is particularly anxious to avoid all public scandal. To take as few people as possible into his confidence. The matter can be easily remedied, said the brow-beaten doctor. Mr. Sherlock Holmes can return to London by the morning train. Hardly that, Dr., hardly that, said Holmes, in his blandest voice. This northern air is invigorating and pleasant, so I propose to spend a few days upon your moors, and to occupy my mind as best I may. Whether I have the shelter of your roof or the village in is, of course, for you to decide. You should see that the unfortunate doctor was in the last stage of indecision, from which he was rescued by the deep, sonorous voice of the red-bearded duke, which boomed out like a dinner-gong. I agree with Mr. Wilder, Dr. Oxtable, that you would have done wisely to consult me. But since Mr. Holmes has already been taken into your confidence, it would indeed be absurd that we should not avail ourselves of his services. Far from going to the end, Mr. Holmes, I should be pleased if you would come and stay with me at Holderness Hall. I thank your grace. For the purposes of my investigation, I think it would be wiser for me to remain at the scene of the mystery. Just as you like, Mr. Holmes, any information which Mr. Wilder I can give you is, of course, at your disposal. It will probably be necessary for me to see you at the hall, said Holmes. I would only ask you now, sir, whether you have formed any explanation in your own mind as to the mysterious disappearance of your son. No, sir, I have not. Excuse me if I allude to that which is painful to you, but I have no alternative. Do you think that the Duchess had anything to do with the matter? The great minister showed perceptible hesitation. I do not think so, he said at last. The other most obvious explanation is that the child has been kidnapped for the purpose of levying ransom. You have not had any demand of the sort? No, sir. One more question, your grace. I understood that you wrote to your son the day when this incident occurred. No, I wrote upon the day before. Exactly, but he received it on that day? Yes. Was there anything in your letter which might have unbalanced him or induced him to take such a step? No, sir, certainly not. Did you post that letter yourself? The nobleman's reply was interrupted by his secretary, who broke in with some heat. His grace is not in the habit of posting letters himself, said he. This letter was laid with others upon the study table, and I myself put them in the post-bag. You are sure this one was among them? Yes, I observed it. How many letters did your grace write that day? Twenty or thirty, I have a large correspondence. But surely this is somewhat irrelevant. Not entirely, said Holmes. For my own part, the Duke continued, I have advised the police to turn their attention to the south of France. I have already said I do not believe that the Duchess would encourage some monstrous inaction, but the lad had the most wrong-headed opinions, and it is possible that he may have fled to her, aided and abetted by this German. I think, Dr. Huxtable, that we will now return to the hall. I can see that there were other questions which Holmes would have wished to put, but the nobleman's abrupt manner showed that the interview was at an end. It was evident that to his intensely aristocratic nature this discussion of his intimate family affairs with a stranger was most abhorrent, and that he feared lest every fresh question would throw a fiercer light into the discreetly shadowed corners of his ducal history. When the nobleman and his secretary had left, my friend flung himself at once with characteristic eagerness into the investigation. The boy's chamber was carefully examined, and yielded nothing save the absolute conviction that it was only through the window that he could have escaped. The German master's room and effects gave no further clue. In his case a trailer of ivy had given way under his weight, and we saw by the light of a lantern the mark on the lawn where his heels had come down. That one dent in the short, green grass was the only material witness left of this inexplicable nocturnal flight. Sherlock Holmes left the house alone, and only returned after eleven. He had obtained a large ordinance map of the neighborhood, and this he brought into my room where he laid it out on the bed, and having balanced the lamp in the middle of it, he began to smoke over it, and occasionally to point out objects of interest with the reeking amber of his pipe. This case grows upon me Watson, said he. There decidedly some points of interest in connection with it. In this early stage, I want you to realize those geographical features which may have a good deal to do with our investigation. Look at this map. This dark square is the priory school. I'll put a pin in it. Now this line is the main road. It runs east and west past the school, and you see also that there is no side road for a mile either way. If these two folk passed away by road, it was this road. Exactly. By a singular and happy chance, we're able to some extent to check what passed along this road during the night in question. At this point where my pipe is now resting, a country constable was on duty from twelve to six. It is, as you perceive, the first crossroad on the east side. This man declares that he was not absent from his post for an instant, and he is positive that neither boy nor man could have gone that way unseen. I have spoken with this policeman tonight, and he appears to me to be a perfectly reliable person. That blocks this end. We now have to deal with the other. There is an inn here, the red bull, the landlady of which was ill. She had sent to Mackleton for a doctor, but he did not arrive until morning, being absent at another case. The people at the inn were alert all night, awaiting his coming, and one or the other of them seems to continually had an eye upon the road. They declare that no one passed. If their evidence is good, then we are fortunate enough to be able to block the west, and also to be able to say that the fugitives did not use the road at all. But the bicycle, I objected. Quite so. We will come to the bicycle presently. To continue our reasoning, if these people did not go by the road, they must have traversed the country to the north of the house, or to the south of the house. That is certain. Let us weigh the one against the other. On the south of the house is, as you perceive, a large district of arable land cut up into small fields with stone walls between them. There, I admit that a bicycle is impossible. We can dismiss the idea. We turn now to the country on the north. Here there lies a grove of trees, marked as the ragged shaw, and on the further side, stretches a great rolling moor, lower gill moor, extending for ten miles and sloping gradually upward. Here, one side of this wilderness is Holderness Hall, ten miles by road, but only six across the moor. It is the peculiarly desolate plain. A few more farmers have small holdings, where they rear sheep and cattle. Except these, the plover and the curlew are the only inhabitants until you come to the Chesterfield High Road. There is a church there, you see, a few cottages, and an inn. Beyond that the hills become precipitous. Surely it is here to the north that our quest must lie. But the bicycle, I persisted. Well, well, said Holmes impatiently, a good cyclist does not need a high road. The moor is intersected with paths, and the moon was at the full. Hello, what's this? There was an agitated knock at the door, and an instant afterwards Dr. Huckstable was in the room. In his hand he held a blue cricket cap with a white chevron on the peak. At last we have a clue, he cried. Thank heaven! At last we are on the dear boy's track. It is his cap. Where was it found? In the van of the gypsies who camped on the moor. They left on Tuesday. Today the police traced them down and examined their caravan. This was the first time they found the caravan. This was found. How do they account for it? They shuffled and lied so that they found it on the moor on Tuesday morning. They know where he is, the rascals. Thank goodness they are all safe under lock and key. Either the fear of the law or the Duke's purse will certainly get out of them all that they know. So far so good said Holmes when the doctor had at last left the room. It at least bears out the theory that it is on the side of the lower Gilmore The police have really done nothing locally save the rest of these gypsies. Look here Watson. There is a water course across the moor. You see it marked here on the map. In some parts it widens into a morass. This is particularly so in the region between Holderness Hall and the school. It is vain to look elsewhere for tracks in this dry weather but at that point there is certainly a chance of some record being left. I will call you early tomorrow morning and you and I will try if we can throw some little light upon the mystery. The day was just breaking when I woke to find the long, thin form of Holmes by my bedside. He was fully dressed and had apparently already been out. I have done the lawn in the bicycle shed said he. I have also had a ramble through the ragged shaw. Now Watson there is Coco ready in the next room. I must beg you to hurry for we have a great day before us. His eyes shone and his cheek was flushed with the exhilaration of the master workman who sees his work lie ready before him. A very different Holmes, this active alert man from the introspective and pallid dreamer of Baker Street. I felt as I looked upon that supple figure alive with nervous energy that it was indeed a strenuous day that awaited us. And yet it opened in the blackest disappointment. With high hopes we struck across the P.D. Russet moor intersected with a thousand sheep paths until we came to the broad, light green belt which marked the morass between us and Holderness. Certainly if the lad had gone homeward he must have passed this and he could not pass it without leaving his traces. But no sign of him or the German could be seen. With a darkening face my friends strode along the margin, eagerly observant of every muddy stain upon the mossy surface. Sheep marks there were in profusion at one place some miles down cows had left their tracks. Nothing more. Check number one said Holmes, looking gloomily over the rolling expanse of the moor. There's another morass down yonder and a narrow neck between. Hello, hello, hello, what have we here? We'd come on a small black ribbon of pathway. In the middle of it clearly marked on the sodden soil was the track of a bicycle. Hurrah! I cried, we have it. But Holmes was shaking his head, and his face was puzzled and expectant rather than joyous. A bicycle, certainly, but not THE bicycle, said he. I am familiar with forty-two different impressions left by tires. This as you perceive is a dunlop with a patch upon the outer cover. Heidegger's tires were palmers leaving longitudinal stripes. Aveling, the mathematical master was sure upon the point. Therefore it is not Heidegger's track. The boy's then? Possibly if we could prove a bicycle to have been in his possession. But this we have utterly failed to do. This track, as you perceive, was made by a rider who was going from the direction of the school. Are towards it? No, no, my dear Watson. The more deeply sunk impression is, of course, the hind wheel, upon which the weight rests. You perceive several places where it has passed across and obliterated the more shallow mark of the front one. It was undoubtedly heading away from the school. It may or may not be connected with our inquiry, but we will follow it backwards before we go any farther. We did so, and at the end of a hundred yards lost the tracks as we emerged from the boggy portion of the moor. Following the path backwards, we picked out another spot where a spring trickled across it. Here, once again, was the mark of the bicycle, though nearly obliterated by the hooves of cows. After that there was no sign, but the path ran right on into ragged shaw, the wood which backed onto the school. From this wood the cycle must have emerged. Holmes sat down on a boulder and rested his chin in his hands. I had smoked two cigarettes before he moved. Well, well, said he at last. It is, of course, possible that a cunning man might change the tires of his bicycle in order to leave unfamiliar tracks. A criminal who is capable of such a thought is a man whom I should be proud to do business with. We will leave this question undecided and heart back to our morass again, for we have left a good deal unexplored. We continued our systematic survey of the edge of the sodden portion of the moor, and soon our perseverance was gloriously rewarded. Right across the lower part of the bog lay our mirey path. Holmes gave a cry of delight as he approached it, and an impression like a fine bundle of telegraph wires ran down the center of it. It was the Palmer Tires. Here is Eric Heidegger, sure enough, cried Holmes exultantly. My reasoning seems to have been pretty sound, Watson. I congratulate you. But we have a long way still to go. Kindly walk clear of the path. Now let us follow the trail. I fear it will not lead very far. We found, however, as we advance that this portion of the moor is intersected with soft patches, and though we frequently lost sight of the track, we always succeeded in picking it up once more. Do you observe, said Holmes, that the rider is now undoubtedly forcing the pace? There can be no doubt of it. Look at this impression where you get both tires clear. The one is as deep as the other. That can only mean that the rider is throwing his weight onto the handlebar, as a man does when he is sprinting. By Jove, he has had a fall. There was a broad, irregular smudge covering some yards of the track. Then there were a few footmarks, and the tires reappeared once more. A side slip, I suggested. Holmes held up a crumpled branch of flowering gorse. To my horror, I perceived that the yellow blossoms were all dabbled with crimson. On the path, too, and among the heather were dark stains of clotted blood. Bad, said Holmes. Bad! Stand clear, Watson, by a footstep. What do I read here? He fell wounded. He stood up. He remounted. He proceeded. But there was no other track. Cattle on the side path. He was surely not gored by a bull. Impossible. But I see no traces of anyone else. We must push on, Watson. Surely with stains, as well as the track to guide us, the tire began to curve fantastically upon the wet and shining path. Suddenly, as I looked ahead, the gleam of metal caught my eye from amid the thick gorse bushes. Out of them, we dragged a bicycle, Palmer-tired, one petal bent, and the whole front of it horribly smeared and slobbered with blood. On the other side of the bushes, a shoe was projecting. We ran round, and there lay the unfortunate rider. He was a tall man, one of the girls, one glass of which had been knocked out. The cause of his death was a frightful blow upon the head, which had crushed in part of his skull. That he could have gone on after receiving such an injury said much for the vitality and courage of the man. He wore shoes but no socks, and his open coat disclosed a night-shirt beneath it. It was undoubtedly the German master. Holmes turned the body over reverently, and examined it with great attention. He then sat in deep thought for a time, and I could see by his ruffled brow that this grim discovery had not, in his opinion, advanced us much in our inquiry. It is a little difficult to know what to do Watson, said he at last. My own inclinations are to push this inquiry on, for we have already lost so much time that we cannot afford to waste another hour. On the other hand, we are bound to inform the police of the discovery and to see that this poor fellow's body is looked after. I could take a note back, but I need your company and assistance. Wait a bit. There is a fellow cutting peed up yonder. Bring him over here, and he will guide the police. I brought the peasant across, and Holmes dispatched the frightened man with a note to Dr. Huxtable. End of The Adventure of the Priory School, Part 1, Recording by Vivian Bush, Houston, Texas, on June 25, 2007. Part 2 of The Adventures of the Priory School from the return of Sherlock Holmes, this is a LibriVox recording. All LibriVox recordings are in the public domain. For more information or to volunteer, please visit LibriVox.org. Recording by Vivian Bush, the return of Sherlock Holmes by Sir Arthur Conan Doyle, Adventure of the Priory School, Part 2. Now Watson, said he, we have picked up two clues this morning. One is the bicycle with the palm retire, and we see what that has led to. The other is the bicycle with the palm retire, and we see what that has led to. The other is the bicycle with the patched dunlop. Before we start to investigate that, let us try to realize what we do know so as to make the most of it and to separate the essential from the accidental. First of all, I wish to impress upon you that the boy certainly left his own free will. He got down from his window and he went off, either alone or with someone. That is sure. I assented. Well now, let us turn to this unfortunate German master. The boy was fully dressed when he fled. Therefore he foresaw what he would do. But the German went without his socks. He certainly acted on very short notice. Undoubtedly. Why did he go? Because from his bedroom window he saw the flight of the boy because he wished to overtake him and bring him back. He seized his bicycle, pursued the lad, and in pursuing him met his death. So it would seem. Now I come to the critical part of my argument. The natural action of a man in pursuing a little boy would be to run after him. He would know that he could overtake him. But the German does not do so. He turns to his bicycle. I am told that he was an excellent cyclist. He would not do this if he did not see that the boy had some swift means of escape. The other bicycle. Let us continue our reconstruction. He meets his death five miles from the school, not by a bullet, Mark you, which even a lad might conceivably discharge, but by a savage blow dealt by a vigorous arm. The lad then had a companion in his flight. And the flight was a swift one since it took five miles before an expert cyclist could overtake them. Yet we surveyed the ground around the scene of the tragedy. What do we find? A few cattle tracks, nothing more. I took a wide sweep round in fifty yards. Another cyclist could have had nothing to do with the actual murder, nor were there any human foot marks. Holmes I cried, this is impossible. Admiral he said, a most illuminating remark. It is impossible as I stated and therefore I must in some respect have stated it wrong. Yet you saw for yourself. Can you suggest any fallacy? He could not have fractured his skull from a wrasse Watson. I am at my wits end. Tut tut, we have solved some worse problems. At least we have plenty of material if we can only use it. Come then, and having exhausted the palmer, let us see what the Dunlop with the patch cover has to offer us. We picked up the track and followed it onward for some distance, but soon the moor rose into a long, heather-tufted curve and we left the water course behind us. No further help from tracks could be hoped for. At the spot where we saw the last of the Dunlop tire, it might equally have led to Holderness Hall, the stately towers of which rose some miles to our left, or to a low grey village which lay in front of us and marked the position of the Chesterfield High Road. As we approached the forbidding and squalid inn, with a sign of a game cock above the door, Holmes gave a sudden groan and clutched me by the shoulder to save himself from falling. The violent strains of the angle which leave a man helpless. With difficulty he limped to the door where a squat, dark, elderly man was smoking a black clay pipe. How are you, Mr. Rubin Hayes? said Holmes. Who are you? And how do you get my name so pat? the countryman answered with the suspicious flash of a pair of cutting eyes. Well, it's printed on the board above your head. It's easy to see a man who is master of his own house. You haven't such a thing as a carriage in your stables. No, I have not. I can hardly put my foot to the ground. Don't put it to the ground. But I can't walk. Well, then hop. Mr. Rubin Hayes' manner was far from gracious, but Holmes took it with admirable good humor. Look here my man said he. This is really rather an awkward fix for me. I don't mind how I get on. Neither do I, said the morose landlord. The matter is very important. I would offer you a sovereign for the use of a bicycle. The landlord pricked up his ears. Where do you want to go? To Holderness Hall? Pals of the Duke, I suppose, to the landlord surveying our mud-stained garments with ironical eyes. Holmes laughed good-naturedly. He'll be glad to see us anyhow. Why? Because we bring him news of his lost son. The landlord gave a very visible start. What? You're on his track? He has been heard of in Liverpool. They expect to get him every hour. Again a swift change passed over the heavy, unshaven face. His manner was suddenly genial. I have less reason to wish the Duke well than most men, said he, for I was head coachman once, and cruel bad he treated me. It was him that sacked me without a character on the word of a lying corn chandler. But I'm glad to hear that the young lord was heard of in Liverpool, and I'll help you to take the news to the hall. Thank you, said Holmes. We'll have some food first. Then you can bring round the bicycle. I haven't got a bicycle. Holmes held up a sovereign. I tell you, man, that I haven't got one. I'll let you have two horses as far as the hall. Well, well, said Holmes. We'll talk about it when we've had something to eat. When we were left alone in the stone-flagged kitchen, it was astonishing how rapidly that sprained ankle recovered. It was nearly nightfall, and we had eaten nothing since early morning, so that we spent some time over our meal. Holmes was lost in thought, and once or twice he walked over to the window and stared earnestly out. It opened onto a squalid courtyard. In the far corner was a smithy where a grimy lad was at work. On the other side were the stables. Holmes had sat down again after one of these excursions, when he suddenly sprang out of his chair with a loud exclamation. By Heaven, Watson, I believe I've got it, he cried. Yes, yes, it must be so. Watson, do you remember seeing any cow tracks today? Yes, several. Where? Well, everywhere. They were at the morass, and again on the path, and again near where poor High-Digger met his death. Exactly. Well, now, Watson, how many cows did you see on the moor? I don't remember seeing any. Strange, Watson, that we should see tracks all along our line, but never a cow on the whole moor. Very strange, Watson. Eh? Yes, it is strange. Now, Watson, make an effort. Throw your mind back. Can you see those tracks upon the path? Yes, I can. Can you recall that the tracks were sometimes like this, Watson? He arranged a number of breadcrumbs in this fashion. Dot, dot, dot, dot, dot. And sometimes like this, dot, dot, dot, dot, dot. And occasionally like this, dot, dot, dot, dot, dot, dot. Can you remember that? No, I cannot. But I can. I could swear to it. However, we will go back at our leisure and verify it. What a blind beetle I have been, not to draw my conclusion. And what is your conclusion? Only that it is a very remarkable cow with its walks, cantors, and gallops. By George, Watson, it was no brain of a country publican that thought out such a blind as that. The coast seems to be clear. Say for that lad in the smithy. Let us slip out and see what we can see. There were two rough-haired, unkept horses in the tumbledown stable. Homes raised the hind leg of one of them and laughed aloud. Old shoes but newly shod. Old shoes but new nails. This case deserves to be a classic. Let us go across to the smithy. The lad continued his work without regarding us. I saw Holmes' eyes darting to right and left among the litter of iron and wood which was scattered about the floor. Suddenly, however, we heard a step behind us. And there was the landlord, his heavy eyebrows drawn over savage eyes, his swarthy features convulsed with passion. He held a short, metal-headed stick in his hand. And he advanced in so menacing a fashion that I was right glad to feel the revolver in my pocket. You infernal spies, the man cried. What are you doing there? Why, Mr. Reuben Hayes said Holmes Cooley. One might think you were afraid of our finding something out. The man mastered himself with a violent effort and his grim mouth loosened into a false laugh which was more menacing than his frown. You're welcome to all you can find out in my smithy city. But look here, Mr. I don't care for folk poking about my place without my leave. So the sooner you pay your score and get out of this, the better I shall be pleased. All right, Mr. Hayes, no harm meant, said Holmes. We've been having a look at your horses, but I think I'll walk, after all. It's not far, I believe. Not more than two miles to the hall gates. That's the road to the left. He watched us with sullen eyes until we had left his premises. We did not go very far along the road, but Holmes stopped the instant that the curve hit us from the landlord's view. We were warm, as the children say, at that inn, said he. I seem to grow colder every step that I take away from it. No, no, I can't possibly leave it. I am convinced, said I, that this Reuben Hayes knows all about it, a more self-evident villain I never saw. Oh, he impressed you that way, did he? There are the horses. There is the smithy. Yes, it is an interesting place, this fighting cock. I think we shall have another look at it in an unobtrusive way. A long, sloping hillside dotted with grey limestone boulders stretched behind us. We had turned off the road and were making our way up the hill. When looking in the direction of Holderness Hall, I saw a cyclist coming swiftly along. Get down, Watson, cried Holmes, with a heavy hand upon my shoulder. We had hardly sunk from view when the man flew past us on the road. Amid a rolling cloud of dust, I caught a glimpse of a pale, agitated face, a face with horror in every liniment, the mouth open, the eyes staring wildly in front. It was like some strange caricature of the dapper James Wilder, whom we had seen the night before. The Duke's secretary, cried Holmes, come Watson, let us see what he does. We scrambled from rock to rock until in a few moments we had made our way to a point from which we could see the front door of the inn. Wilder's bicycle was leaning against the wall beside it. No one was moving about the house, nor could we catch a glimpse of any faces in the windows. Slowly the twilight crept down as the sun sank behind the high towers of Holderness Hall. Then, in the gloom, we saw the two side lamps of a chap in the stable yard of the inn, and shortly afterwards heard the rattle of hooves as it wheeled out into the road and tore off at a furious pace in the direction of Chesterfield. What do you make of that, Watson? Holmes whispered. It looks like a flight. A single man in a dog cart so far as I could see. Well, it certainly was not Mr. James Wilder, for there he is at the door. A red square of light had sprung out of the darkness. In the middle of it was the black figure of the secretary, his head advanced, peering out into the night. It was evident that he was expecting someone. Then at last there were steps in the road. A second figure was visible for an instant against the light. The door shut, and all was black once more. Five minutes later a lamp was lit in a room upon the first floor. It seems to be a curious class of custom that is done by the fighting cocks at Holmes. The bar is on the other side. Quite so. These are what one might call the private guests. Now what in the world is Mr. James Wilder doing in that den at this hour of night? And who is the companion who comes to meet him there? Come, Watson, we must really take a risk and try to investigate this a little more closely. Together we stole down to the road and crept across to the door of the inn. The bicycle still leaned against the wall. Holmes struck a match and held it to the back wheel, and I heard him chuckle as the light fell upon a patched Dunlop tire. Up above us was the lighted window. I must have a peep through that Watson. If you bend your back and support yourself upon the wall I think that I can manage. An instant later his feet were on my shoulders, but he was hardly up before he was down again. Come, my friend, said he. Our day's work has been quite long enough. I think that we have gathered all that we can. It's a long walk to the school, and the sooner we get started the better. He hardly opened his lips during that weary trudge across the moor, nor when he entered the school when he reached it, but went on to Mackleton Station whence he could send some telegrams. Late at night I heard him consoling Dr. Huxtable, prostrated by the tragedy of his master's death, and later still he entered my room as alert and vigorous as he had been when he started in the morning. All goes well, my friend, said he. I promise that before tomorrow evening we shall have reached the solution of the mystery. At eleven o'clock the next morning my friend and I were walking up the famous Eew Avenue of Holerness Hall. We were ushered through the magnificent Elizabethan doorway and into his grace's study. There we found Mr. James Wilder, Jamir and Cortley, but with some trace of that wild terror of the night before, still lurking in his furtive eyes and in his twitching features. You have come to see his grace? Sorry, but the fact is that the Duke is far from well. He's been very much upset by the tragic news. We received a telegram from Dr. Huxtable yesterday afternoon, which told us of your discovery. I must see the Duke, Mr. Wilder, but he is in his room. Then I must go to his room. I believe he is in his bed. I will see him there. Holmes' cold and inexorable manner showed the secretary that it was useless to argue with him. Very good, Mr. Holmes. I will tell him that you are here. After an hour's delay, the great nobleman appeared. His face was more cadaverous than ever, his shoulders had rounded, and he seemed to me an altogether older man than he had been the morning before. He greeted us with a stately courtesy and seated himself at his desk, his red beard streaming down on the table. Well, Mr. Holmes said he? But my friend's eyes were fixed upon the secretary who stood by his master's chair. I think, Your Grace, that I could speak more freely in Mr. Wilder's absence. The man turned to shade paler and cast a belignant glance at Holmes. If Your Grace wishes. Yes, yes, you had better go. Now, Mr. Holmes, what have you to say? My friend waited until the door had closed behind the retreating secretary. The fact is, Your Grace, said he, that my colleague Dr. Watson and myself had an assurance from Dr. Huxtable that a reward had been offered in this case. I should like to have this confirmed from your own lips. Certainly, Mr. Holmes. It amounted, if I am correctly informed, to five thousand pounds to anyone who will tell you where your son is. Exactly. And another thousand to the man who will name the person or persons who keep him in custody. Exactly. Under the latter heading is included, no doubt, not only those who may have taken him away, but also those who conspired to keep him in his present position. Yes, yes, cried the Duke impatiently. If you do your work well, Mr. Sherlock Holmes, you will have no reason to complain of niggardly treatment. My friend rubbed his thin hands together with an appearance of avidity, which was a surprise to me, who knew his frugal taste. I fancy that I see your Grace's checkbook upon the table, said he. I should be glad if you would make me out of check for six thousand pounds. It would be as well, perhaps, for you to cross it. The capital and county's bank, Oxford Street branch, are my agents. His grace sat very stern and upright in his chair, and looked stonely at my friend. Is this a joke, Mr. Holmes? It is hardly a subject for pleasantry. Not at all, your Grace. I was never more in earnest in my life. What do you mean, then? I mean that I have earned the reward. I know where your son is, and I know some, at least, of those who are holding him. He was aggressively red than ever against his ghastly white face. Where is he, he gasped? He is, or was, last night at the fighting cock-in about two miles from your park gate. The duke fell back in his chair. And whom do you accuse? Sherlock Holmes' answer was an astounding one. He stepped swiftly forward and touched the duke upon the shoulder. I accuse you, said he. And now, your Grace, I'll trouble you for that check. Never shall I forget the duke's appearance as he sprang up and clawed with his hands, like one who was sinking into an abyss. Then was an extraordinary effort of aristocratic self-command. He sat down and sank his face in his hands. It was some minutes before he spoke. How much do you know, he asked at last, without raising his head? I saw you together last night. Does anyone else beside your friend know? I have spoken to no one. The duke took a pen in his quivering fingers and opened his checkbook. I shall be as good as my word, Mr. Holmes. I am about to write you a check. However, unwelcome the information which you have gained may be to me. When the offer was first made, I little thought the turn which events might take. But you and your friend are men of discretion, Mr. Holmes. I hardly understand, your Grace. I must put it plainly, Mr. Holmes. If only you two know of this incident, there is no reason why it should go any farther. I think twelve thousand pounds is the sum that I owe you, is it not? But Holmes smiled and shook his head. I fear, your Grace, that matters can hardly be arranged so easily. There is the death of this schoolmaster to be accounted for. But James knew nothing of that. You cannot hold him responsible for that. It was the work of this brutal ruffian whom he had the misfortune to employ. I must take the view, your Grace, that when a man embarks upon a crime, he is morally guilty of any other crime which may spring from it. Morally, Mr. Holmes, no doubt you are right. But surely not in the eyes of the law. A man cannot be condemned for a murder at which he was not present, and which he loathes and abhors as much as you do. The instant that he heard of it he made a complete confession to me. So filled was he with horror and remorse. He lost not an hour in breaking entirely with the murderer. Oh, Mr. Holmes, you must save him. You must save him. I tell you that you must save him. The Duke had dropped the last attempt at self-command, and was pacing the room with a convulsed face and with clenched hands raving in the air. At last he mastered himself and sat down once more at his desk. I appreciate your conducting coming here before you spoke to anyone else, said he. At least we may take counsel how far we can minimize this hideous scandal. Exactly, said Holmes, I think, your Grace, that this can only be done by absolute frankness between us. I am disposed to help your Grace to the best of my ability, but in order to do so I must understand to the last detail how the matter stands. I realize that your words apply to Mr. James Wilder and that he is not the murderer. No, the murderer has escaped. Sherlock Holmes smiled demurely. Your Grace can hardly have heard of any small reputation which I possess, or you would not imagine that it is so easy to escape me. Mr. Reuben Hayes was arrested at Chesterfield on my information at eleven o'clock last night. I had a telegram from the head of the local police before I left the school this morning. The Duke leaned back in his chair and stared with amazement at my friend. You seem to have powers that are hardly humans, said he. So Reuben Hayes is taken. I am right glad to hear it if it will not react upon the fate of James. Your secretary? No, sir, my son. It was Holmes' turn to look astonished. I confess that this is entirely new to me, your Grace. I must beg you to be more explicit. I will conceal nothing from you. I agree with you that complete frankness, however painful it may be to me, is the best policy in this desperate situation to which James folly and jealousy have reduced us. When I was a very young man, Mr. Holmes, I loved with such a love as comes only once in a lifetime. I offered the lady marriage, but she refused it on the grounds that such a match might mar my career. When she lived I would certainly never have married anyone else. She died, and left this one child, whom for her sake I have cherished and cared for. I could not acknowledge the paternity to the world, but I gave him the best of educations, and since he came to manhood I have kept him near my person. He surprised my secret, and has presumed ever since upon the claim which he has upon me, and upon his power of provoking a scandal which would be abhorrent to me. Holmes had something to do with the unhappy issue of my marriage. Above all he hated my young legitimate heir from the first with a persistent hatred. You may well ask me why, under these circumstances, I still kept James under my roof. I answered that it was because I could see his mother's face in his, that for her dear sake there was no end to my long suffering. All her pretty ways, too, there was not one of them which he could not suggest and bring back to my memory. I could not send him away, but I feared so much lest he should do Arthur, that as Lord Saltire, a mischief, that I dispatched him for safety to Dr. Huckstable's school. James came into contact with this fellow haze because the man was a tenant of mine, and James acted as agent. The fellow was a rascal from the beginning, but in some extraordinary way James became intimate with him. He had always a taste for low company. When James determined to kidnap Lord Saltire, it was of this man's service that he availed himself. You remember that I wrote to Arthur upon that last day. Well, James opened the letter and inserted a note, asking Arthur to meet him in a little wood called the Ragged Shaw, which is near this school. He used the Duchess's name, and in that way got the boy to come. That evening James bicycled over. I am telling you what he has himself confessed to me, and he told Arthur whom he met in the wood, that his mother longed to see him, that she was awaiting him on the moor, and that if he would come back into the wood at midnight, he would find a man with a horse who would take him to her. Poor Arthur fell into the trap. He came to the appointment and found this fellow haze with a lead pony. Arthur mounted, and they set off together. It appears, though this James only heard yesterday, that they were pursued, that haze struck the pursuer with his stick, that the man died of his injuries. Haze brought Arthur to his public house, the Fighting Cock, for he was confined in an upper room, under the care of Mrs. Haze, who was a kindly woman, but entirely under the control of her brutal husband. Well, Mr. Holmes, that was the state of affairs when I first saw you two days ago. I had no more idea of the truth than you. You will ask me what was James' motive in doing such a deed. I answer that there was a great deal which was unreasoning and fanatical in the hatred which he bore my heir. In his view he should himself have been heir of all my estates, and he deeply resented those social laws which made it impossible. At the same time he had a definite motive also. He was eager that I should break the entail, and he was of the opinion that it lay in my power to do so. He intended to make a bargain with me, to restore Arthur if I would break the entail, and so make it possible for the estate to be left to him by will. He knew well that I should never willingly invoke the aid of the police against him. I say that he would have proposed such a bargain to me, but he did not actually do so, for events moved too quickly for him, and he had not time to put his plans into practice. What brought all this wicked scheme to wreck was your discovery of this man's hide-ecker's dead body. James was seized with horror at the news. It came to us yesterday as we sat together in this study. Dr. Huxtable had sent a telegram. James was so overwhelmed with grief and agitation that my suspicions, which never been entirely absent, rose instantly to a certainty, and I taxed him with the deed. He made a complete voluntary confession. Then he implored me to keep his secret for three days longer so as to give his wretched accomplice the chance at saving his guilty life. I yielded, as I have always yielded, to his prayers, and instantly James hurried off to the fighting cock to warn Hayes and give him the means of flight. I could not go there by daylight without provoking comment, but as soon as night fell I hurried off to see my dear Arthur. I found him safe and well, but horrified beyond expression by the dreadful deed he had witnessed. In deference to my promise, and much against my will, I consented to leave him there for three days under the charge of Mrs. Hayes, since it was evident that it was impossible to inform the police where he was without telling them also who was the murderer, and I could not see how that murderer would be punished without ruin to my unfortunate James. You asked for frankness, Mr. Holmes, and I have taken you at your word, for I have now told you everything without an attempt at circumlocution or concealment. Do in your turn be as frank with me. I will, said Holmes. In the first place, Your Grace, I am bound to tell you that you have placed yourself in a most serious position in the eyes of the law. You have condoned a felony, and you have aided the escape of a murderer, and I cannot doubt that any money which was taken by James Wilder to aid his accomplice in his flight came from Your Grace's purse. The Duke bowed his assent. This is indeed a most serious matter. Even more culpable, in my opinion, Your Grace, is your attitude toward your younger son. You leave him in the stint for three days under solemn promises. What are promises to such people as these? You have no guarantee that he will not be spirited away again. To humor your guilty elder son, you have exposed your innocent younger son to imminent and unnecessary danger. It is a most unjustifiable action. The proud Lord of Holderness was not accustomed to being so raided in his own dookal hall. The blood flushed into his high forehead, but his conscience hailed him dumb. I will help you, but on one condition only. It is that you ring for the footman and let me give such orders as I like. Without a word, the Duke pressed the electric bell. A servant entered. You will be glad to hear, said Holmes, that your young master is found. It is the Duke's desire that the carriage shall go at once to the fighting cock-in to bring Lord Saltire home. Now, said Holmes, when their rejoicing lackey had disappeared, having secured the future, we can afford to be more lenient with the past. I am not in an official position, and there is no reason so long as the ends of justice are served, while I should disclose all that I know. As to Hayes, I say nothing. The gallows await him, and I would do nothing to save him from it. What he will divulge I cannot tell, but I have no doubt that your grace could make him understand that it is in his interest to be silent. From the police point of view, he will have kidnapped the boy for purpose of ransom. If they do not themselves find it out, I see no reason why I should prompt them to take a broader point of view. I would warn your grace, however, that the continued presence of Mr. James Wilder in your household can only lead to misfortune. I understand that, Mr. Holmes, and it is already settled that he shall leave me forever and go to seek his fortune in Australia. In that case, your grace, since you have yourself stated that any unhappiness in your married life was caused by his presence, I would suggest that you make such amends as you can to the Duchess, and that you try to resume those relations which have been so unhappily interrupted. That also I have arranged, Mr. Holmes. I wrote to the Duchess this morning. In that case, said Holmes Rising, I think that my friend and I can congratulate ourselves upon several most happy results from our little visit to the North. There is one other small point upon which I desire some light. This fellow haze had shot his horses with shoes which counterfeited the tracks of cows. Was it for Mr. Wilder that he learned so extraordinary a device? The Duke stood and thought for a moment with a look of intense surprise on his face. Then he opened a door that showed us into a large room furnished as a museum. He led the way to a glass case in a corner and pointed to the inscription. These shoes, it ran, were dug up in the mode of Holderness Hall. They are for the use of horses, but they are shaped below with a cloven foot of iron, so as to throw pursuers off the track. They are supposed to have belonged to some of the marauding barons of Holderness in the Middle Ages. Holmes opened the case and, moistening his finger, he passed it along the shoe. A thin film of recent mud was left upon his skin. Thank you, said he, as he replaced the glass. It is the second most interesting object that I have seen in the north. And the first? Holmes folded up his check and placed it carefully in his notebook. I am a poor man, said he, as he padded it affectionately and thrust it into the depths of his inner pocket. End of the adventure of the Priory School Part II, recording by Vivian Bush, Houston, Texas, on June 25th, 2007. The Adventure of Black Peter, Part I, from The Return of Sherlock Holmes. This is a LibriVox recording. All LibriVox recordings are in the public domain. For more information or to volunteer, please visit LibriVox.org Recording by Laurie Ann Walden. The Return of Sherlock Holmes by Sir Arthur Conan Doyle. The Adventure of Black Peter, Part I, by Sir Arthur Conan Doyle. The Adventure of Black Peter, Part I, Part I. I have never known my friend to be in better form, both mental and physical, than in the year 95. His increasing fame had brought with it an immense practice. And I should be guilty of an indiscretion if I were even to hint at the identity of some of the illustrious client who crossed our humble threshold in Baker Street. Holmes, however, like all great artists, lived for his art's sake. And save in the case of the Duke of Holderness, I have seldom known him claim any large reward for his inestimable services. So unworldly was he, or so capricious, that he frequently refused his help to the powerful and wealthy where the problem made no appeal to his sympathies, while he would devote weeks of most intense application to the affairs of some humble client whose case presented those strange and dramatic qualities which appealed to his imagination and his ingenuity. In this memorable year 95, a curious and incongruous succession of cases had engaged his attention, ranging from his famous investigation of the sudden death of Cardinal Tosca, an inquiry which was carried out by him at the express desire of his holiness the Pope, down to his arrest of Wilson, the notorious Canary Trainer which removed a plague spot from the east end of London. Close on the heels of these two famous cases came the tragedy of Woodman's Lee and the very obscure circumstances which surrounded the death of Captain Peter Carey. No record of the doings of Mr. Sherlock Holmes would be complete which did not include some account of this very unusual affair. During the first week of July my friend had been absent so often and so long from our lodgings that I knew he had something on hand. The fact that several rough-looking men called during that time and inquired for Captain Basil made me understand that Holmes was working somewhere under one of the numerous disguises and names with which he concealed his own formidable identity. He had at least five small refuges in different parts of London in which he was able to change his personality. He said nothing of his business to me and it was not my habit to force a confidence. The first sign which he gave me of the direction which his investigation was taking was an extraordinary one. He had gone out before breakfast and I had sat down to mine when he strode into the room his hat upon his head and a huge barbed-headed spear tucked like an umbrella under his arm. Good gracious Holmes I cried you don't mean to say that you have been walking about London with that thing. I drove to the butchers in back. And I returned with an excellent appetite. There can be no question my dear Watson of the value of exercise before breakfast but I am prepared to bet that you will not guess the form that my exercise has taken. I will not attempt it. He chuckled as he poured out the coffee. If you could have looked into Allardyce's back shop you would have seen a dead pig swung from a hook in the ceiling and a gentleman in his shirt-sleeves obviously stabbing at it with this weapon. I was that energetic person and I have satisfied myself that by no exertion of my strength can I transfix the pig with a single blow. Perhaps you would care to try. Not for worlds but why were you doing this? Because it seemed to me to have an indirect bearing upon the mystery of Woodman's lee. Ah Hopkins, I got your wire last night our visitor was an exceedingly alert man thirty years of age dressed in a quiet tweed suit but retaining the erect bearing of one who was accustomed to official uniform I recognized him at once as Stanley Hopkins a young police inspector for whose future homes had high hopes while he in turn professed the admiration and respect of a pupil for the scientific methods of the famous amateur who was clouded and he sat down with an air of deep dejection. No thank you sir I breakfasted before I came round I spent the night in town for I came up yesterday to report and what had you to report? Failure sir Absolute failure You have made no progress? None Dear me I must have a look at the matter I wish to heavens that you would Mr. Holmes it's my first big chance and I am at my wits end for goodness sake come down and lend me a hand Well well it just happens that I have already read all the available evidence including the report of the inquest with some care by the way what do you make of that tobacco pouch found on the scene of the crime is there no clue there? Hopkins looked surprised it was the man's own pouch sir his initials were inside it and it was of seal skin and he was an old sealer but he had no pipe No sir we could find no pipe indeed he smoked very little and yet he might have kept some tobacco for his friends No doubt I only mention it because if I had been handling the case I should have been inclined to make that the starting point of my investigation however my friend Dr. Watson knows nothing of this matter and I should be none the worse for hearing the sequence of events once more just give us some short sketches of the essentials Stanley Hopkins drew a slip of paper from his pocket I have a few dates here which will give you the career of the dead man Captain Peter Carey he was born in 45 50 years of age he was a most daring and successful seal and whale fisher in 1883 he commanded the sealer C. Unicorn of Dundee he had then had several successful voyages in succession and in the following year 1884 he retired after that he traveled for some years and finally he bought a small place called Woodman's Lee near Forest Row in Sussex there he has lived for six years and there he died just a week ago today there were some most singular points about the man if he was a strict Puritan a silent gloomy fellow his household consisted of his wife his daughter aged 20 and two female servants these last were continually changing for it was never a very cheery situation and sometimes it became past all-bearing the man was an intermittent drunkard and when he had the fit on him he was a perfect fiend he has been known to drive his wife and daughter out of doors in the middle of the night he would flog them through the park until the whole village outside the gates was aroused by their screams he was summoned once for a savage assault upon the old vicar who had called upon him to remonstrate with him upon his conduct in short, Mr. Holmes, you would go far before you found a more dangerous man than Peter Carey and I have heard that he bore the same character when he commanded his ship he was known in the trade as Black Peter and the name was given him not of his swarthy features and the color of his huge beard but for the humors which were the terror of all around him I need not say that he was loathed and avoided by every one of his neighbors and that I have not heard one single word of sorrow about his terrible end you must have read in the account of the inquest about the man's cabin, Mr. Holmes but perhaps your friend here has not heard of it he had built himself a wooden outhouse he always called it the cabin a few hundred yards from his house and it was here that he slept every night it was a little single roomed hut sixteen feet by ten he kept the key in his pocket made his own bed cleaned it himself and allowed no other foot to cross the threshold there are small windows on each side which were covered by curtains and never opened one of these windows was turned towards the high road and when the light burned in it at night we were headed out to each other and wonder what black peter was doing in there that's the window, Mr. Holmes which gave us one of the few bits of positive evidence that came out at the inquest you remember that a stone mason named Slater walking from forest row about one o'clock in the morning two days before the murder stopped as he passed the grounds and looked at the square of light still shining among the trees he swears that the shadow of a man's head was clearly visible on the blind and that this shadow was certainly not that of Peter Carey whom he knew well it was that of a bearded man but the beard was short and bristled forward in a way very different from that of the captain so he says but he had been two hours in the public house and it is some distance from the road to the window besides this refers to the Monday and the crime was done upon the Wednesday on the Tuesday Peter Carey was in one of his blackest moods flushed with drink and as savage as a dangerous wild beast he roamed about the house and the women ran for it when they heard him coming late in the evening he went down to his own hut about two o'clock the following morning his daughter who slept with her window open heard a most fearful yell from that direction but it was no unusual thing for him to ball and shout when he was in drink this was taken on rising at seven one of the maids noticed that the door of the hut was open but so great was the terror which the man caused that it was midday before anyone would venture down to see what had become of him peeping into the open door they saw a sight which sent them flying with white faces into the village within an hour I was on the spot and had taken over the case well I have fairly steady nerves as you know Mr. Holmes I give you my word that I got a shake when I put my head into that little house it was droning like a harmonium with the flies and blue bottles and the floor and walls were like a slaughterhouse he had called it a cabin and a cabin it was sure enough for you would have thought that you were in a ship there was a bunk at one end a sea chest maps and charts a picture of the sea unicorn a line of log books on a shelf all exactly as one would expect in the captain's room and there in the middle of it was the man himself his face twisted like a lost soul in torment and his great brindled beard stuck upward in his agony right through his broad breast a steel harpoon had been driven and it had sunk deep into the wood of the wall behind him he was pinned like a beetle on a card of course he was quite dead and had been so from the instant that he had uttered that last yell of agony I know your methods sir and I applied them before I permitted anything to be moved I examined most carefully the ground outside and also the floor of the room there were no foot marks meaning that you saw none I assure you sir that there were none my good Hopkins I have investigated many crimes but I have never yet seen one which was committed by a flying creature as long as the criminal remains upon two legs so long must there be some indentation some abrasion some trifling displacement which can be detected by the scientific searcher it is incredible that this blood bespattered room contained no trace which could have aided us I understand however from the inquest that there were some objects which you failed to overlook the young inspector winced at my companion's ironical comments I was a fool not to call you in at the time Mr. Holmes however that's past praying for now yes there were several objects in the room which called for special attention one was the harpoon with which the deed was committed it had been snatched down from a rack on the wall two others remained there and there was a vacant place for the third on the stock was engraved SSC unicorn Dundee this seemed to establish that the crime had been done in a moment of fury yet the murderer had seized the first weapon which came in his way the fact that the crime was committed at two in the morning and yet Peter Carey was fully dressed suggested that he had an appointment with the murderer which is borne out by the fact that a bottle of rum and two dirty glasses stood upon the table yes said Holmes I think that both inferences are permissible was there any other spirit but rum in the room yes there was a tantalist containing brandy and whiskey on the sea-chest it is of no importance to us however since the decanters were full and it had therefore not been used for all that its presence has some significance said Holmes however let us hear some more about the objects which do seem to you to bear upon the case there was this tobacco pouch upon the table what part of the table it lay in the middle it was of coarse seal skin the straight haired skin with a leather thong to bind it inside was P.C. on the flap there was half an ounce of strong ship's tobacco in it excellent what more Stanley Hopkins drew from his pocket a drab covered notebook the outside was rough and worn the leaves discolored on the first page were written the initials J.H.N. 1883 Holmes laid it on the table and examined it in his minute way while Hopkins and I gazed over each shoulder on the second page were the printed letters C.P.R and then came several sheets of numbers another heading was Argentine another Costa Rica and another San Paolo each with pages of signs and figures after it what do you make of these Holmes they appear to be lists of stock exchange securities I thought that J.H.N. were the initials of a broker and that C.P.R may have been his client try Canadian Pacific Railway said Holmes Stanley Hopkins swore between his teeth and struck his thigh with his clenched hand what a fool I have been he cried of course it is as you say then J.H.N. are the only initials we have to solve I have already examined the old stock exchange lists and I can find no one in 1883 either in the house or among the outside brokers whose initials correspond with these yet I feel that the clue is the most important one that I hold you will admit Mr. Holmes that there is a possibility that these initials are those of the second person who was present in other words of the murderer I would also urge introduction into the case of a document relating to large masses of valuable securities gives us for the first time some indication of a motive for the crime Sherlock Holmes' face showed that he was thoroughly taken aback by this new development I must admit both your points said he I confess that this notebook which did not appear at the inquest modifies any views which I may have formed I had come to a theory of the crime I can find no place for this have you endeavored to trace any of the securities here mentioned inquiries are now being made at the offices but I fear that the complete register of the stockholders of these South American concerns is in South America and that some weeks must elapse before we can trace the shares Holmes had been examining the cover of the notebook with his magnifying lens surely there is some discoloration here said he yes sir it is a blood stain I told you that I picked the book off the floor was the blood stain above or below on the side next the boards which proves of course that the book was dropped after the crime was committed exactly Mr. Holmes I appreciated that point and I conjectured that it was dropped by the murderer in his hurried flight it lay near sir I suppose that none of these securities have been found among the property of the dead man no sir have you any reason to suspect robbery no sir nothing seemed to have been touched dear me it is certainly a very interesting case then there was a knife was there not a sheath knife still in its sheath it lay at the feet of the dead man Mrs. Carey has identified it as being her husband's property Holmes was lost in thought for some time well said he at last I suppose I shall have to come out and have a look at it Stanley Hopkins gave a cry of joy thank you sir that will indeed be a wait off my mind Holmes shook his finger at the inspector it would have been an easier task a week ago said he but even now my visit may not be entirely fruitless Watson if you can spare the time I should be very glad of your company if you will call a four wheeler Hopkins we shall be ready to start for forest row in a quarter of an hour a lighting at the small wayside station we drove for some miles through the remains of widespread woods which were once part of that great forest which for so long held the Saxon invaders at bay the impenetrable 60 years the bulwark of Britain vast sections of it have been cleared for this is the seat of the first ironworks of the country and the trees have been felled to smelt the ore now the richer fields of the north have absorbed the trade and nothing save these ravaged groves and great scars in the earth show the work of the past here in a clearing upon the green slope of the hill stood a long low stone house approached by a curving drive running through the fields nearer the road and surrounded on three sides by bushes was a small outhouse one window and the door facing in our direction it was the scene of the murder Stanley Hopkins led us first to the house where he introduced us to a haggard gray haired woman the widow of the murdered man whose gaunt and deep lined face with the furtive look of terror in the depths of her red rimmed eyes with the years of hardship and ill-usage which she had endured with her was her daughter a pale fair haired girl whose eyes blazed defiantly at us as she told us that she was glad that her father was dead and that she blessed the hand which had struck him down it was a terrible household that black Peter Kerry had made for himself and it was with a sense of relief that we found ourselves in the sunlight again and making our way along a path which had been worn across the walls by the feet of the dead man the outhouse was the simplest of dwellings wooden walled shingle roofed one window beside the door and one on the farther side Stanley Hopkins drew the key from his pocket and had stooped to the lock when he paused with a look of attention and surprise upon his face someone has been tampering with it he said there could be no doubt of the fact the woodwork was cut scratches showed white through the paint as if they had been that instant done Holmes had been examining the window someone has tried to force this also whoever it was has failed to make his way in he must have been a very poor burglar this is a most extraordinary thing said the inspector I could swear that these marks were not here yesterday evening some curious person from the village perhaps suggested very unlikely few of them would dare to set foot in the grounds far less try to force their way into the cabin what do you think of it Mr. Holmes I think that fortune is very kind to us you mean that the person will come again it is very probable he came expecting to find the door open he tried to get in with a blade of a very small pin knife he could not manage it what would he do come again next night with a more useful tool so I should say it will be our fault if we are not there to receive him meanwhile let me see the inside of the cabin the traces of the tragedy had been removed but the furniture within the little room still stood as it had been on the night of the crime for two hours with most intense concentration Holmes examined every object in turn that his quest was not a successful one once only he paused in his patient investigation have you taken anything off this shelf Hopkins no I have moved nothing something has been taken there is less dust in this corner of the shelf than elsewhere it may have been a book lying on its side it may have been a box well well I can do nothing more let us walk in these beautiful woods Watson a few hours to the birds and the flowers we shall meet you here later Hopkins and see if we can come to closer quarters with a gentleman who has paid this visit in the night end of part one of the adventure of black peter the adventure of black peter part two from the return of Sherlock Holmes this is a LibriVox recording all LibriVox recordings are in the public domain for more information or to volunteer please visit LibriVox.org recorded by Laurie Ann Walden the return of Sherlock Holmes by Sir Arthur Conan Doyle the adventure of black peter part two it was past eleven o'clock when we formed our little ambuscade Hopkins was for leaving the door of the hut open but Holmes was of the opinion that this would rouse the suspicions of the stranger the lock was a perfectly simple one and only a strong blade was needed to push it back Holmes also suggested that we should wait not inside the hut but outside it among the bushes which grew round the farther window in this way we should be able to watch our man if he struck a light and see what his object was in this stealthy nocturnal visit it was a long and melancholy vigil and yet brought with it something of the thrill which the hunter feels when he lies beside the water pool and waits for the coming of the thirsty beast of prey what savage creature was it which might steal upon us out of the darkness was it a fierce tiger of crime which could only be taken fighting hard with flashing fang and claw or would it prove to be some skulking jackal dangerous only to the weak and unguarded in absolute silence we crouched amongst the bushes waiting for whatever might come at first the steps of a few belated villagers or the sound of voices from the village lightened our vigil but one by one these interruptions died away and an absolute stillness fell upon us save for the chimes of the distant church which told us of the progress of the night and for the rustle and whisper of a fine rain falling amid the foliage which roofed us in half past two had chimed and it was the darkest hour which precedes the dawn when we all started as a low but sharp click came from the direction of the gate someone had entered the drive again there was a long silence and I had begun to fear that it was a false alarm when a stealthy step was heard upon the other side of the hut and a moment later a metallic scraping and clinking the man was trying to force the lock this time his skill was greater or his tool was better for there was a sudden snap and the creek of the hinges then a match was struck and the distant the steady light from a candle filled the interior of the hut through the gauze curtain our eyes were all riveted upon the scene within the nocturnal visitor was a young man frail and thin with a black mustache which intensified the deadly pallor of his face he could not have been much above twenty years of age I have never seen any human being who appeared to be in such a pitiable fright for his teeth were visibly chattering and he was shaking in every limb he was dressed like a gentleman in Norfolk jacket and knickerbockers with a cloth cap upon his head we watched him staring round with frightened eyes then he laid the candle end upon the table and disappeared from our view into one of the corners he returned with a large book one of the log books which formed a line upon the shelves leaning on the table he rapidly turned over the leaves of this volume until he came to the entry which he sought then with an angry gesture of his clenched hand he closed the book, replaced it in the corner and put out the light he had hardly turned to leave the hut when Hopkins hand was on the fellow's collar and I heard his loud gasp of terror as he understood that he was taken the candle was relit and there was our wretched captive shivering and cowering in the grasp of the detective he sank down upon the sea-chest and looked helplessly from one of us to the other now my fine fellow said Stanley Hopkins who are you and what do you want here the man pulled himself together and faced us with an effort at self-composure you are detectives I suppose said he you imagine I am connected with the death of Captain Peter Carey I assure you that I am innocent we'll see about that said Hopkins first of all what is your name it is John Hopley Neiligan I saw Holmes and Hopkins exchange a quick glance what are you doing here can I speak confidentially no certainly not why should I tell you if you have no answer it may go badly with you at the trial the young man winced well I will tell you he said why should I not and yet I hate to think of this old scandal gaining a new lease of life did you ever hear of Dawson and Neiligan I could see from Hopkins face that he never had but Holmes was keenly interested you mean the west country bankers said he they failed for a million ruined half the county families of Cornwall and Neiligan disappeared exactly Neiligan was my father at last we were getting something positive and yet it seemed a long gap between an absconding banker and Captain Peter Carey pinned against the wall with one of his own harpoons we all listened intently to the young man's words it was my father who was really concerned Dawson had retired I was only ten years of age at the time but I was old enough to feel the shame and horror of it all it has always been said that my father will all the securities and fled it is not true it was his belief that if he were given time in which to realize them all would be well and every creditor paid in full he started in his little yacht for Norway just before the warrant was issued for his arrest I can remember that last night when he bade farewell to my mother he left us a list of the securities he was taking and he swore that he would come back with his honor cleared to suffer well no word was ever heard from him again both the yacht and he vanished utterly we believed, my mother and I that he and it, with the securities that he had taken with him were at the bottom of the sea we had a faithful friend, however who is a business man and it was he who discovered some time ago that some of the securities which my father had with him had reappeared on the London market imagine our amazement I spent months in trying to trace them and at last, after many doubtings and difficulties I discovered that the original seller had been Captain Peter Carey the owner of this hut naturally I made some inquiries about the man I found that he had been in command of a whaler which was due to return from the Arctic seas at the very time when my father was crossing to Norway the autumn of that year was a stormy one and there was a long succession of southerly gales my father's yacht may well have been blown to the north and there met by Captain Peter Carey's ship if that were so what had become of my father in any case, if I could prove from Peter Carey's evidence how these securities came on the market it would be a proof that my father had not sold them and that he had no view to personal profit when he took them I came down to Sussex with the intention of seeing the captain but it was at this moment that his terrible death occurred I read at the inquest a description of his cabin in which it stated that the old log books of his vessel were preserved in it it struck me that if I could see what occurred in the month of August 1883 on board the sea unicorn I might settle the mystery of my father's fate I tried last night to get at these log books but was unable to open the door tonight I tried again and succeeded but I find that the pages which deal with that month have been torn from the book it was at that moment I found myself a prisoner in your hands is that all? asked Hopkins yes that is all his eyes shifted as he said it you have nothing else to tell us? he hesitated no there is nothing you have not been here before last night? no then how do you account for that? said Hopkins as he held up the damning notebook with the initials of our prisoner on the first leaf and the blood stain on the cover the wretched man collapsed he sank his face in his hands and trembled all over where did you get it? he groaned I did not know I thought I had lost it at the hotel that is enough? said Hopkins sternly whatever else you have to say you must say in court you will walk down with me now to the police station well Mr. Holmes I am very much obliged to you and to your friend for coming down to help me as it turns out your presence was unnecessary and I would have brought the case to this successful issue without you but nonetheless I am grateful rooms have been reserved for you at the Bramble Tye Hotel so we can all walk down to the village together well Watson what do you think of it? asked Holmes as we traveled back next morning I can see that you are not satisfied oh yes my dear Watson I am perfectly satisfied at the same time Stanley Hopkins methods do not commend themselves to me I am disappointed in Stanley Hopkins I had hoped for better things from him one should always look for a possible alternative and provide against it it is the first rule of criminal investigation what then is the alternative? the line of investigation which I have myself been pursuing it may give us nothing I cannot tell but at least I shall follow it to the end several letters were waiting for Holmes at Baker Street he snatched one of them up opened it and burst out into a triumphant chuckle of laughter excellent Watson the alternative develops have you telegraphed forms just write a couple of messages for me Sumner, shipping agent Ratcliffe Highway send three men on to arrive ten tomorrow morning Basil that is my name in those parts the other is Inspector Stanley Hopkins 46 Lord Street, Brixton come breakfast tomorrow at 9.30 important, wire if unable to come Sherlock Holmes there Watson this infernal case has haunted me for ten days I hereby banish it completely from my presence tomorrow I trust that we shall hear the last of it forever sharp at the hour named Inspector Stanley Hopkins appeared and we sat down together to the excellent breakfast which Mrs. Hudson had prepared the young detective was in high spirits at his success you really think that your solution must be correct? asked Holmes I could not imagine a more complete case it did not seem to me conclusive you astonish me Mr. Holmes what more could one ask for? does your explanation cover every point? undoubtedly I find that young Niligan arrived at the Bramble-Tye Hotel on the very day of the crime he came on the pretense of playing golf his room was on the ground floor and he could get out when he liked that very night he went down to Woodman's Lee saw Peter Kerry at the hut quarreled with him and killed him with a harpoon then horrified by what he had done he fled out of the hut dropping the notebook which he had brought with him and ordered to question Peter Kerry about these different securities you may have observed that some of them were marked with ticks and the others, the great majority, were not those which are ticked have been traced on the London market but the others presumably were still in the possession of Kerry and young Niligan, according to his own account was anxious to recover them in order to do the right thing by his father's creditors after his flight he did not dare to approach the hut again for some time but at last he forced himself to do so in order to obtain the information which he needed surely that is all simple and obvious? Holmes smiled and shook his head it seems to me to have only one drawback Hopkins and that is that it is intrinsically impossible have you tried to drive a harpoon through a body? no? my dear sir, you must really pay attention to these details my friend Watson could tell you that I spent a whole morning in that exercise it is no easy matter and requires a strong and practised arm but this blow was delivered with such violence that the head of the weapon sank deep into the wall do you imagine that this anemic youth was capable of so frightful an assault? is he the man who hobnobbed in rum and water with blackfeeder in the dead of the night? was it his profile that was seen on the blind two nights before? no, no Hopkins it is another and more formidable person for whom we must seek the detective's face had grown longer and longer during Holmes's speech his hopes and his ambitions were all crumbling about him but he would not abandon his position without a struggle you can't deny that Niligan was present that night, Mr. Holmes the book will prove that I fancy that I have evidence enough to satisfy a jury even if you are able to pick a hole in it besides Mr. Holmes I have laid my hand upon my man as to this terrible person of yours where is he? I rather fancy that he is on the stair said Holmes serenely I think Watson that you would do well to put that revolver where you can reach it he rose and laid a written paper upon a side-table now we are ready, said he there had been some talking and gruff voices outside and now Mrs. Hudson opened the door to say that there were three men inquiring for Captain Basil show them in one by one, said Holmes the first who entered was a little ribstin-pippin of a man with ruddy cheeks and fluffy white side whiskers Holmes had drawn a letter from his pocket what name, he asked James Lancaster I am sorry Lancaster, but the birth is full here is half a sovereign for your trouble just step into this room and wait there for a few minutes the second man was a long dried up creature with like hair and shallow cheeks his name was Hugh Patton's he also received his dismissal, his half-sovereign and the order to wait the third applicant was a man of remarkable appearance a fierce bulldog face was framed in a tangle of hair and beard and two bold dark eyes gleamed behind the cover of thick tufted overhung eyebrows he saluted and stood sailor fashion turning his cap round in his hands your name, asked Holmes Patrick Carnes Harpooner Yes sir, 26 voyages Dundee I suppose Yes sir and ready to start with an exploring ship Yes sir what wages 8 pounds a month could you start at once as soon as I get my kit have you your papers Yes sir he took a sheaf of worn and greasy forms from his pocket Holmes glanced over them and returned them you are just the man I want, said he here's the agreement on the side table if you sign it the whole matter will be settled the sea man lurched across the room and took up the pin shall I sign here, he asked, stooping over the table Holmes leaned over his shoulder and passed both hands over his neck this will do, said he I heard a click of steel and a bellow like an enraged bull the next instant Holmes and the sea man were rolling on the ground together he was a man of such gigantic strength that even with the handcuffs which Holmes had so deftly fastened upon his wrists he would have very quickly overpowered my friend had Hopkins and I not rushed to his rescue only when I pressed the cold muzzle of the revolver to his temple did he at last understand that resistance was vain we lashed his ankles with cord and rose breathless from the struggle I must really apologize Hopkins, said Sherlock Holmes I fear that the scrambled eggs are cold however you will enjoy the rest of your breakfast all the better will you not for the thought that you have brought your case to a triumphant conclusion Stanley Hopkins was speechless with amazement I don't know what to say Mr. Holmes he blurted out at last with a very red face it seems to me that I have been making a fool of myself from the beginning I understand now what I should never have forgotten that I am the people and you are the master even now I see what you have done but I don't know how you did it or what it signifies well well said Holmes, good humoredly we all learn by experience and your lesson this time is that you should never lose sight of the alternative you were so absorbed in young Neiligan that you could not spare a thought to Patrick Carnes the true murderer of Peter Carey the horse voice of the seaman broke in on our conversation see here Mr. said he I make no complaint of being manhandled in this fashion but I would have you call things by their right names you say I murdered Peter Carey I say I killed Peter Carey and there's all the difference maybe you don't believe what I say maybe you think I am just slinging you a yarn not at all said Holmes let us hear what you have to say it's soon told and by the Lord every word of it is truth I knew Black Peter and when he pulled out his knife I whipped a harpoon through him sharp for I knew that it was him or me that's how he died you can call it murder anyhow I'd as soon die with a rope around my neck as with Black Peter's knife in my heart how came you there asked Holmes I'll tell it to you from the beginning just sit me up a little so as I can speak easy it was in 83 that it happened August of that year Peter Carey was master of the sea unicorn and I was spare harpooner we were coming out of the ice pack on our way home with headwinds and a weak southerly gale when we picked up a little craft that had been blown north there was one man on her a landsman the crew had thought she would found her and had made for the Norwegian coast in the dinghy I guess they were all drowned well we took him on board this man and he and the skipper had some long talks in the cabin all the baggage we took off with him was one tin box so far as I knew the man's name was never mentioned and on the second night he disappeared as if he had never been it was given out that he had either thrown himself overboard or fallen overboard in the heavy weather that we were having only one man knew what had happened to him and that was me for with my own eyes I saw the skipper tip up his heels and put him over the rail in the middle watch of a dark night two days before we sighted the Shetland lights well I kept my knowledge to myself and waited to see what would come of it when we got back to Scotland it was easily hushed up and nobody asked any questions a stranger died by accident and it was nobody's business to inquire shortly after Peter Carey gave up the sea and it was long years before I could find where he was I guessed that he had done the deed for the sake of what was in that tin box and that he could afford now to pay me well for keeping my mouth shut I found out where he was through a sailor man that had met him in London and down I went to squeeze him the first night he was reasonable enough and was ready to give me what would make me free of the sea for life we were to fix it all two nights later when I came I found him three parts drunk and in a vile temper we sat down and we drank and we yarned about old times but the more he drank the less I liked the look on his face I spotted that harpoon upon the wall and I thought I might need it before I was through then at last he broke out at me spitting and cursing with the murder in his eyes and a great clasp knife in his hand he had not time to get it from the sheath before I had the harpoon through him Heavens what a yell he gave and his face gets between me and my sleep I stood there with his blood splashing round me and I waited for a bit but all was quiet so I took heart once more I looked round and there was the tin box on the shelf I had as much right to it as Peter Carey anyhow so I took it with me and left the hut like a fool I left my backy pouch upon the table now I'll tell you the queerest part of the whole story I had hardly got outside the hut when I heard someone coming and I hid among the bushes a man came slinking along went into the hut gave a cry as if he had seen a ghost and legged it as hard as he could run until he was out of sight who he was or what he wanted is more than I can tell for my part I walked ten miles got a train at Tunbridge Wells and so reached London and no one the wiser well when I came to examine the box I found there was no money in it and nothing but papers that I would not dare to sell I had lost my hold on Black Peter and was stranded in London without a shilling there was only my trade left I saw these advertisements about harpooners and high wages so I went to the shipping agents and they sent me here I know and I say again that if I killed Black Peter the law should give me thanks for I saved them the price of a hempen rope a very clear statement said Holmes rising and lighting his pipe I think Hopkins that you should lose no time in conveying your prisoner to a place of safety this room is not well adapted for a cell and Mr. Patrick Carnes occupies too large a proportion of our carpet Mr. Holmes said Hopkins I do not know how to express my gratitude even now I do not understand how you attain this result simply by having the good fortune to get the right clue from the beginning it is very possible if I had known about this notebook it might have let away my thoughts as it did yours but all I heard pointed in the one direction the amazing strength the skill in the use of the harpoon the rum and water the seal skin tobacco pouch with the coarse tobacco all these pointed to a seaman and one who had been a whaler I was convinced that the initials PC upon the pouch were a coincidence and not those of Peter Carey since he seldom smoked and no pipe was found in his cabin you remember that I asked whether whiskey and brandy were in the cabin you said they were how many landsmen are there who would drink rum when they could get these other spirits yes I was certain it was a seaman and how did you find him my dear sir the problem had become a very simple one if it were a seaman it could only be a seaman who had been with him on the sea unicorn so far as I could learn he had sailed in no other ship I spent three days in wiring to Dundee and at the end of that time I had ascertained the names of the crew of the sea unicorn in 1883 when I found Patrick Carnes among the harpooners my research was nearing its end I argued that the man was probably in London and that he would desire to leave the country for a time I therefore spent some days in the East End devised an arctic expedition put forth tempting terms for harpooners who would serve under Captain Basil and behold the result wonderful cried Hopkins wonderful you must obtain the release of young Neiligan as soon as possible said Holmes I confess that I think you owe him some apology the tin box must be returned to him but of course the securities which Peter Kerry has sold are lost forever there's the cab Hopkins and you can remove your man if you want me for the trial my address and that of Watson will be somewhere in Norway I'll send particulars later End of The Adventure of Black Peter Part 2