Sherlock Holmes Detective Collection New Detective (Part 2)

Lion mane

　　There was a strange and difficult case, no less difficult than any case I was angry about, which fell on me after I retired, and it can be said that it came to me. It happened after I retired to the Sussex Cottage, when I had wholeheartedly lived an idyllic life, a life I had often longed for for many years in gloomy London. Since retiring, Watson has almost completely disappeared from my life. Coming over for a weekend once in a while, that's all I've had with him. Therefore, I had to record the case myself. If he had been there, how would he have played the tense beginning of the story and the victory I finally overcame! However, he was not present after all, so I had to use my way to flatten the narrative, showing every step of my difficult journey of exploring the mystery of the lion's mane in my own words.

　　My villa is located in the southern foothills of the Sussex Hills, facing the vast strait. At this promontory, the entire coast is covered with chalky cliffs, and the only way to get down to the sea is through the only long, rugged, steep and slippery path. At the end of the path, even at high tide, there is a pebble-strewn beach of one hundred meters. But everywhere there are curved depressions that form naturally good pools that refill the water with each high tide. On such a coast that stretches for miles on both sides, only a small bay, the village of Volworth, interrupts the straight line.

　　My villa was lonely. I, the old butler, and my bees, are the entire inhabitants of this house. Half a mile away is Harold Steherst's famous private school, the Triangle Wall School. It was a rather large house with dozens of young students training in different professions, as well as a few teachers. At a young age, Stehurst was a well-known Cambridge university rower and an all-round outstanding student. He and I have had a good relationship since I moved to the waterfront and are the only close friends I can visit each other in the evening without invitation.

　　At the end of July 1907, a sea breeze blew from the strait to the coast, alluvializing the sea to the bottom of the cliff, leaving a large saltwater lake after the tide receded. In the morning, the wind has calmed down, and the beach is washed away and is exceptionally fresh. On such a good day, it is impossible to stay at home and work, so I go out for a walk before breakfast and enjoy the fresh air. I walked along the path from the cliff to the beach. I heard someone shouting behind me, and it turned out to be Stehurst waving and shouting.

　　"What a good morning, Mr. Holmes! I knew I would see you come out. ”

　　"Go for a swim, right?"

　　"Here comes your set of inferences again," he laughed, pointing to his bulging pocket. "Yes, McPherson came out early in the morning, and I might have found him."

　　Watsroy McPherson, a science teacher, was a toned young man whose vitality was weakened by a heart attack he suffered from rheumatic fever. But he was a natural athlete anyway, outstanding in a variety of less intense sports. He insisted on swimming in winter and summer, and because I loved to swim, I often met him.

　　That's when we saw him. His head was exposed on the edge of the cliff at the end of the path, and then his figure appeared on the cliff, shaking like a drunk. Suddenly he threw his hands to his head, screamed in pain, and threw himself forward. Steherst and I hurried over—about fifty meters apart—and helped him to lean back. He obviously couldn't do it. The sunken eyes and blue cheeks can only be a sign of death. Suddenly, a glimmer of life returned to his face, and he uttered two or three words with a serious warning look. The voice was continuous and vague, but I heard the last two words that burst out of his lips were 'lion's mane'. Its meaning is incomprehensible and incomprehensible, but I really cannot pronounce it as another word. After saying this, he half-lifted himself, stretched out his hands, and fell on his side. He's dead. My companion was overwhelmed by the sight. And I, as everyone imagines, every nerve is alert. This was necessary because the course of events soon became clear that this was an unusual case. He wore only a Cypress raincoat, pants, and canvas shoes without laces. When he fell, his hastily shouldered Kashiwalai raincoat slipped down, revealing his torso. We were taken aback. There were many dark red stripes on his back, as if he had been whipped with a very thin whip. The wounded whip must have been elastic, for there were long, swollen whiplash marks around his shoulders and ribs. Blood dripped from his mouth as he bit his lower lip in excruciating pain. His spasmodic perverted face showed how much pain he was in. I was kneeling beside the dead, and while Steherst was standing next to me, a shadow came over and it was Ian Murdoch who had come to us. He was a math teacher, a tall, thin man with a dark complexion, and it was difficult to say what friends he had because of his taciturn and withdrawn temperament. He seems to live in a world of high abstract conic curves and incomplete roots, and has nothing to do with everyday life. He was treated as a monster by his students, and could have been the object of their ridicule, but there was something foreign about this man, which was manifested not only in the dark black eyes and dark skin, but also in the occasional temper attack, which could only be described by the word violent. Once, he was annoyed by McPherson's puppy, and he picked up the dog and threw it out of the glass window. If it weren't for the fact that he was a good teacher, Steherst would have invited him away long ago. It was this complex freak who came to us. It seems that he was sincerely stunned by the sight of the deceased, although the puppy incident showed a lack of affection between the deceased and him.

　　"Poor people! Poor people! What can I do? Can I help? ”

　　"Were you with him just now?" Can you tell us what happened? ”

　　"Not together, I came out late today. I haven't gone to the beach yet. I just got out of school. What can I do? ”

　　"You can hurry to the Volvos branch office and report the crime immediately."

　　Without saying a word, he turned around and ran at top speed. I took the initiative to take on the task of handling this case, and the stunned Steherst stayed next to the deceased. The first step I took was naturally to write down who was on the waterfront. From the top of the trail I could see the entire waterfront, and there were no figures, only three or two figures moving towards Vulworth in the distance. After figuring this out, I stepped down the path. The chalk soil was mixed with clay and stucco rock, and I saw the trail with the ascent and descent footprints of the same person. No one else went down this road to the waterfront this morning. There was a place where I saw the traces of fingers on the palm of my hand on the slope, which only showed that poor McPherson had fallen on the usual level. There was also a small circular pit, indicating that he had knelt down more than once. At the lower end of the trail, there is a saltwater lake left by the low tide. McPherson had undressed by the lake because he had his towel on a rock. The towels were folded and dry, and it seemed he had not been in the water. As I searched among the hard pebbles, I found his canvas shoe prints and barefoot footprints once or twice. This indicates that he is ready to go into the water, although the dry towel also indicates that he has not actually been in the water yet.

　　The problem has been clearly presented– arguably one of the weirdest problems I've ever encountered when I'm angry. The person concerned came to the beach for at most a quarter of an hour. Steherst followed from the school, so there is no doubt about that. He went swimming and had already undressed, as evidenced by the barefoot footprints. Then suddenly he put on his clothes—all messy and unbuttoned—and came back without getting into the water or at least without drying them. The reason he changed his mind was that he had been brutally whipped and tortured to the point of biting his lip, and he had only the last bit of strength left to crawl out of the place and die. So who did this cruel thing? Yes, there are some small caves at the base of the cliffs, but the rising sun shines directly inside the caves, and there is no hiding place at all. There were also several figures on the waterfront in the distance, but they were too far away to be connected to the case, not to mention the saltwater lake where McPherson wanted to swim, and the water rushed all the way to the cliff. At sea, there were two or three fishing boats not too far away. When you have time, you can check the people in the boat. There are a few clues available to investigate, but none of them are clear.

　　When I finally returned to the dead, there were already several people watching. Steherst was naturally still there, and Murdoch had just brought Anderson— the village policeman. The latter was a tall, yellow-haired, dull, sturdy Sussex type of man—a man who tended to hide his wise mind underneath his bulky, silent exterior. He listened silently, took down all the points we said, and finally pulled me aside and said:

　　"Mr. Holmes, I need your teaching. It was a big case for me, and if something went wrong, my superior Lewis would speak. ”

　　I suggested that he immediately bring in their boss and another doctor, and not move anything from the scene until they arrived, and that the fewer new footprints the better. At this moment, I searched the pockets of the deceased. Inside was a handkerchief, a large folding knife, a folding business card holder, and a corner of paper was revealed. I opened it and handed it to the police. Above are the scrawled handwriting of the woman:

　　I will definitely come, please rest assured.

　　Morty

　　It seems to be a date for lovers, but the time and place are unknown. The police put the paper back in the business card holder and, along with everything else, into the pocket of the Berberley raincoat. Since there was no side to it, after suggesting a thorough search of the base of the cliff, I went home for breakfast.

　　An hour or two later, Stehurst came up to me and told me that the body had been moved to the school, where an autopsy would be performed. He also brought some important and clear news. As I expected, the search at the bottom of the wall found nothing. But he inspected McPherson's desk and found several close letters, communicated by Miss Maud Bellamy of Vours Village. So we find out the author of the note on his body.

　　"The letter was taken by the police," he explained, "and I couldn't get it." But it's certain that it's serious love. However, I couldn't see what this had to do with the wreckage, except that the girl had booked a date with him. ”

　　"But it's not going to be in a swimming pool that you all go to," I said.

　　"It was only because of fortuitous circumstances that the students did not go with McPherson today."

　　"Is it really accidental?"

　　Steherst frowned thoughtfully.

　　"Murdoch left the students behind," he said, "and he insisted on explaining algebra before breakfast." This man, he is very sad about today's tragic events. ”

　　"But I've heard that the two of them don't have a big match."

　　"There was a period when it was not right. But for a year, Murdoch and McPherson could be said to be very close, Murdoch had never been so close to anyone else, and his temperament was not very easygoing. ”

　　"That's the way it is. I seem to remember you talking to me about the dog-treating quarrel. ”

　　"That thing is long gone."

　　"Maybe leave a grudge."

　　"Impossible, impossible, I believe they are really good friends."

　　"Then we'll have to investigate the girl." Do you know her? ”

　　"Everyone knows her. She is a local beauty, and a real beauty, and she will be noticed wherever she goes. I knew McPherson was pursuing her, but I didn't expect it to have gotten to the point where the letter was. ”

　　"What is she?"

　　"She's the daughter of old Tom Bellamy. Vlvos's fishing boats and swimming pool locker rooms are his possessions. He was originally a fisherman, but now he is quite solid. He and his son William run the business together. ”

　　"Shall we take a trip to Volworth and meet them?"

　　"What excuse is there?"

　　"Excuses are always available. In any case, the deceased is not abused to death by himself. There is always someone with a whip handle in hand, if it is really the whip that causes trauma. In this remote place, the number of people he interacts with is limited. If we look through every corner, we can always find some kind of motive, and the motive will lead to the criminal. ”

　　If the mood had not been poisoned by the tragedy of witnessing with one's own eyes, a walk on this scented grassland with musk would have been a pleasant one. The village of Vulvos sits in a semicircle around the bay. Behind the old-fashioned village, several modern houses were paved. Steherst led me toward such a house.

　　"This is what Bellamy calls 'Harbor Hill', this house with corner towers and bluestone tiles. That's not bad for a self-made person – hey, look! ”

　　The garden door of the cottage opened and a man came out. The tall, rugged, languid figure was none other than the mathematician Murdoch. A minute later we met him on the road.

　　"Hey!" Steherst greeted him. He nodded and glanced at us with his strange black eyes as we were about to pass. But the headmaster pulled him back.

　　"What did you do there?" The principal asked him.

　　Murdoch blushed with rage. "Sir, I am your subordinate in school, but I do not understand what obligation I have to report to you on my private actions."

　　Steherst's nerves had become irritated after the tension of the day, otherwise he would have been patient. But at this time he could not control his temper completely.

　　"Mr. Murdoch, your answer is purely arrogant."

　　"Your own questions fall into the same category."

　　"You've shown such arrogance time and time again. I can't tolerate it any longer. Please find another high as soon as possible! ”

　　"I already want to go. Today I lost the only person who made me willing to live in your school. ”

　　Saying that he strode off his path, Steherst glared at him angrily. "Have you ever seen such an unspeakable person?" He shouted angrily.

　　What impressed me the most was that Murdoch seized the first opportunity to get him out of the crime scene. At this point a vague suspicion began to form in my mind. Maybe a visit to Bella's house would clarify the matter further, and Steherst picked up his spirits and we entered the residence.

　　Mr. Bellamy is a middle-aged man with a large red beard. He seemed to be getting angry, and his face had turned red.

　　"No, sir, I don't want to know any details. "My son," he pointed to a strong, gloomy-looking lad in the corner of the room, "and I consider Mr. McPherson's pursuit of Maud to be an insult. Sir, he never mentioned the idea of getting married, but there was a whole lot of correspondence, dating, and many other practices that we didn't approve of. She has no mother, we are her only protectors. We are determined—"

　　But the young lady came in, and he did not say anything. There is no denying that she will bring brilliance to any occasion she goes into the world. Who would have imagined that such a flower could grow in such an environment and in such a family? For me as a person, women have never been an attraction, for my mind has always controlled the mind, but when I see her perfect and clear face, which is full of the fresh blood of the prairie, I believe that any young man will be her captive before her. It was such a girl who pushed the door and walked in, with wide nervous eyes, standing in front of Stehurst.

　　"I already knew That Wozroy was dead," she said. "Please don't worry, let me know the details."

　　"It was the other gentleman who told us the news," her father explained.

　　"There's no need to involve my sister in this!" The boy growled.

　　His sister glared at him fiercely. "It's my business, William. Please let me handle my own business my way. From the facts, it seems that someone has committed a crime. If I can help identify the person who committed the crime, this is the smallest thought I can spare for the deceased. ”

　　She listened to my companion briefly recount the situation. Her calm and attentive look made me feel that she not only had a special beauty, but also a strong character. Maude Bellamy will always be a perfect and outstanding woman in my memory. It seems that she already knows what I look like, because she finally said to me:

　　"Mr. Holmes, please find these criminals and bring them to justice." Whoever they are, you will have my sympathy and assistance. I felt as if she was talking and glancing at her father and brother in a challenging manner.

　　"Thank you," I said, "I value a woman's intuition in these things. You just said 'they', do you think more than one person is involved? ”

　　"Because I know Mr. McPherson very well, he is a brave and powerful man, and he cannot be insulted by anyone alone."

　　"Can I talk to you alone?"

　　"Maud," cried her father angrily, "I tell you not to get involved in this." ”

　　She looked at me helplessly. "What can I do?"

　　"The whole society will soon know the facts, so it doesn't hurt for me to discuss it here," I said, "I was going to talk about it alone, but if your father doesn't allow it, he has to participate in the discussion." "Then I talked about the strip found in the pocket of the deceased's clothes.

　　"This note will inevitably be published at the time of the autopsy. Can you explain? ”

　　"There's nothing to keep secret about," she replied, "and we were engaged." The reason why it was not announced was simply that Witzroy's elderly and dying uncle might revoke his inheritance if he did not marry according to his uncle's wishes. There is no other reason. ”

　　"You should have told us earlier," growled Mr. Bellamy.

　　"Dad, if you showed a little sympathy, I'd have told you a long time ago."

　　"I don't approve of my daughter dealing with people of unequal social status."

　　"It is your prejudice against him that prevents us from telling you. As for the date—" she pulled a lumpy note out of her pocket, "that's my reply to the strip. ”

　　Dear (the article reads):

　　On Tuesdays when the sun goes down in the old place on the waterfront. It was the only time I could get out.

　　Ｆ.Ｍ。

　　"Tuesday is today. I was going to see him tonight. ”

　　I flipped over to see the note. "It wasn't mailed. How do you get it? ”

　　"I'm reluctant to answer that question. This really has nothing to do with the case you are investigating. I promise to answer all relevant questions in full. ”

　　She did. But there is nothing useful about the situation. She doesn't think her fiancé has hidden enemies, but she admits she has several ardent suitors.

　　"May I ask you, Mr. Murdoch, of which?"

　　She blushed, and looked flustered.

　　"There was a time when I thought he was. But when he learned about Wozroy's relationship with me, it all changed. ”

　　Once again, the mystery about this strange man became more certain. His files must be investigated. His room had to be searched privately. Steherst was a man who volunteered to assist me, for doubts also formed in his mind. In this way, we returned from the harbor hills and felt that at least one end of the mess was in our hands.

　　A week passed. The autopsy did not provide any clues, so the trial was suspended and new evidence was sought. Steherst conducted a cautious investigation of his subordinates and briefly inspected his room, but to no avail. I myself scrutinized the whole site again, and there were no new conclusions. Readers will see that there has never been a case on our detective records that has left me powerless in this way. Even my imagination could not conceive of a solution. Then there was the dog incident.

　　That's what my butler first heard from that wonderful radio, through which people gathered country news.

　　"Sir, terrible news, Mr. McPherson's dog," she said suddenly one night.

　　Generally I discourage this kind of conversation, but McPherson's name caught my eye.

　　"What happened to McFason's dog?"

　　"Dead, sir, dead because of grief for his master."

　　"Who told you that?"

　　"Everybody's talking about it. The dog was so excited that he hadn't eaten for a week. Today two students at the Triangle School found it dead—and on the waterfront, right where its owner died. ”

　　"It's right there." These few words stand out very much in my memory. I had a vague feeling in my head that this must be an important question. The dog is dead, which is also in line with the good and faithful nature of the dog. But spot in place! Why is this desolate waterfront dangerous for dogs? Could it also be a victim of the enemy? Isn't it——? Yes, the feeling is still vague, but an idea has formed in my head. I went to school a few minutes later, and I found him in Steherst's study. At my request, he brought in the two students who had found the dogs—Sadbury and Blunt.

　　"Yes, the dog is lying on the edge of the lake," one student said. "It must have gone in the footsteps of its owner."

　　Later I went to see the faithful little dog, the Eldair Hound, lying on a mat in the hall. The corpse stiffened, its eyes bulging, its limbs spasming, and everywhere it was a manifestation of pain.

　　From school I walked straight to the swimming lake. The sun had set, and the dark shadows of the cliffs hung over the lake, and the water shone with dark light, like a lead plate. There was no one here, only two water birds circling overhead. In the dimming light, I could faintly see the footprints of the puppy printed on the beach, just around the stone where its owner had put the towel. The shadows on all sides grew darker and darker, and I stood there pondering for a long time. I had a lot of thoughts in my head. Anyone has experienced that kind of nightmarish thought, you know you're searching for something critical, you know it's in your head, but you can't think of it. This was the state of mind that night when I stood alone in that place of death. Then I turned around and walked slowly home.

　　As I reached the top of the trail, I suddenly remembered. Like lightning, I suddenly remembered the thing I was thinking about. Readers know that if Watson had not described me in vain, I would have had a great deal of angry knowledge in my head, without any scientific systematicness, but this knowledge would be useful to my business. My mind was like a storage room, full of packages of all kinds, so numerous that I had only a vague idea of them. I always knew there was something in my head that was of great significance to the current case. It's still vague, but I know I have a way to make it clear. It's bizarre, unbelievable, but always possible. I'm going to do a thorough experiment.

　　I have a top cabinet in my house, full of books. I went home and went into the room and tossed around for an hour. Later I walked out with a brown book printed in silver. I anxiously found the chapter I vaguely remembered. Sure enough, it was an unbridled and unlikely idea, but I had to figure out that it was, or I wouldn't be able to settle down. I slept extremely late, eagerly awaiting tomorrow's experiment.

　　But the work encountered annoying distractions. I had just hurriedly swallowed my morning tea and was about to get up and go to the waterfront when Officer Badr of Sussex County Police station arrived. It was a man of composure, steadyness, dullness, and thoughtful eyes, who now looked at me with great confusion and said:

　　"Sir, I know you are very experienced. Today I came to visit informally, and I don't need to say anything more. But I really can't do anything about this McPheason case. The question is, should I make an arrest, or should I not? ”

　　"Do you mean Mr. Murdoch?"

　　"Yes. Come to think of it, there really is no one else. This is the advantage of being located. We shrink the circle of suspicious people to a very small scale. If it wasn't him, who would it be? ”

　　"What evidence do you have to sue him?"

　　His route of gathering information was the same as I had originally envisioned. The first is Murdoch's character and the mystery of his personality, his occasional fiery temper at puppy incidents, the fact that he had quarreled with McPherson in the past, and the fact that he might resent McPherson's pursuit of Miss Bellamy. He had all the main points of my original possession, but nothing new, except for one point, which murdoch seemed to be preparing to leave.

　　"Since there is evidence of all this against him, what situation will I be placed if I let him go?"

　　The stout, dull officer was indeed distressed.

　　"Think about it," I said, "there are some important holes in your idea. On the morning of the accident, he could present evidence of his absence. He was with the students until the last moment. A few minutes after McPherson appeared he came from the back road and met us. And don't forget that he couldn't be alone against someone as strong as he was. Finally, there is the question of the apparatus used in the assailant. ”

　　"What else can there be but a soft whip?"

　　"Have you studied the scars?"

　　"I saw it, and so did the doctor."

　　"But I've looked at it very closely with the lens. Very special place. ”

　　"What peculiarity, Mr. Holmes?"

　　I walked over to my desk and took out an enlarged photograph. "That's how I handle this kind of case," I explained.

　　"Mr. Holmes, you are really thorough."

　　"Otherwise I wouldn't be a detective." Let's study the scar that surrounds the right shoulder. Do you see something special? ”

　　"I can't see it."

　　"Obviously the depth of this scar is not even. There's a bleeding spot here, a bleeding spot there. The same is true of one of the scars here. What do you say this suggests? ”

　　"I can't think of it. What do you think? ”

　　"I may know, I may not know. Soon I may be able to come up with a clearer answer. Any evidence that clarifies the bleeding point can go a long way toward finding the killer. ”

　　"I have a comical analogy," said the officer, "if you put a red-hot net on your back, the blood dots indicate where the wires intersect." ”

　　"It's a wonderful analogy. Or could we more appropriately say that it is the kind of whip with nine pimps and many hard knots on it? ”

　　"Yes, Mr. Holmes, you guessed it right."

　　"But it could also be a completely different cause of the trauma, Mr. Bader. In any case, the evidence for your arrest is insufficient. In addition, there are the dying words of the deceased - 'lion's mane'. ”

　　"I wondered if 'Lion' was 'Ian'—"

　　"I've thought about it too. But the second word is not at all like 'Murdoch'. He screamed out, and I'm sure it was 'lion's mane'. ”

　　"Do you have any other ideas, Mr. Holmes?"

　　"There is a little bit. But I'm not going to discuss it until I find a stronger basis. ”

　　"So when will the basis be found?"

　　"In an hour—maybe not yet."

　　The officer touched his chin and looked at me with suspicious eyes.

　　"I wish I could understand what was going on in your head, Mr. Holmes. Maybe those fishing boats. ”

　　"No, those ships are too far away."

　　"So, is it Bellamy and his stout son?" They didn't have any good feelings for McPherson. Will they straighten him out? ”

　　"No, I won't say anything until I'm ready," I said with a smile. "Mr. Officer, we all have our own work to do, if you come here at noon—"

　　At this point, we have been greatly disturbed, which is the starting point for the conclusion of this case.

　　The door to my outhouse was suddenly slammed open, and then there was the sound of stumbling footsteps in the hallway, and Ian Murdoch staggered into the house, his face colorless, his hair loose, his clothes disheveled, and his thin hand grabbing the table and barely standing upright on the ground. "Brandy! Take brandy! He gasped and fell back on the couch groaning when he finished.

　　He is not alone. Coming in behind him was Stehurst, untidy and almost disheveled like Murdoch.

　　"Bring the brandy!" He also shouted, "He's dying. I did my best to get him here, and he passed out twice on the way. ”

　　After half a glass of spirits into your stomach, a wonderful change took place. He propped it up with one hand, lifted himself up, and threw his shirt off. "Quick, get the oil, morphine, morphine!" He shouted, "Anything, cure it quickly, this is not a pain that people can endure!" ”

　　As soon as we saw the wound on his back, the officer and I shouted in unison. On the man's shoulders were crisscrossed with the same red, swollen web of scars, just as McPherson's fatal wounds had been.

　　The pain was obviously very terrible, and it was by no means a local symptom, because his breathing stopped from time to time, his face turned blue, his hands clutching his chest and panting, and large beads of sweat appeared on his forehead. He could die at any time. Brandy was constantly poured into him, and each time he was poured, he was revived. The wound was smeared with cotton dipped in vegetable oil, which seemed to alleviate his pain. Finally his head fell heavily on the mat. When the functions of life are extremely tired, they hide in the reservoir of life and rest. He was in a state of semi-sleep and half-coma, but at least the pain was relieved.

　　It was impossible to ask him, and after a moment the situation was settled, Steherst said to me:

　　"Oh my God! What's going on, Sherlock Holmes, what's going on? ”

　　"Where did you find him?"

　　"On the waterfront. Right where McPherson died. If his heart had been as weak as McPherson's, he would have died a long time ago. On two occasions on the road I felt like he wasn't okay. It's too far to go to school, so I'm here for you. ”

　　"Do you see him on the waterfront?"

　　"When I heard his cry, I was walking on a path on a cliff. He stood at the edge of the water, shaking like an intoxicating man. I immediately ran down, dressed him, and helped him up. O, Holmes, in the face of God, please use some means to remove harm to this side, this place is simply uninhabitable. Isn't there anything you can do about such a famous person? ”

　　"I guess I still have a way, Steherst. Follow me! And you, police officer, come on! I'm going to see if I can catch the killer. ”

　　Leaving the comatose patient in the care of the housekeeper, the three of us came to the deadly saltwater lake. There was a small pile of towels and clothes on the stone. I walked slowly around the water's edge, and two people followed me in turn. Most of the lake is shallow, but four or five feet deep where the shore bends under the cliffs. This is where swimmers naturally come, where the green waves are as clear as crystals. There was a row of stones at the base of the cliff, and I walked along the stones to take a closer look at the depths of the water below. It was in the deepest and quietest part of the water that my eyes finally found what I was searching for, and I cried out in triumph.

　　"Cyanogen jellyfish!" I shouted, "Cyanogen jellyfish! Come and see the lion's mane! ”

　　This strange thing really looked like a lump of hair pulled from a lion's mane. Growing on top of a reef three feet underwater, it is a strange animal that drifts with the waves, with many silver stripes under the yellow fur bundle. It slowly and heavily retracted and moved.

　　"This thing has made enough iniquity, and it's time to bear it!" I shouted. "Steherst, help me, it turned out to be this murderer!"

　　There was a big rock just above the reef, and we pushed it hard and with a bang it fell into the water. After the water waves cleared, we saw that the boulder was pressing on the reef, and the yellow mucous membrane was exposed on the edge, indicating that the jellyfish was pressed underneath. A thick stream of oily slime squeezed out from under the stone, staining the water and slowly rising to the surface.

　　"Hey, this stuff is holding me back!" The officer shouted. "Mr. Holmes, what the hell is this?" I grew up in this area, but I've never seen anything like this. This is not a native product of Sussex. ”

　　"It's better without it," I said. "Maybe the southwest wind blew it in. Please come home with me, and I will read to you about the terrible experience of a man who will never forget such a danger at sea. ”

　　Back in the study, we found that Murdoch had recovered to the point where he could sit up. He felt dizzy and cramped with pain. He said intermittently that he didn't know what was happening, only that he suddenly felt extreme pain in his body and fought with the greatest strength to get on the shore.

　　"Here's a book," I said, "that for the first time she clarifies this question, which may never be clear. The title of the book is "Outdoors", and the author is a famous natural observer. ＪＧ． Wood. Once, he came across this animal and almost died, so he elaborated on it with a wealth of knowledge. This harmful animal is no less poisonous than a cobra, and the suffering is much greater. Let me read a little summary:

　　'When a swimmer sees a fluffy, rounded cloud of brown mucous membranes and fibers, like a large handful of lion's mane and silver paper, be very vigilant, this is the terrible stinging cyanogen jellyfish. ’

　　You see, can this be described more clearly?

　　Below he recounts the experience of encountering one of these animals while swimming on the Kent waterfront. He found that the animal protruded a nearly invisible filament, up to fifty feet long, and that anyone who touched the filament was at risk of death. Despite being touched from a distance, Wood was nearly killed.

　　'Countless filaments cause red streaks on the skin, and on closer inspection, they are fine spots or vesicles, and each spot is like a small red-burning needle piercing the nerve. '

　　He explained that local pain was only the mildest part of the whole unspeakable pain.

　　The sharp pain radiated throughout my chest and made me fall down like I had been shot. The heart beat suddenly stopped, followed by six or seven wild beats, as if the heart was about to rush out of the chest cavity. ’

　　"He was almost dead, though he had only touched the poisonous wire in the fluctuating sea, not yet in a still and limited swimming lake. He said that after the poisoning, he could not even recognize his own face, and his face was unusually pale, wrinkled, and haggard. He drank brandy and swallowed a whole bottle, as if surviving. I have given you this book, Mr. Officer, which has fully described the tragedy of McPherson. ”

　　"And at the same time washed away my suspicions," Murdoch interjected, with a sneering smile on his face. "I don't blame you, Mr. Sergeant, nor do I blame you, Mr. Holmes, for your suspicions are understandable. I felt that it was only by sharing the fate of my poor friend that I had cleared my suspicions on the eve of his arrest. ”

　　"No, Mr. Murdoch. I'm already working on solving the case. If I had planned to go to the waterfront a little earlier as expected, I might have spared you this disaster. ”

　　"But how do you know, Mr. Holmes?"

　　"I'm a scribbling book reader, and I remember everything in my head." The words 'Lion's Mane' were always circling in my head, and I knew I had read it in some weird record. As you can see, these few words can indeed describe that strange animal. I believe that when McPherson saw it, it must have floated on the surface of the water, and these words were the only names he could come up with to warn us. ”

　　"Well, at least I'm clarified," Murdoch said, standing up slowly. "But I have two more words to explain, because I know what you have investigated me into." I did love this girl, but ever since she chose my friend McPherson, my only wish is to help her be happy. I willingly hid aside to be their contact. I often send them letters. Because I was their closest friend, because she was the closest person to me, I hurried to report her my friend's death, lest someone else rush ahead of me and inform her of the disaster in a sudden and cold way. She refused to tell you about our relationship, for fear that you would blame me and make me suffer. Well, please forgive me, I have to go back to school, I need to lie in bed. ”

　　Steherst held out his hand to him and said, "We were overly nervous the previous two days, Murdoch, please don't remember past misunderstandings. In the future we will get to know each other better. After saying that, the two of them held hands in a friendly way and walked out. The officer didn't go, looking at me with wide bull-like eyes.

　　"Oh, you can do it!" Finally he shouted, "I've read your deeds before, but I never believed it. You can do it!" ”

　　I had to shake my head, because accepting this compliment would be tantamount to lowering my standards.

　　"I was dull at first — guiltily dull, so to speak. If the body is found in the water, I will solve the case immediately. The towel blinded me, and poor McPherson couldn't care less about drying the water off his body, so I thought he hadn't been in the water. Really, that's where I made my mistake. Haha, Mr. Officer, in the past I used to joke with your gentlemen of the Police Department, this time the cyanide jellyfish almost avenged the Police Department. ”

　　Triangle Wall Villa

　　The adventures I had with Sherlock Holmes were nothing more sudden and dramatic than this one. I haven't seen him in a while, and I don't know what his recent activities have been. But this morning he had a good conversation, and he had just asked me to sit on the old couch by the fireplace, and he himself was sitting opposite with his pipe on the opposite side, and someone came. If I'm talking about a crazy bull, maybe I mean it better.

　　With a loud roar, the door was rushed open and a huge black man broke into it. If he hadn't been for his hideous face, he would have given a sense of humor, because he was wearing a bright gray suit with an orange-red tie hanging down. His wide face and flat nose stretched forward vigorously, and his two gloomy black eyes, in an irrepressible rage, took turns looking at the two of us.

　　"Who are you two named Holmes?" he asked.

　　Holmes lazily raised his pipe.

　　"Ha, is it you?" The visitor spoke, taking an unpleasant sneaky step around the table. "Listen, Mr. Holmes, please don't be nosy and let people take care of their own affairs. Do you understand? ”

　　"To put it on," said Holmes, "it is interesting. ”

　　"Ha, you think it's interesting, don't you?" The brute growled, "When I clean up after you, you won't find it interesting." I've dealt with people like you, and after I've cleaned them up, they're honest. Look at this, Mr. Holmes! ”

　　He held out a huge fist and dangled it under Holmes's nose. Holmes looked at his fist with interest. "Were you born like this?" He asked, "Or do you practice slowly?" ”

　　I don't know whether it was because of my friend's cold composure or because I picked up the fire rod, but all in all the visitor's attitude became less energetic.

　　"I've warned you anyway," he said. "I have a friend who's interested in what's going on over there in Haro—you know what I'm referring to—and he doesn't need you to be nosy. Do you understand? You are not the law, I am not the law, and if you are nosy, I am not welcome. Remember that's right. ”

　　"I've long wanted to see you," said Holmes. "I won't let you sit because I don't like the smell on your body. Aren't you steve dixie, the boxer? ”

　　"That's my name, and if you're not polite, I'll take care of you."

　　"Then you don't need it," said Holmes, staring vigorously at the strange ugly mouth of the guest. "But what happened to you killing the lad Perkins outside The Holburn Bar—what's going on?" How do you want to go wow? ”

　　The black man flinched back, his face gray. "Don't talk to me about these useless things." he said. "What do I have to do with perkins?" I was training at the Bullring in Birmingham at the time of the boy's accident. ”

　　"Yes, you can say that to the judge, Steve," said Holmes. "I've been watching your dealings with Barney Stockdale—"

　　"Oh my God! Mr. Holmes—"

　　"All right. That's it. Wait until I need you. ”

　　"Goodbye, Mr. Holmes. I hope you don't care about me coming here today, right? ”

　　"That's unless you tell me who called you."

　　"Then do you still have to ask, Mr. Holmes?" That's the guy you just talked about. ”

　　"Who directed him?"

　　"God, I don't know, Mr. Holmes. And he said to me, 'Steve, you go to Mr. Holmes and say that if he goes to Harrow, his life will be in danger.' That's it, it's all true. Without waiting to ask him anything else, the guest ran out with a cigarette, walking as fast as he could. Holmes smiled darkly as he knocked the ash out of his pipe.

　　"Watson, it's good you didn't break his strong head. I saw you holding the fire stick. In fact, he was a good thing, don't look at the muscles, but a stupid, empty cannon child, it is easy to calm him down, just like just now. He was a member of the Spencer John rogue syndicate and had recently been involved in some despicable business, waiting for me to deal with them at my disposal. His immediate boss, Bane, is a cunning guy. They specialize in attacks, threats, and so on. All I need to know is, who was behind them in this incident? ”

　　"But why are they threatening you?"

　　"It's this Harrow Forest case. Since they have come, I am determined to investigate this case, and since so many people are making a big fuss, it must be a bit of a head start. ”

　　"What the hell is going on?"

　　"Just as I was about to tell you about this, this farce happened. This is a letter from Mrs. Macbury. If you agree to come with me, we'll send her a telegram and leave immediately. ”

　　I read the letter:

　　Mr. Holmes:

　　I have recently encountered a series of strange things related to my house, and I hope to get your help. If I come tomorrow, I will be at home all day. The main house is near Harrow Station. My late husband, Mortimer Macbury, was one of your early customers.

　　Mary Macbury respectfully

　　Address: Triangle Wall Hills, Harrow Forest.

　　"You see, that's what happened," said Holmes. "If you have time, we're on our way."

　　After a short train and horse-drawn carriage journey, we arrived at the residence. It is a brick and wood villa surrounded by an acre of natural grassland. There are three small stacks of pointed gables on the upper windows, which is evidence of the name "Triangle Wall Villa". There is a cluster of lush pine trees behind the house, and the general impression of this place is sluggish and unhappy. But the furniture in the interior is quite elaborate, and we are also received by a very personable elderly lady, who talks and behaves to show that she is educated and cultured.

　　"I still have a clear impression of your husband," said Holmes, "though it was only a small thing I did for him many years ago." ”

　　"Maybe you're more familiar with my son Douglas's name."

　　Holmes watched her with great interest.

　　"How! Are you Douglas Macbury's mother? I had a face to face with him. Of course, who in London doesn't know him. At that time, he was really a toned man! Where is he now? ”

　　"Dead, Mr. Holmes, dead!" He was a counsellor in Rome and died of pneumonia in Rome last month. ”

　　"What a pity. No one could associate such a person with death. I've never met a man as energetic as he was. His vitality is tenacious, truly tenacious! ”

　　"Too tenacious, Mr. Holmes, it was that destroyed him. You always have the impression that he is dashing and handsome, but you have not seen him become a depressed and taciturn person. His heart was broken. It was almost a month before I watched my graceful child turn into a weary cynic. ”

　　"Is it love—for a woman?"

　　"A devil. Well, I didn't invite you here to talk about my son, Mr. Holmes. ”

　　"Watson and I are listening to you, please speak."

　　"Something extremely weird has happened lately. I've been moving into this house for over a year, and I don't have much contact with my neighbors because I want to close my doors and live a quiet life. Three days ago I met a visitor who claimed to be a property business owner. He said that the house was favored by one of his patrons, and if I was willing to get rid of it, the price would not be a problem. I find it strange because there are several properties with the same conditions for sale nearby, but naturally I am still interested in his proposal. So I offered a price, five hundred pounds higher than the price I bought. The matter was immediately closed, but he said that his patron was also going to buy furniture, and asked if I could ask for a price. Some of the furniture here I brought from my hometown, you can see that it is very high-quality furniture, so I asked for a fairly good price. He immediately agreed. I had planned to go abroad, and this transaction was very profitable, and it seems that my future life will be full of wealth and will not be a problem.

　　"Yesterday this man brought the written contract. Fortunately, I passed the contract to my lawyer, Mr. Sutro, who also lived in Harrow. He said to me: 'This is a very quirky contract. You notice no, and if you sign, you don't have the legal right to take anything out of the house – including your personal belongings. When the man came that night, I pointed this out and I told him I only sold furniture.

　　"'No, it's not the furniture, it's everything,'" he said.

　　"'What about my clothes, my jewelry?'

　　"'Of course, of course it will take care of your personal items. But nothing shall be taken out of the room without inspection. My patron is a very generous man, but he has his hobbies and special habits. For him, either buy it all or don't buy it. '

　　"'If that's the case, don't buy it.'" I say. This matter was put on hold. But it's a strange thing, I'm afraid—"

　　At this point, there was an unexpected interference.

　　Holmes raised his hand to stop the conversation, and then he strode to the other end of the room, opened the door with a cry, and pulled into a tall, thin woman, who grabbed her shoulder. The woman struggled desperately and was dragged into the house, screaming like a chicken that had been caught out of a chicken coop.

　　"Let go of me! What are you going to do? She screamed.

　　"It's Susan, what's wrong with you?"

　　"Ma'am, I was about to come in and ask the guest if he was staying with the meal when this man pounced."

　　"I've heard her hiding outside the door for five minutes, but I haven't interrupted your funny narrative. Susan, you're a little out of breath, aren't you? It's a little difficult for you to do this kind of work. ”

　　Susan turned indignantly but in surprise to the man who had caught her. "Who are you?" What right do you have to hold me like that? ”

　　"I just wanted to ask a question in front of you. Mrs. Macbury, have you said to anyone that you are going to write to me and ask me for help? ”

　　"No, Mr. Holmes."

　　"Who sent the letter?"

　　"Susan."

　　"That's it. Susan. To whom do you write or carry a letter saying that your mistress is looking for me? ”

　　"You're blind. I didn't report it. ”

　　"Susan, people with breathlessness can have short lives, and lying is not a good outcome. Who did you tell that? ”

　　"Susan!" Her mistress said loudly, "I see you're a cunning bad woman. I remembered that you were talking to a man by the fence. ”

　　"That's my private business," Susan replied angrily.

　　"What if I told you that the man you were talking to was Barne?"

　　"Now that you know, what else do you ask?"

　　"I wasn't sure, but now I'm sure. Well, Susan, if you tell me who is behind Barne, it's worth giving you ten pounds. ”

　　"That's a man who always tops your ten pounds with a thousand pounds."

　　"So, a rich man?" No, you laugh, you must be a rich woman. By this point we know so much, you might as well name it to earn this ready-made ten pounds. ”

　　"I'd rather see you go to hell first!"

　　"What words! Susan! Mrs. Macbury shouted.

　　"I'm not going to do it. I've had enough of you all. I will call for someone to come and pick up my box tomorrow. With that she went straight out the door.

　　"Goodbye, Susan. Don't forget to use mothball opioid tincture... Then, "Holmes waited for the door to close and immediately turned from joking to serious," this group is serious about a case. You see how nervous they are. The letter you sent me was postmarked at ten o'clock in the morning. Susan immediately reported to Bane. Barne did not hesitate to go to his master for instructions; and he, or she—I was inclined to the mistress, for Susan had just laughed when he thought I was wrong—had drawn up an action plan. Steve, a black man, was approached, and by eleven o'clock the next morning I had been warned. You see, this is a swift and unconcealed action. ”

　　"But what is their purpose?"

　　"That's exactly what needs to be addressed. Who lived in this house before you? ”

　　"A retired Navy colonel, surnamed Ferguson."

　　"Is there anything special about this man?"

　　"I didn't hear of it."

　　"Originally I wondered if he had buried something. Of course, nowadays people bury gold in the Postal Bank, but there are always some crazy freaks in the world. If there were no such people, wouldn't the world be too monotonous? At first I did envision the possibility of burying treasures, but if that were the case, what would they want your furniture for? You don't always have any Raphael originals or Shakespeare's first folio that you don't know, do you? ”

　　"No, there is no more valuable treasure than a royal Derby tea set."

　　"This tea set is not worthy of this big set of mysterious actions. Also, why don't they publicly state what they want? If they want your tea set, they just pay a high price for a tea set, why buy all your things, even pots and pans? No, in my opinion, there is something in your house that you don't know yourself, and if you did, you would never let go. ”

　　"That's what I think too," I said.

　　"Watson agreed, and that's exactly what it is."

　　"So, Mr. Holmes, what the hell is it?"

　　"Let's see if logical analysis alone can set it within a minimum range." You've lived here for a year. ”

　　"It's been almost two years."

　　"That's better. No one asked you for anything for such a long time. Suddenly, within those three or four days, you meet an urgent needer. What do you think this means? ”

　　"That only means," I said, "that whatever is being demanded, it has just entered the dwelling." ”

　　"That's right again," said Holmes. "So, Mrs. Macbury, what's new lately?"

　　"No, I didn't buy anything new this year."

　　"Yes! That's weird. Well, I would like to observe the further development of the situation in order to obtain sufficient information. Is your lawyer a competent person? ”

　　"Mr. Sutero is very capable."

　　"Do you still have a maid?" Was Susan, who had just slammed the door, the only maid? ”

　　"I also have a young maid."

　　"You need to ask Sutro to stay overnight at this house for one or two nights. You may need protection. ”

　　"Where does the danger come from?"

　　"Who dares to say that. The case is indeed unclear. Since I couldn't figure out what they wanted, I had to start from the other end and find the mastermind. Did this self-proclaimed real estate agent leave an address? ”

　　"Leave only business cards and occupations. Haynes Johnson, auctioneer and appraiser. ”

　　"It looks like he can't be found in the phone book." Normal businessmen never conceal the address of their business. Well, please notify me if something new happens. I have taken on your case, and I will definitely succeed in it. ”

　　As we passed the foyer, Holmes's omniscient gaze fell on a few boxes piled up in the corner. The customs labels on them are colorful.

　　"'Milan.'" Lucerne'. This is from Italy. ”

　　"It's all my poor son Douglas stuff."

　　"Haven't you hit a bag yet?" How long has it been since arrival? ”

　　"Arrived last week."

　　"But you just said—well, that's probably the clue." Who knows if there's anything precious in it? ”

　　"Impossible, Mr. Holmes, poor Douglas with only a salary and a small annuity. What can he have at value? ”

　　Holmes pondered.

　　"Hurry, Mrs. Macbury," he said at last. "Immediately ask someone to carry these to your bedroom." Check the inside of the box as soon as possible to see what is really there. Tomorrow I'll listen to the results of your examination. ”

　　Apparently, Triangle Wall Villa was under close surveillance, because when we turned the corner of the fence, we saw a black boxer standing there. We met him suddenly, and in this remote place we showed his vicious image even more. Holmes touched his pocket with his hand.

　　"Touch the pistol, Mr. Holmes?"

　　"No, touch the snuff case, Steve."

　　"You're so funny, Mr. Holmes."

　　"If I follow you, you won't be amused." I spoke to you this morning. ”

　　"That's right, Mr. Holmes, I have considered your words this morning, and I do not want anyone to mention the Perkins affair again. If I can work for you, you'll speak. ”

　　"Well, tell me who your master is in this case."

　　"Oh my Goodness! I'm telling you the truth, Mr. Holmes, I don't know. My boss Bane gave me orders, and that was it. ”

　　"Well, you remember, Steve, the wife in this house, and everything in the house, is under my protection. Don't forget. ”

　　"Well, Mr. Holmes, I remember."

　　"Watson, it seems that he really frightened me in order to save his life," said Holmes as we walked forward. "If he really knew who his patron was, I think he would have betrayed him." Thankfully I have a little bit of what happened to john's group, of which Steve is a member. Watson, it seems that Randall Pike is needed in this case, and now I will go to him. I'll probably know a little bit more about it when I get back. ”

　　I never saw Holmes again, but I could imagine how he had spent the most of the day. Randale Pike is a living reference book about all social hearsay aspects of Holmes. The eccentric and laid-back figure spent his entire waking hours in the belly window of a club on St. James Avenue, where he received and forwarded gossip stories across the capital. His four-digit income is said to be earned entirely on contributing to tabloids, which are for the pastime of the good-doing people. In the muddy waters of London society, as long as there is a slight whirlpool, it will be automatically and accurately recorded by this human witness. Holmes was always cautious in helping Randall gain knowledge, and sometimes accepted his help.

　　I went to Holmes's room early the next morning, and from his attitude I knew that the situation was good, but who knew that there was an accident waiting for us, and that was the following telegram:

　　Please come now. The residence was stolen. The police were present. Sutero

　　Holmes whistled. "The drama reached its climax, and it came sooner than I expected. Watson, there is a powerful force behind this case, and I will not be surprised by this, because yesterday I heard a little news. This Sutero is, of course, her lawyer. I didn't ask you to stay there and guard yesterday, I was a mistake. It seems that this Sutro is a soft bone. No way, let's go to Harrow. ”

　　This time, the Triangle Wall Villa is very different from yesterday's orderly appearance. At the entrance of the garden stood a few idlers watching the bustle, and two other policemen were inspecting the windows and the flower beds planted with geraniums. Inside the house, we met an old white-haired gentleman who claimed to be a lawyer, and next to him was a red-faced, busy police officer who came up and circled Holmes as an old acquaintance. "Hey, Mr. Holmes, this time there is no matter of your interference, it is purely an ordinary theft case, and the low-level police can handle it, and there is no need for experts to ask." "Of course, the case is in the hands of capable policemen," said Holmes, "are you saying that it's just ordinary theft?" ”

　　"That's right. We know exactly who committed the crime and where to go to find them. It was the Barney group, and the black man—someone had seen them nearby. ”

　　"Very clever! What did they steal? ”

　　"Well, it seems they didn't succeed very well, Mrs. Macbury was anesthetized, and the house was anesthetized—well, the mistress came."

　　The hostess who received us yesterday, pale and very weak, came in with the help of a little maid.

　　"Mr. Holmes, you gave me very correct advice yesterday," she said with a wry smile, "damn it, but I didn't do it." I did not want to trouble Mr. Sutero, and I was unguarded. ”

　　"I only heard about it this morning," the lawyer said.

　　"Yesterday, Mr. Holmes advised me to ask someone to stay on guard, but I did not comply, and as a result I suffered a loss."

　　"You seem weak," said Holmes, "and presumably your physical strength cannot support the narration of events." ”

　　"Isn't the incident obvious," the officer said, pointing to his diary.

　　"But if Madame's physical strength permits—"

　　"In fact, there are not many experiences. I think the hateful Susan was driving them through. They must have been very familiar with the house. For a moment I felt the chloroform gauze pressing against my mouth, but I didn't know how long I had been unconscious. When I woke up, there was a man at the bedside, and another man had just gotten up from my son's luggage pile with a roll of paper in his hand, and the luggage was partially opened and covered with things. Before he could escape, I jumped up and grabbed him. ”

　　"You're taking too much risk," the sergeant said.

　　"I grabbed him, but he broke me and the other guy probably hit me because I don't remember anything. Maid Mary heard the noise and shouted out the window, and the police came, but the rogue had already fled. ”

　　"What did they take?"

　　"I don't think anything valuable was lost. I knew there was nothing in my son's box. ”

　　"Didn't they leave any traces?"

　　"There was a piece of paper that I probably took from the man's hand, and it was left on the floor, so wrinkled that it was the handwriting of my son."

　　"It's his handwriting, it means the paper is useless," the officer said. "If it were a prisoner—"

　　"Clever," said Holmes, "common sense is sound!" However, I was still curious to look at this paper. ”

　　The officer took a large sheet of writing paper from his notebook.

　　"I never let go of anything small," he said solemnly. "That is also my advice to you, Mr. Holmes. After twenty years of work, I learned something, and it's always possible to find fingerprints or something. ”

　　Holmes examined the paper.

　　"Mr. Officer, what's your opinion?"

　　"It seems to me to be the end of an eccentric novel."

　　"It might be the end of a weird story," said Holmes, "and you see the number of pages above." Two hundred and forty-five pages. Where did the two hundred and forty-four pages go? ”

　　"I think the prisoner took it. What good is this for them! ”

　　"It's very inconspicuous to hack into a home and steal something like that. What do you think this means? ”

　　"Yes, it shows that in the panic they catch what they are. I want them to be happy with what they get. ”

　　"Why do you go over my son's stuff?" Mrs. Macbury asked.

　　"Well, they didn't find anything valuable downstairs, so they ran upstairs." This is my analysis. What is your opinion, Mr. Holmes? ”

　　"I've got to think about it. Watson, you come to the window. We stood there and he read the piece of paper. The sentence begins with a half-cut sentence and reads:

　　"...... There was a lot of blood from the knife wounds and wounds on his face, but when he saw the face that he was willing to sacrifice his life for, and the face was indifferently looking at his grief and humiliation, the blood on his face was nothing compared to the blood in his heart. He looked up at her, and she actually smiled, and she actually laughed! Laugh like a heartless devil! In this moment, love perishes, hate arises. Man always has to live for what purpose. Miss, if it weren't for hugging you, then I'd live to destroy you and take revenge. ”

　　"What a strange grammar!" Holmes smiled and returned the paper to the officer. "Did you notice that 'he' suddenly became 'me'?" The author is so excited that at the crucial moment he fantasizes about himself as the protagonist. ”

　　"The article is really not very good," the officer said as he put the paper back in the book. "What, are you gone, Mr. Holmes?"

　　"Since there are experts to handle this case, I am useless here." By the way, Mrs. Macbury, you seem to have said that you had the idea of traveling abroad, didn't you? ”

　　"That has always been my dream, Mr. Holmes."

　　"Where are you going, Cairo?" Madeira? Liviera? ”

　　"Well, if I had money, I'd be traveling the world."

　　"Nice to travel the world. All right. Goodbye. I may send you a letter in the afternoon. As I passed the window, I saw the officer smiling and shaking his head. His smile seemed to say, "This kind of intelligent person is a little crazy." ”

　　"Well, Watson, our journey is finally over," said Holmes as we returned to the hustle and bustle of central London. "I think it's better to finish this thing right away." You'd better come with me, because it's safer to have a witness with a woman like Isadora Klein. ”

　　We hired a carriage and sped toward an address in Grosvenor Square. Holmes had been silent, but suddenly spoke to me.

　　"I said, Watson, do you understand what's going on?"

　　"I don't dare say it yet. All I knew was that we were going to meet the lady behind the curtain. ”

　　"Nice point! But don't you have an impression of the name Isadora Klein? Of course, she was the famous beauty. No other woman has ever been able to match her beauty. She was purely Spanish, the blood of a South American conquistador, and her family had been leaders in Pernambuco, Brazil, for generations. She married Klein, the elderly German sugar king, and soon became the most beautiful and wealthy widow in the world. What followed was a period of doing whatever it wanted. She had several lovers, and Douglas Macbery, one of London's most extraordinary figures, was one of them. Judging from the overall report, he is not a temporary pursuit. He is not a flashy man in the social arena, but a strong and proud man, who has given up everything and hoped to get everything. She, on the other hand, is a belledamesansmerci in romance novels. After her request was met, she was cut in two, and if the other party did not accept her opinion, she would stop at nothing to achieve her goal. ”

　　"So, that's his own story—"

　　"Yes! Now you've strung up the plot! It was heard that she was about to marry the young Duke of Lommont, who was almost old enough to be her son. The Duke's mother may not mind her age, but if a serious scandal comes out, it will be different, so it is necessary—ah, here we are. ”

　　This is one of the most sophisticated residences in London's West End. A servant of the mobile machine gave us our business card and came back to say that the hostess was not at home. Holmes said without disappointment: "Then we will wait for her to return." ”

　　The "machine servant" panicked.

　　"Not being at home means not being at home," said the servant.

　　"Well," said Holmes. "Then we don't have to wait." Please give this note to your mistress. ”

　　As he spoke, he hurriedly wrote three or four words on a page of his diary, folded them and handed them to the servant.

　　"What do you say?" I asked.

　　"I simply wrote: 'So leave it to the police?' I believe this one can put us in. ”

　　Sure enough – surprisingly fast. A minute later we entered a fancy living room, large and beautiful, half light and half dark, set off by the pink electric light of some special occasion. I think the hostess has reached a certain age, and at this point even the most beautiful beauties will prefer the darker light. As soon as we entered the house, she got up from her chair, slender, dignified, with a beautiful figure, her face like a statue, and two handsome Spanish eyes shining a fierce light on us.

　　"Why interfere with me—and this insulting note?" She said with a note in her hand.

　　"Madam, I don't need an explanation. Because I trust your intellect – though I have to admit that your intellect hasn't been very sensitive lately. ”

　　"Why, sir?"

　　"Because you actually think that hired hooligans can scare me into working." No one would have chosen my profession if I hadn't been attracted to adventure. You forced me to study the case of young Macbury. ”

　　"I don't understand what you're talking about. What do I have to do with hiring a rogue? ”

　　Holmes turned impatiently and left.

　　"Yes, I do underestimate your intelligence. Okay, goodbye. ”

　　"Wait a minute! Where are you going? ”

　　"I'm going to Scotland Yard."

　　Before we could get to the door, she chased after him and grabbed his arm. She went from steel to velvet in an instant.

　　"Please sit down, gentlemen. Let's talk a little bit. Mr. Holmes, I think I can tell you the truth. You have gentlemanly sentiment. How sensitive a woman's instinct is to this. I can treat you like a friend. ”

　　"I can't guarantee that you will be treated that way, ma'am. I am certainly not the law, but within my meager capacity I represent justice. I'd like to hear from you, and then I'll tell you how I'm going to act. ”

　　"There is no doubt that it is my stupidity to threaten such a brave person as you."

　　"The stupid thing is that you put yourself in the hands of a bunch of hooligans who might blackmail or betray you."

　　"Wrong! I'm not that simple. Since I promised to tell the truth, I can confess that no one but Barne and his wife, Susan, knows who their patrons are. As for the two of them, this is not the first time—" She smiled and nodded her head plainly.

　　"That's the way it is. You have tested them. ”

　　"They're hounds who don't go out of the way."

　　"Sooner or later, this hound will bite the hand that feeds them. They will be arrested for this theft. The police had kept up with them. ”

　　"They're going to go against the grain. This is the condition under which they are employed. I don't show my face. ”

　　"Unless I ask you to show up."

　　"No, you won't, because you're a dignified gentleman. You don't reveal a woman's secret. ”

　　"First of all, you have to return the manuscript."

　　She let out a string of brisk laughter and walked toward the fireplace. She used a fire stick to pick up a pile of charred things. "Do you want me to return this?" she asked. She smiled at us in a challenged manner, so rogue and well-behaved that I felt that she was probably the most difficult one of Holmes's criminals to deal with. Holmes, however, was indifferent.

　　"This determines your destiny," he said coldly, "and you are quick with your hands and feet, madame, but this time you have gone too far. ”

　　She snapped and threw down the fire stick.

　　"You're so cold!" She said loudly, "Do you want me to tell you all about it?" ”

　　"I think I could tell you."

　　"But you must look at it with my eyes, Mr. Holmes. You must see that this is the action of a woman who is about to be destroyed by her lifelong ambitions. Is there any sin for such a woman to protect herself? ”

　　"The original sin is yours."

　　"Of course, of course, I admit it. Douglas was a lovely kid, but that's the way it was, and he wasn't for my plan. He asked to marry—to marry, Mr. Holmes—to marry an anonymous commoner. He had to do that, nothing else. Later he became quite unreasonable. Since I had given, he thought I had to give forever, and gave him only one person. This is intolerable. In the end I had to make him aware of reality. ”

　　"Hire a hooligan to beat him up outside your window."

　　"It seems that you really know everything. yes. Barney and the lads blew him away, and I admit it was a bit rough. But what about what he did later? How could I believe that a self-respecting gentleman could do such a thing? He wrote a book to describe his own life. I was of course written as a wolf, and he was a lamb. The plot is written in it, of course, with a fake name, but who in the whole city of London can't see it? What do you think of this behavior, Mr. Holmes? ”

　　"I don't think he has crossed the bounds of his legal rights."

　　It was as if the Italian climate had infused him with blood, but at the same time infused with the ancient Spirit of Italian cruelty. He wrote to me and sent me a copy in order to pre-torture me. He said there were two manuscripts—one for me and one for his publisher. ”

　　"How do you know the publisher hasn't received the manuscript yet?"

　　"I already knew who his publisher was. It's not his only novel. I found that the publisher had not yet received a letter from Italy. Then came the news of Douglas's sudden death. As long as that manuscript is still in the world, there is no security for me. The manuscript must be among his relics, and the relics must be given to his mother. I told the gangsters to act, and one of them broke into the house and became a maid. I originally wanted to use legitimate means, and I did so sincerely. I would like to buy the house and everything in it, and I would like to pay any high price. It was only after all the measures failed that I used other means. You see, Mr. Holmes, even if I'm cruel to Douglas — God knows how much I regret it! But what other choice do I have at a time when all my future is in full swing? ”

　　Holmes shrugged.

　　"Well, well," he said, "it seems that I have to make another compensation and not sue as usual." How much does it cost to travel the world the way above? ”

　　The hostess looked at him with wide eyes.

　　"Is five thousand pounds enough?"

　　"Yes, I can see enough!"

　　"It was good. I'll see you can sign me a bill, and I'll be responsible for passing it on to Mrs. Macbury." You have a responsibility to help her change the environment. "Also, mademoiselle," he raised a finger in warning, "you have to be careful!" Be careful! You will never play with fire many times without burning your tender hands. ”

　　Three people with the same surname

　　The story may be a comedy or a tragedy. It has insaneized one person, wounded me, and brought another person to justice. But there's still a hint of comedy in it. Well, let the reader judge for himself.

　　I remember this date very clearly, because it happened in the same month that Holmes refused the knighthood, and he was knighted because of merit, and this credit may one day be written by me. I only mentioned the matter of knighthood in passing, because as a collaborator I should be careful to avoid all rash behavior. However, this incident reminds me of the above date, which was the end of June 1902, shortly after the end of the war in South Africa. Holmes lay in bed for several days in a row, which was exactly what he had done from time to time, but one morning he got up from bed with a large page of paper in his hand, and a sarcastic smile flashing in his grim gray eyes.

　　"Brother Watson, there's a great opportunity for you to get rich now," he said. "Have you heard of garydb's last name?"

　　I admit not to have heard of it.

　　"If you can catch a Garydub, you can make a fortune."

　　"Why?"

　　"That's a long story—and a little whimsical. I don't think anything new has happened to the complex human problems we've studied. This guy is about to come and take our questions, so I won't talk about it until he arrives, but this surname is something we need to look up. ”

　　The phone book was on the table next to me. I opened the book hopelessly and flipped through it. But what surprised me was that there was really this strange surname in the position where it should be arranged. I shouted triumphantly.

　　"Here it is! Sherlock Holmes, right here! ”

　　He took the book.

　　"N. Garydeb," he read, "at 136 Little Ryder Street, West End." Sorry Watson, this may disappoint you, and this is the letter writer himself. We need to find another Garydb to match him. ”

　　As she was speaking, Mrs. Hudson came in with a tray with a business card on it. I took the film and looked at it.

　　"Yes, here!" I exclaimed in amazement, "It's the opening letter of a different name." John Garydeb, attorney, Murville, Kansas, USA. ”

　　Holmes smiled as soon as he saw the business card. "I think you'll have to find another one, Watson," he said, "and this one was planned, but I didn't expect him to come this morning." But anyway, he can tell us a lot of things I need to know. ”

　　Before long, he came in. The lawyer, Mr. John Garideb, was a tall, strong man, with a round, well-looking, neat face, like the characteristics of many American firms. His general image is plump and rather childish, and he gives the impression of a smiling young man. His eyes were striking, and I had rarely seen a pair of eyes so reflective of inner life, so bright, so alert, so quick to reflect every change in thought. His accent is American, but not strange.

　　"Which is Mr. Holmes?" He looked back and forth between the two of us. "Yes, your portrait is very much like yours, Mr. Holmes, and I am sorry to take the liberty. As far as I know, my cognate wrote you a letter, right? ”

　　"Please sit down and talk," said Holmes. "I think you have a lot to discuss." He picked up the stack of writing paper. "You are Mr. John Garydb, mentioned in this document. But you've been in the UK for quite a long time, right? ”

　　"What do you mean by that, Mr. Holmes?"

　　I seemed to see a sudden suspicion in his expressionful eyes.

　　"Your costumes are all British."

　　Garydeb grudgingly smiled. "I have read about your technique in books, Mr. Holmes, but I did not expect that I would be the subject of research. How do you see that? ”

　　"The shoulder-length of your blouse, the tip of your boots—who can't see it?"

　　"Oh, I didn't expect me to look so distinctly British. I came to England for business some days ago, so, as you said, almost all of my attire was London. However, I think your time is precious, and we are not here to talk about socks. Would it be nice to talk about the file you're holding in your hand? ”

　　Holmes in some way angered the visitor, and his boyish face became far less easy-going.

　　"Don't worry, Mr. Garydeb!" My friend comforted him by saying, "Dr. Watson can tell you that these little episodes of mine are sometimes very problematic. But why didn't Mr. Nathan Garydeb come with you? ”

　　"I just don't understand what he's doing pulling you in!" The guest suddenly started a fire, "What does this have to do with you?" It was supposed to be a little business between two gentlemen, and one of them suddenly found a detective! I saw him this morning, and he told me he did this stupid thing, that's why I'm here. I think it's really unlucky! ”

　　"It's not a disgrace to you, Mr. Garydeb. It's purely his overzealous desire to achieve your purpose— a purpose that, as I understand it, is equally important to both of you. He knew I had a way to get information, so naturally he found me. ”

　　The anger on the guests' faces gradually subsided.

　　"Since that's the case," he said, "as soon as I saw him this morning, he told me I had found a detective, and I immediately asked for your address." I don't need the police to meddle in private matters. But if you're just helping us find out who needs it, it doesn't hurt. ”

　　"That is exactly what happened," said Holmes, "and since you have come, sir, we would better listen to you talk about the situation in person." This friend of mine doesn't know the details yet. ”

　　Mr. Garydeb looked me up and down with a not very friendly look.

　　"Is it necessary for him to understand?" he asked.

　　"We often cooperate."

　　"Well, there's no need to keep secrets either. I'll try to tell you the basic facts as briefly as possible. If you're Kansas, it goes without saying you'll know who Alexander Hamilton Garidb is. He really started on the estate, and later made a fortune in Chicago's wheat warehouse, but he bought all the money into a large tract of land, and in the Kansas River valley west of Fort Dodge, there was enough land in your county, pastures, forests, arable land, mining areas, everything, all of which were real estates that made money for him.

　　"He has no relatives offspring — at least I haven't heard of any. But he was proud of his rare surname. That's what made him and I acquainted. I was in the legal business in Topeka, and one day the old man came to the door. Since he met another person named Garydb, he couldn't keep his mouth shut. He had a quirk, and he wanted to look for it seriously, and there was no other Garydb in the world. 'Find me another one with the surname Garydeb!' He said. I told him that I was a busy man who didn't have time to run around all day looking for Garydbs. 'Anyway,' he said, "if the situation develops according to my arrangement, you will have to look for it if you don't want to." I was joking when he was, and who knows soon I found out that his words were very weighty.

　　Because he said this less than a year before he died, leaving a will. This is truly the weirdest testament Kansas has ever seen. He asked for three shares of the property to be divided equally, and I could get one of them, on the condition that I find two more people with the surname Garydeb to share the two estates. Each inheritance is no more than five million dollars, but it must be with the three of us, otherwise nothing can be used.

　　"It was a big opportunity, and I simply put the legal business aside and set out to find garydbs. Not one in the United States. I went all over America, sir, and scraped it with a comb, but not a single Garydeb caught it. Later, I came to my old motherland to try my luck. His last name is really on the London phone book. I found him two days ago and explained the situation to him. But he was also alone, like me, with several female relatives but no men. The will stipulates that there are three adult men. So, you see, there is still one person missing, and if you can help us find another one, we will pay you immediately. ”

　　"You see, Watson," said Holmes with a smirk, "isn't it a little cranky as I say anything?" But, sir, I think the easiest thing to do is to put a notice in the newspaper. ”

　　"I've already boarded, and no one has applied."

　　"Oops! This is a really weird little problem. Well, I can keep an eye out in my spare time. By the way, it just so happens that you're a Topeka native, and I used to have a corresponding friend, the late Dr. Lesand Starr, who was the mayor of Topeka in 1890. ”

　　"Dr. Old Starr!" The guest said, "His name is still revered to this day. Well, Mr. Holmes, I see all we can do is report to you on how things are going. In a day or two you will listen to my letters. With that, the American bowed and left.

　　Holmes had already lit his pipe and sat for half a day with a strange smile on his face.

　　"What do you think?" I finally asked him.

　　"I feel strange, Watson, I'm weird!"

　　"Strange what?"

　　"I've been wondering what the purpose of this man telling us such a whole bunch of lies is. I almost blurted out that and asked him directly—because sometimes it's most effective to go straight to the point—but I took a different approach and made him think he had lied to us. A man came running, dressed in a polished English shirt and knee-bending British trousers that had been worn for more than a year, and in the letter he described himself as an American provinceman who had just arrived in England. He never had his notice on the search bar, and you know I never let go of anything on it. That place is the hiding place of the birds of fright that I like, and have I overlooked even such a pheasant? I never knew topika had a Dr. Starr. There are flaws everywhere. I think he's really an American, but he hasn't changed his accent in London for many years. So what was his motive for pretending to find Garydb? This is worth paying attention to, because if he is a villain, he is also a psychologically complex and scheming guy. Now we need to figure out, is the other one also fake? Hang up on him, Watson. ”

　　I hung up the phone and heard a faint trembling voice on the other end of the phone say:

　　"Yes, yes, I am Mr. Nathan Garydb. Is Mr. Holmes here? I'd love to talk to him. ”

　　My friend answered the phone, and I listened to his intermittent conversation as usual.

　　"Yes, he's been here. I know you don't know him... How long has it been? ...... It's only been two days! ...... Of course, this is a very attractive thing. Are you home tonight? Your people with the same surname won't be at your house tonight, right? ...... Then we will come, and I hope not to interview him. ...... Dr. Watson came with me... I heard that you are reclusive... Well, we'll be at your house around six o'clock. No need to tell an American lawyer... Okay, goodbye. ”

　　It's a lovely late spring twilight, and even the narrow Ryde Street has a golden hue in the sunset light. The street was just a small branch of Archevue Road, just a stone's throw away from the place of Taiborn, which we remember as ominous. The house we visited was an old-style spacious early Georgian building with a green brick façade and two bay windows on only one floor. Our patron lives on the first floor, and the two windows are on the front of the big house where he is active during the day. Holmes pointed to the small bronze medal engraved with the strange surname.

　　"This sign has been nailed for years," he said, pointing to the faded face. "At least that's his real last name, which is a notable point."

　　The house has a common staircase, and the entrance hall is marked with the names of some of the occupants, some offices, some private rooms. This is not a complete set of residential buildings, but a place for bachelors living irregularly. Our patron came out to open the door himself, and he apologized and said that the female laborer left work at four o'clock. Mr. Nathan Garydeb was a tall, muscular man with slightly curved shoulders, thin and bald, in his early sixties. His face was as pale as a corpse, and his skin was dark and bloodless, just like a man who had never moved. Large round glasses, a goatee, and his slightly curved shoulders revealed a voyeuristic expression of curiosity. But the overall impression is kind, although a little quirky.

　　The house was equally eccentric, like a small museum. The room was deep and wide, surrounded by cabinets of all kinds, piled high with specimens of geology and anatomy. On either side of the door are boxes containing butterflies and moths. A large table in the middle of the room was full of fragments of various objects, and a large bronze microscope stood high in the center. Looking around, I was struck by the extent of this man's interest. Here's a box of ancient coins. There was a cabinet of ancient stone tools. Behind the table in the middle of the house is a large shelf of ancient fossils with a row of plaster skulls inscribed with the words "Neanderthals", "Heidelbergers", "Cromaninens" and so on. This man is clearly a lover of multiple disciplines. At this time he was standing in front of us, holding a small sheep in his hand and rubbing an ancient coin.

　　"The Syracuse coins — belong to the heyday," he explained, holding up the coins. "The late period was greatly degraded. I think they were the best ancient coins of their heyday, although some people revere Alexander money more. There's a chair here, Mr. Holmes. Allow me to move the bones away. This gentleman—yes, Dr. Watson—asked you to remove that Japanese vase. You see, these are all my little hobbies. My doctor always says I don't go out, but since there are so many things here that attract me, why should I go out? I dare say that it would take me three months to put together a decent catalog of the contents of a cupboard. ”

　　Holmes looked curiously.

　　"You told me you never went out?" he asked.

　　"Sometimes I drive to the Sasby store or the Christie store. Other than that, I rarely go out. I'm not in good health, and my research is very time-consuming. But Mr. Holmes, you can imagine how amazing—exciting but appalling—surprise it was to me when I heard of this incomparable good fortune. As long as there is one more Garydb, we will surely find one. I had a brother who has passed away, and the female relatives do not meet the conditions. But there will always be other people in the world with the surname Garydeb. I heard that you specialize in strange cases, so I invited you here. Of course, the American gentleman was right, I should have asked his advice in advance, but I was actually well-intentioned. ”

　　"I think it was extremely wise for you to do so," said Holmes. "But do you really want to inherit the American manor?"

　　"Of course not. Nothing can make me leave my collection. But the American gentleman assured that he would buy my property as soon as it was done. Five million dollars was his price. There are more than a dozen specimens on the market that are missing in my collection, but I can't buy them without these hundreds of pounds. You think about how much potential I would have if I had millions of dollars. Honestly, I have a National Museum foundation where I can become the contemporary Hans Sloan. ”

　　His eyes sparkled behind his big glasses. It seems that he will be desperate to find people with the same surname.

　　"We are only visiting to meet and meet, there is no need to disturb your research," said Holmes. "I'm used to being in direct contact with business stakeholders. I don't have many questions to ask you, for you have clearly written the situation in my pocket in this letter, and the visit of the American gentleman has added to the situation. As far as I know, you had no idea there was such a person before this week. ”

　　"That's right. He came to see me last Tuesday. ”

　　"Did he tell you about the meeting with me?"

　　"Yes, he came back to me immediately, he was very angry."

　　"Why are you angry?"

　　He seemed to think it was detrimental to his personality. But he was full of joy when he came back from you. ”

　　"Did he come up with any plan of action?"

　　"Nothing."

　　"Did he ever ask you for or get money?"

　　"No, never!"

　　"Don't you see what purpose he might have?"

　　"No, except for the one he said."

　　"Did you tell him about our phone date?"

　　"I told him."

　　Holmes pondered. I could see his confusion.

　　"Is there something of particular value in your collection?"

　　"Nothing. I'm not a rich man. Although it is a good collectible, it is not worth much. ”

　　"Aren't you afraid of theft?"

　　"Not afraid at all."

　　"How long have you been living in this house?"

　　"It's been almost five years."

　　Holmes's questioning was interrupted by a loud knock at the door. As soon as the master pulled open the latch, the American jumped in excitedly.

　　"Here it comes!" He shook a newspaper and shouted. "I think I should come to you in time." Congratulations, Mr. Nathan Garydeb! You're rich, sir. Our business was successfully concluded and all the best. As for Mr. Holmes, we can only say to you, I am so sorry to bother you for a trip. ”

　　With that he handed the newspaper to his master. The owner stood there staring wide-eyed at the big-letter advertisement in the newspaper. Holmes and I craned our necks to look from behind him, and on it stood:

　　Howard Garyd Boo Agricultural Machinery Manufacturer

　　It operates strapping machines, harvesters, steam and hand plows, seeders, rippers, agricultural carts, four-wheel spring seat carriages and various equipment, and contracts artesian well projects

　　Address: Aston, Grosvenor Building District

　　"Superb!" The host said excitedly. "This time all three of them are together."

　　"I conducted an investigation in Birmingham," the American said, "and my agent sent me this advertisement from a local newspaper." We have to hurry up and get things done. I have written to this man to tell him that you will come to his office tomorrow at four o'clock in the afternoon to negotiate. ”

　　"You want me to see him?"

　　"What do you think, Mr. Holmes?" Don't you think it would be wiser to arrange it this way? I'm a traveling American, I tell a moving story, why do people believe me? And you're an Englishman with solid social connections, and it's impossible for him not to take your words seriously. I could have gone with you if you wished, but I will be very busy tomorrow, and if anything goes wrong over there, I will always heed your call. ”

　　"But I haven't traveled so far in years."

　　"It's nothing, Mr. Garydeb, I've already figured it out for you. You leave at twelve, arrive at two in the afternoon, and come back that evening. All you need to do is meet the person, explain the situation, and make a legal affidavit to prove that there is such a person as him. Oh, my God! He said very excitedly, "I came here from the middle of the United States thousands of miles away, what will you get out of it by walking such a little way to get things done!" ”

　　"Yes," said Holmes, "this gentleman is quite right. ”

　　Mr. Nathan Garydeb shrugged helplessly and said, "Well, if you want me to go, I'll go." Since you have brought so much hope to my life, it is really difficult for me to refuse your request. ”

　　"That will be the end of the day," said Holmes, "and please report the situation to me as soon as possible." ”

　　"I'll report it to you," said the American, "oh, I've got to go." Mr. Nathan, I'll come tomorrow morning and take you on the train to Birmingham. Mr. Holmes, are you on the same path as me? Well, goodbye, and listen to our good news tomorrow night. ”

　　The Americans were gone, and I noticed that the confusion on Holmes's face had disappeared and his look was clear.

　　"Mr. Garydeb, I'd like to visit your collection," he said. "For my profession, all kinds of angry knowledge will be useful one day, and your room is really a treasure trove of this kind of knowledge."

　　Our host was very pleased, his eyes shining behind the big glasses.

　　"I've always heard that you're a man of intelligence," he said, "and if you have the time, I'll show you it now." ”

　　"Unfortunately I don't have time right now. However, these specimens have labels and are also classified, and you can explain them without having to explain them yourself. If I could take the time tomorrow, I guess it wouldn't hurt to see them all over again, right? ”

　　"Unhindered and very welcome. Of course the door will be closed tomorrow, but before four o'clock Mrs. Sandel is in the basement, and she can let you in. ”

　　"Well, I happen to have time tomorrow afternoon, and if you can leave a message for Mrs. Sandel, it won't be a problem." By the way, who is your real estate agent? ”

　　The host was surprised by this sudden problem.

　　"Holloway-Steele Broker, on Ichwol road." But why are you asking this? ”

　　"I also have a penchant for archaeology about house buildings," laughed Holmes, "and I was just guessing whether the building belonged to the Annes or the Georges." ”

　　"It must have been George's."

　　"Yes. But I think it's a little earlier. It doesn't matter, it's easy to ask clearly. Well, goodbye, Mr. Garydb, and I wish you success in your trip to Birmingham. ”

　　The real estate agent was nearby, but it was time to leave for work and we headed back to Baker Street. Holmes returned to this topic after dinner.

　　"Our little problem is over," he said. "You've naturally formed a solution in your head."

　　"I still have a head."

　　"The head is very clear, and the tail has to wait until tomorrow." Didn't you notice the specialness of the ads? ”

　　"I noticed that the word 'plough' was spelled incorrectly."

　　"Did you see it too?" Watson, you have grown. That spelling is wrong in Britain, but it's right in America. The typesetters are lined up. There's also the 'four-wheel spring carriage', which is also an American thing. Artesian wells are much more common in the United States than in the United Kingdom. In short, this is a typical American advertisement, but it claims to be a British company. What do you think is the reason? ”

　　"My conclusion can only be: the advertisement that the American himself placed. What his purpose was, I couldn't understand. ”

　　"That could be explained differently. In any case, he first wanted to get the old antique to Birmingham. There is no doubt about this. I had wanted to tell the old man not to run this trip in vain, but on closer inspection I would let him go and make room. Tomorrow, Watson, tomorrow will be known. ”

　　Holmes went out early in the morning. When he returned at noon, I saw that his face was rather gloomy.

　　"This case is more serious than I originally thought, Watson," he said. "I should tell you the truth, though I know that you will be in danger even more after telling you." After all these years together, I certainly understand your temper. But I must tell you that this trip is quite dangerous. ”

　　"This is not the first time I have taken a risk with you, Sherlock Holmes. I hope this is not the last. Tell me, what is the specific danger this time? ”

　　"We have a tricky case. I have identified Mr. John Garydeb as a lawyer. He turned out to be the 'killer' Evans, with a reputation for insidiousness and viciousness. ”

　　"I still don't understand what's going on."

　　"Of course, your profession doesn't have to memorize the memorabilia of Newgate Prison all day. I just went to visit the old fellow Ofether of the National Police Department. That place, though sometimes unimaginative, is ahead of the curve in terms of rigorous technology. I think in their dossiers they might find clues about our American friend. Sure enough, I found his innocent fat smile in the criminal photo gallery. 'James Winter, aka Morcroft, nicknamed Ivans the Killer', is the name on the photo. Holmes took an envelope from his pocket and said, "I have copied some points from his file: age forty-four. Originally from Chicago. Three people have been reportedly shot in the United States. Escaped from prison through people with political influence. Arrived in London in 1893. In January 1895, he was killed by a gambling card shooting at a nightclub on Waterloo Road. Evans proved to be the first to do the quarrel. The deceased was identified as Roger Pricecott, who was originally a well-known counterfeiter in Chicago. Ivans was released in 1901 and has been under police surveillance ever since, but has not committed any deviant behavior. Dangerous people, often carry weapons and are easy to use. You see, Watson, this is our opponent — an active opponent, there's no denying it. ”

　　"But what kind of fame is he doing?"

　　"It's getting clear. I just went to the real estate agent. They said that our patron had lived there for five years. The room had not been rented out for a year before. Further on, the tenant was an unemployed gentleman named Waldren, whose appearance the real estate developer remembered very well. He was suddenly gone, and there was no more news. He was a tall, bearded, dark-faced man. And Pricecott, the man who was shot and killed by Evans, was also a tall, bearded, and dark-faced man according to the police department. It is conceivable that the American criminal Prescott originally lived in this room that our naïve friend is now considering a museum. You see, there's a clue. ”

　　"What's next?"

　　"Let's figure it out."

　　He took a pistol from the drawer and handed it to me.

　　"I'm carrying my old gun, which I used to use. If our western friend acts according to his nickname, we will have to guard against him. I'll give you an hour's break, and then we'll run errands on Ryder Street. ”

　　When we arrived at Nathan Garydeb's quirky accommodation, it was exactly four o'clock. Mrs. Sandel, the housekeeper, was just about to go home, but she immediately let us in, and the door was fitted with a spring lock, and Holmes promised to lock it when he left. Then the door closed, and she walked out the window with her hat on, and we knew there were only two of us left downstairs. Holmes quickly inspected the scene. In the corner of the house there was a cupboard leaving the wall with a little gap. We hid behind, and Holmes whispered his intentions.

　　"He wanted to lure this honest friend out of the house, but because he was reclusive, he had a lot of trouble. This whole set of Garideb lies made up is for this purpose. I have to admit that there is a little bit of cleverness in it, although the stranger's strange surname does give him an unexpected start. The lies he made up were quite cunning. ”

　　"But what is he trying to achieve?"

　　"That's what we're looking for. As far as I can see, it has nothing to do with our patron anyway. It had something to do with the man he had shot, who might have been his accomplice. Anyway, there are some evil secrets in this room. That's my opinion, and at first I thought our patron might have something of value in his collection that he didn't know. But the criminal Pricecott had lived in this room, and it was not so simple. Well, Watson, we only have to be patient and wait for the changes. ”

　　Time flies. When we heard the door open, we hid a little deeper behind the cabinet. Then there was the sound of metal keys, and the Americans came in. He closed the door gently, looked back alertly, threw off his coat, and went straight to the big table in the middle, acting accurately and quickly, very confidently. He pushed the table aside, pulled up one of the carpets under the table, rolled it up, and then took a small crowbar from his pocket and slammed the floor. Just listening to the sound of the plank sliding open, a square hole immediately appeared in the floor. The killer Evans burned a match, lit a candle head, and disappeared below the ground level.

　　Our opportunity came. Holmes touched my wrist, and we crept together to the mouth of the cave. Although we moved very lightly, the old floor under our feet must have made a noise, because the American head suddenly stuck out of the hole to look at it worriedly. His face turned to us angrily, but gradually turned to a kind of shame, because he found two pistols pointing at his head.

　　"Well, well," he said as he climbed up calmly, "you have one more man than I do, Mr. Holmes. I think that together you will see through my tricks and play me as a fool. Well, I'm done, and you've won me—"

　　Saying that it was too late, he drew a pistol and fired two shots. I felt a heat on my thighs, like a red-hot soldering iron attached to the flesh. Then there was only a click, and Holmes hit him in the head with a pistol, and I saw him lying on the ground with blood on his face, and Holmes searched for his weapon. Then my friend's strong arm reached over and put his arm around me and helped me to sit in a chair.

　　"Didn't hurt, Watson?" My God, you're not hurt, are you? ”

　　When I knew how deep loyalty and fraternity lay behind this cold-skinned face, I felt that it was worth it to be injured once, or even multiple times. His bright, strong eyes were a little moist, and his firm lips trembled a little. This was the only chance for me to see that he had not only a great mind, but a great heart. After so many years of humble and faithful service, I feel content with this feeling.

　　"It's all right. sherlock holmes. Rubbed a little skin. ”

　　He cut my pants with a knife.

　　"You're right," he cried reassuringly, "it's the epidermis that hurts." "He turned his iron face to the captive, who was sitting up in a daze." Count you lucky. If you hurt Watson, you don't have to plan to leave the room alive. What else do you have to say? ”

　　He didn't say anything, just lay on the ground and stared. Holmes took me by the hand and looked together in the small cellar that had been uncovered. The candle that Evans lit was still inside the cave. We saw a pile of rusty machines, large bundles of paper, rows of bottles, and many small bags neatly arranged on small tables.

　　"The printing press—the full equipment of the counterfeiter," said Holmes.

　　"Yes, sir," said the captive, struggling up and slumping down in his chair. "He was the biggest counterfeiter in London. It was Pricecott's machine, and the small bag on the table was two thousand hundred pound counterfeit bills, circulating everywhere, without flaws. Gentlemen, please take it. Let's make a fair deal and let me go. ”

　　Holmes burst out laughing.

　　"Mr. Evans, that's not the way we do things. There is no hiding place for you in this country. You killed Pricecourt, right? ”

　　"Yes, sir, and it was sentenced to five years, although he drew the gun first." It was a five-year sentence, and I deserved a medal with a big plate. No one could see the difference between Pricecott's counterfeit banknotes and British bank banknotes, and if I hadn't removed him, he would have flooded the market with counterfeit banknotes. I'm the only one who knows where he's making counterfeit money. What's so strange about me coming here? When I found out that this man with the strange surname of the tattered child was crouching here and could not go out, I had to try to tell him to move away. Maybe I'd be wiser to get rid of him, that would be easy. But I'm a soft-hearted person, and I never shoot anyone except that the other person also has a gun. You say, Mr. Holmes, what is wrong with me? I didn't move the machine. I didn't hurt this old antique. What's wrong with you catching me? ”

　　"It's just deliberate killing," said Holmes, "but it's not our business, and someone will handle it next." The main thing we want is you, the eloquent person. Watson, hanging police station. They are prepared. ”

　　The above is a synopsis of the facts about the killer Evans and the tricastes he made up. Later we heard that the old patron could not bear the stimulation of the disillusionment of dreams and went insane, and finally entered the sanatorium in Briscotton. The discovery of Pricecott's money printing device was something to celebrate for the police department, as they knew it was there but never found it after his death. Evans did make a contribution to enabling several intelligence officers to sleep in peace, for the counterfeiter was a sophisticated criminal of particular harm to society. Several of them were willing to apply for the plate medal for Evans, but unfortunately the court did not appreciate him so much, so the killer returned to the place where he had just been released.

　　Soldiers with whitened skin

　　Some of my friend Watson's ideas, though limited in number, were surprisingly stubborn. For a long time he had been asking me to write a case record myself. This may be my own doing, because I always take the opportunity to point out to him how superficial his description is, and accuse him of not strictly adhering to the facts and figures, but of accommodating worldly tastes. "Try it yourself!" That was his rebuttal. And when it was my turn to pick up the pen, I had to admit that the content had to be expressed in a way that appealed to the reader. The case recorded below seems bound to appeal to the reader, for it is one of the rarest in my possession, and it happens that Watson did not include it in his collection. Speaking of my old friend and biographer Watson, I would like to explain here that the reason why I did not bother to add a companion in my insignificant research work was not out of sentimentality and whimsy, but because Watson did have its own uniqueness, but out of his own modesty and over-evaluation of my work, he neglected his own characteristics. A collaborator who can foresee your conclusions and the development of your actions is always dangerous, but if every step of development always surprises him and the future always confuses him, it is indeed an ideal partner.

　　According to my notebook, it was in January 1903, just after the end of the Boer War, when Mr. James M. Dodd came to me. He was a burly, tall, energetic, tanned British citizen. At the time, the faithful Watson left me because of his marriage, which was the only selfish act I knew of him during our relationship. I was alone at the time.

　　My habit is to sit with my back to the window and ask the visitors to sit across from me and let the light shine on them. Mr. James M. Dodd doesn't seem to know how to start. Nor did I mean to guide him, for his silence gave me more time to observe him. I felt that it was good for the patron to feel my strength, so I told him some of the conclusions of my observations.

　　"Sir, it looks like you're back from South Africa."

　　"Good, good," he replied in surprise.

　　"Volunteer cavalry troops, right?"

　　"Exactly."

　　"It must be the Middlesex Corps."

　　"Exactly. Mr. Holmes, you are such a magician. ”

　　I smiled at his surprise.

　　"If a robust gentleman comes into my house, his complexion tanned beyond what the English climate can achieve, and the handkerchief is in the cuffs rather than in his pocket, it is not difficult to decide where he came from. You have a short beard, which means that you are not a regular soldier. Your posture is the rider's posture. As for Middlesex, your business card says you're a stockbroker on Scott Morton Street, can you belong to another legion? ”

　　"You really know everything."

　　"I'm the same thing you see, it's just that I'm exercising and paying attention to what I see." But of course you're not here to discuss observation with me. Wondering what happened to the old gardens of Tewkesbury? ”

　　"Mr. Holmes! You—"

　　"Nothing strange, sir. The postmark on your letter is there, and since you are so urgent to ask me to meet, it is obvious that something very important has happened. ”

　　"Yes, it is true, but the letter was written in the afternoon, and much has happened since then. If colonel Emsworth hadn't kicked me out—"

　　"Kick it out!"

　　"Hey, almost. It was a hard-hearted man, this Colonel Emsworth. He was one of the most powerful military discipline officers, and it was an era of popular swearing. If it weren't for Godfrey's face, I would never have tolerated the old colonel's rudeness. ”

　　I lit my pipe and leaned back in my chair.

　　"Can you explain what you said?"

　　My patron laughed sarcastically.

　　"I'm used to thinking you know everything without saying it," he said. "I'll leave it all out there, and I wish you could tell me what these things really mean." I didn't close my eyes all night and was desperately thinking about it, but the more I thought about it, the more I felt that it was a strange thing.

　　"When I joined the army in January 1901 — that was exactly two years ago — Godfrey Emsworth was also in our squadron. He was the only son of Colonel Emsworth, a recipient of the Victoria Medal in the Crimean War, and his son had the blood of a warrior, so he joined the Volunteer Soldiers. In the whole legion, there was no better boy than him. We became good friends, and that friendship can only be formed in the midst of weal and woe. He was my partner—an unusual friendship in the military. In a year of hard fighting, we share life and death. Later, in a battle near the Diamond Valley outside pretoria, he was shot from a shotgun. I received a letter from a Cape Town hospital and a letter from Southampton. Then there was no follow-up, no news, Mr. Holmes, who had not written a single letter for more than six months, and he was my closest friend.

　　"After the war was over, we all came back, and I wrote a letter to his father asking where Godfrey was. No echo. I waited a while and wrote another letter. This was recycled to the reply, short and dry, saying that Godfrey had sailed around the world and could not return for a year. That's just a few words.

　　"Mr. Holmes, this doesn't reassure me. It's a strange thing. He is a young man who is good enough to be friends, and he will never just forget his close friends. It's not like his actions. As it happens, I heard that he was the heir to a large inheritance, and his relationship with his father was not so always compatible. Sometimes the old man is a little oppressive, and Godfrey's fire is a little bigger. I can't believe that reply. I had to ask what was going on. Who knows, my own business has to be cleaned up because I haven't been at home for two years, so I didn't start The Godfrey until last week. However, since I want to do this, I will put everything else down, and I must finish it. ”

　　Mr. James M. Dodd seems to be that kind of person, and you'd better be friends with him than against him. His blue eyes were staring straight at the man, and his square chin was tight.

　　"So, what steps did you take?" I asked him.

　　"My first step was to go to his house—the old Tewkesbury Estate—to see for myself what was going on. So I first wrote a letter to his mother—because I was impatient with his father's frustrated old man—and there was a head-on attack: I said Godfrey was a good friend of mine, and I could tell her many interesting things about our life together. And so on and so forth. I received a rather enthusiastic reply saying they could stay overnight. So I went on Monday.

　　"The old Tewkesbury estate is a remote place, and it's still five miles away from what stop you get off at. There were no carriages at the station, so I had to walk and carry a suitcase, so I walked there in the evening. It was a big winding mansion in a rather large garden. I see this house as a hodgepodge of buildings of all ages, from the foundations of the Elizabethan half-timbered structure to the victorian porches. The house is full of panels, tapestries and faded ancient paintings, and it is a completely mysterious old house. There was an old butler, Ralph, as old as the house, and his wife, even older. She was Godfrey's grandmother, and I had heard him talk about her as if she were second only to her mother, so despite her odd looks, I still had a crush on her. I also liked his mother—she was an extremely gentle, guinea pig-like woman. Only the colonel made me look awkward.

　　"As soon as we met, we had a fight. I wanted to go back to the station immediately, but if I hadn't thought it would have helped him, I would have left a long time ago. I was taken straight to his study. I found him sitting behind a messy desk, tall, with a curved back, a smoky complexion, and a disheveled beard. The red-ribbed nose protruded like an eagle's beak, and two fierce gray eyes stared at me from under the thick eyebrows. At first sight, I understood why Godfrey rarely mentioned other fathers.

　　"'Sir,' he said in a harsh voice, 'I would like to know a little bit about what your real intentions are in this visit.'"

　　"I said I had made it clear in my letter to his wife.

　　"'Yes, yes, you said you knew Godfrey in Africa. Of course, we just listen to you. '

　　"'I have in my pocket the letters he wrote to me.'"

　　"'Please let me take a look.'"

　　He read the two letters I handed him and threw them at me again.

　　"'Okay, so what?'

　　"'Sir, I am good friends with your son Godfrey, and the many memories we have experienced together have brought us together, but he suddenly stopped hearing from me, can I not be surprised?' Isn't it natural for me to want to inquire about him? '

　　"'Sir, I remember that I have written to you and have told you about him. He sailed around the world. He came back from Africa, his health was not good, and both his mother and I thought he should completely recuperate and change the environment. Please tell this situation to all your friends who are concerned about this matter. '

　　"'Do it,'" I said. But please take the trouble of telling me the name of the ship and the route, and the date of departure. Maybe I could try to send him a letter. '

　　This request of mine seems to have embarrassed and angered the owner. His thick eyebrows fell down above his eyes, and he tapped his fingers impatiently on the table. He finally looked up, and it looked like a chess player who had noticed that his opponent had taken a threatening move and he had decided how to deal with it.

　　"'Mr. Dodd,' he said, 'your stubbornness will make many people feel rude and think that you have reached the point of being unreasonable.'"

　　"'Please forgive me, it's all out of friendship with your son.'"

　　"'Of course. I have given this full consideration. But I must ask you to drop these requests. Every family has its own internal affairs, and it is impossible to explain to outsiders, no matter how kind outsiders. My wife would very much like to hear from you about Godfrey's past, but I beg you not to care about the present and the future, for such inquiries are of no benefit and will only put us in a difficult position. '

　　"You see, Mr. Holmes, I have touched the nail and there is no way to get around it. I had to pretend to agree with him, but I secretly swore in my heart that I would never give up until I found out the whereabouts of my friend. It was a very dull night. The three of us ate in silence in a dark old room. The hostess eagerly asked me about her son, but the old man looked displeased. I was very unhappy about the whole thing, so at the earliest moment of polite permission I bid farewell to the owner and returned to my room. It was a spacious and empty room downstairs, like any other room in the house. But after living in the South African steppes for a year, no one pays much attention to living conditions. I opened the curtains and looked out into the garden, and saw that it was a clear night outside, and the half-circle of the moon was shining in the air. Then I sat by the roaring fire with a lamp on the table next to me, and I planned to read a novel to distract my mind. But I was interrupted by the old housekeeper Ralph, who brought some spare coal.

　　"'Sir, I'm afraid you'll need to refuel at night.' It was cold and the room was not warm. '

　　He didn't go out at once, but he stopped in the house for a moment, and when I looked back at him, he was standing there looking at me as if something was in his heart.

　　"'I'm sorry, sir, but I can't help but hear you talk at the dinner table about Young Master Godfrey.' You know, my wife was his wet nurse, so I can almost say that I am his adoptive father, and of course I care about him. Are you saying he's doing well, sir? '

　　"'He's one of the bravest men in the whole legion.' Once he dragged me out of the Boer gun forest, or I might not be here today. '

　　The old butler rubbed his thin hand excitedly.

　　"'That's it, sir, that's exactly what Young Master Godfrey was.' He had courage when he was young. He climbed every tree in the manor. He was not afraid of anything. He used to be a good boy, and yes, he used to be a great lad. '

　　"I jumped up.

　　"'Hey!' I said out loud, 'You said he was a great lad.' Your breath is as if he is gone. What the hell is going on? What happened to Godfrey? '

　　I grabbed the old man's shoulder, but he flinched.

　　"'Sir, I don't know what you're talking about. Please ask the master, he knows. I can't be nosy. '

　　"He was just about to walk out when I grabbed his arm.

　　"'Listen,' I said, 'you have to answer me a question to go, or I'll hold you all night.' Is Godfrey dead? '

　　He didn't dare look me in the eye. It was as if he had been hypnotized. His answer was barely squeezed out of his mouth, and it was a terrible, unexpected answer.

　　"'I'd rather he dies well!' He shouted. Saying that, he pulled hard and ran out of the house.

　　"Mr. Holmes, of course you can imagine that I would not be in a better mood when I returned to the chair in which I had been sitting. What the old man had just said had only one explanation for me. Obviously, my friend was involved in some criminal incident, or at least some dishonorable matter, which was related to the honor of the family. The stern father then sent his son away and hid him so that the scandal would not spread. Godfrey is a reckless daredevil. He was often influenced by those around him. Apparently he fell into the wrong hands and was led to crime. It would be a pity if that were the case, but even then it was my duty to find him and try to help him. I was thinking so anxiously that I looked up and saw Godfrey standing in front of me. ”

　　My patron paused thoughtfully at this point.

　　"Please go ahead." I say. "There's something special about your case."

　　"Mr. Holmes, he was standing outside the window, his face against the glass. I told you just now that I looked out the window at night, and the curtains were half open. His figure was right where the curtain opened. It was a floor-to-ceiling window, so I could see his entire body, but what surprised me was his face. His face was miserable, and I had never seen him so pale. I guess ghosts are probably like that. But his eyes met mine, and I saw that they were the eyes of a living man. As soon as he found me looking at him, he jumped backwards and disappeared into the night.

　　"There is something very surprising about this man's appearance. It wasn't just the paper-white face, but something more subtle—an unseemly, guilty thing—something very different from the frank and cheerful lad I knew. I felt horror.

　　"But if a man has been a soldier for two years and has been dealing with the Boers all day long, his courage is not to be frightened, and he will act immediately when he encounters a change." As soon as Godfrey dodged, I jumped in front of the window. The window switch didn't work, and it took me a little time to open it. Then I jumped out and ran as fast as I could on the garden path, chasing him in the direction I thought he had escaped.

　　"The path is long and the light is a little dim, but I always feel like there's something running ahead of me. I rushed forward and called his name, but to no avail. I ran to the end of the trail, where there were several forks in the road leading to a few huts. I hesitated, and then I distinctly heard the sound of a door closing. The voice came not from the room behind me, but from the darkness ahead. Mr. Holmes, this is enough to prove that what I have just seen is not an apparition. Godfrey did run away from me and closed a door. That's for sure.

　　"There's nothing I can do about it. I had a very restless night, and I was thinking about this problem in my heart, intending to find a theory to explain these phenomena. The next day I felt that the old colonel had somewhat eased up. Since the hostess claimed that there were several interesting places nearby, I took the opportunity to ask if it would be inconvenient for me to stay for another night. The old man reluctantly acquiesced, which bought me a whole day to observe. I already knew with certainty that Godfrey was hiding somewhere nearby, but the exact location and why remained to be solved.

　　"The building is big and winding, and no one knows that there is a legion hidden in it. If the man is hiding inside the building, it will be difficult for me to find him. But the knock at the door I heard wasn't inside the building. I had to go to the garden to find this secret. This is not difficult to do, because the old men are busy with their own affairs, which allows me to carry out my plan.

　　"There were a few huts in the garden, but at the end of the garden there was a slightly larger building—enough for a gardener or a ranger. Could it be the closing sound coming from here? I pretended to be careless, as if I were taking a casual walk and walked toward it. At this moment a short, sharp-bearded man dressed in black and wearing a round top hat came out of the door of the house—not at all like a gardener. Unexpectedly, when he came out, he locked the door upside down and put the key in his pocket. As soon as he turned around, he found me, and a look of surprise appeared on his face.

　　"'Are you a guest of the house?' He asked me.

　　"I said yes, and said I was Godfrey's friend.

　　"'It's a pity he traveled, otherwise he would have been more than willing to see me,'" I explained.

　　"'Good, good,'" he said as if he had done something wrong.'" Come back at another time," he said and walked away. But when I looked back, he was hiding behind the laurel tree at the other end of the garden, standing there observing me.

　　I walked all the way over and looked closely at the little house, but the windows were tightly obscured, which made it seem as if it were empty. If I snoop too boldly, I may even be blown out because I know I am being watched. So I went back inside the building and waited for the evening to continue the investigation. When it was dark and the voices were silent, I slipped out of my window and quietly walked toward the mysterious dwelling.

　　"I said the room was tightly sheltered, and now I find that it still has shutters closed. However, there was a window that revealed the light, so I concentrated on looking in from here. If I'm lucky, the curtains aren't fully closed here, and I can see the scene in the house. The inside is quite bright and clean, the walls are burning and the lights are shining. Across from me sat the short man I had met in the morning, smoking a pipe and reading the newspaper. ”

　　"What newspaper?" I asked.

　　My patron didn't seem very pleased that I interrupted him.

　　"Does it matter?" He asked rhetorically.

　　"It matters."

　　"I really didn't pay attention."

　　"Maybe you see if it's a big newspaper or a small weekly magazine?"

　　"By the way, after you mentioned it, I don't think it's a big deal." Maybe it could be Observer magazine. But to be honest, I really didn't care about such a small thing at the time, because there was another person in the room sitting with his back to the window, and I dare say that he was Godfrey. Of course I couldn't see his face, but I was familiar with the shape of his shoulders. He held his head in his hands, described as very melancholy, and his body was facing the wall fire. I was just about to try to make a move when suddenly someone tapped me heavily on the shoulder, and it turned out that the colonel was standing next to me.

　　"'Come over here, sir!' He lowered his voice and said. Without a word, he walked into the building, and I followed him all the way to my house. He picked up a train timetable in the foyer.

　　"'There's a train going to London at half past eight,'" he said. The carriage was outside the gate at eight o'clock. '

　　His face turned white. As for me, I felt that my situation was too embarrassing, and I could only stutter and say a few apologies that did not match the preface, trying to explain my worries to my friends.

　　"'There is no need to talk about this again,' he said flatly, 'you have shamelessly violated the rights of our families. You came here as a guest, but you became a spy. Sir, I have only one word to say, that is, I will not see you again. '

　　"Now I'm on fire too, and I said something rude.

　　"'I have seen your son, and I think you are not allowing him to see people for personal purposes.' I don't know what your motives were for locking him up, but I'm sure he's lost his freedom of movement. I tell you, Colonel, that unless I know for sure that my friend is safe and healthy, I will never stop my efforts to find out the truth, and I will never be intimidated by any intimidation from you. '

　　"This old fellow's face has become as fierce as the devil, and I really thought he might do it." I just said he was a thin, violent, tall old man, and although I was not a weak man, I had a hard time dealing with him. But he glared at me furiously for half a day and then turned around and walked out. I, on time in the morning, left by train, and my intention was to come to you immediately for your advice and ask for your help, which is why I wrote to you to date. ”

　　These are the questions that my clients have before me. Presumably the savvy reader has seen that this case is not difficult to solve, because only a very limited choice of answers can explain the root cause of the problem. But as simple as it is, there are new and interesting things about this case, so I took the liberty of documenting it. Now I'll use my usual logical analysis methods to narrow down the possible answers.

　　"Servants," I asked, "how many people are there?" ”

　　"By my best estimation, there was only the old butler and his wife. His family's life seemed very simple. ”

　　"So there are no servants in the garden hut?"

　　"No, unless the short man with the beard is a servant." But he seems to have a much higher status. ”

　　"That's very inspiring. Have you ever seen signs of food delivering from one house to another? ”

　　"When you mention this, I remember seeing old Ralph carrying a basket toward the garden in the direction of the bungalow. I didn't think about food at the time. ”

　　"Did you inquire about your visit in the local area?"

　　"Yes. I talked to the train station master and the owner of the hotel in the village. I simply asked them if they knew about my partner Godfrey. Both of them said he had sailed the world. He had been home, but then he had gone out. It seems that the claims about his travels have been accepted by everyone. ”

　　"Didn't you mention your suspicions to them?"

　　"Not at all."

　　"It's wise. This matter is to be investigated. I'm going to go with you to the old Tewkesbury Estate. ”

　　"Today?"

　　But it so happened that I was in the process of settling a case that my friend Watson had recounted. I was also entrusted by the Sultan of Turkey to handle a case that would have extremely serious political consequences if delayed. So it wasn't until early next week (according to my diary) that I was accompanied by Mr. James M. Dodd on my journey to Bedfordshire. As we drove through Easton, I picked up a serious, dark-skinned gentleman with whom I had made an appointment.

　　"It's an old friend of mine," I said to Dodd, "and it may not be useful to ask him to be there, but it may be decisive." There is no need to dwell on this at the moment, we will know when the time comes. ”

　　Anyone who has read Watson's records is already familiar with my approach, that is, in the process of investigating a case, I do not speak much or divulge my thoughts. Dodd seemed a little confused, but without saying anything, the three of us continued on our way together. On the train I asked Dodd another question, deliberately to make our companion hear.

　　"You said you could see your friend's face clearly through the window, so you're sure it's himself, aren't you?"

　　"There is no problem with that. His nose was pressed against the glass, and the light was shining on his face. ”

　　"Wouldn't it be another man who looked like him?"

　　"No way, it's really him."

　　"But you said his appearance had changed?"

　　"It's just that the color has changed. His face was—how could he say that? It was fish belly white, and his skin had turned white. ”

　　"Is the whole face pale?"

　　"I don't think so. The clearest and whitest thing I could see was his forehead, because his forehead was pressed against glass. ”

　　"Did you call him by his name?"

　　"I was shocked and scared and didn't bark. Then I chased him, I already told you, didn't catch up. ”

　　My reconnaissance is basically complete, and it only takes a small case to complete it all. Later, after some travel, we finally arrived at the strange and rambling manor described by Dodd. The one who opened the door was the old housekeeper Ralph. I had already rented the carriage for the whole day, so I asked my old friend to sit in the carriage and wait, and then we asked him to get off. Ralph was a short, wrinkled old man, wearing a traditional black shirt and gray-spotted pants, only a little unusual, he wore yellow gloves, and as soon as he saw us he threw them off and put them on the foyer table. I, as my friend Watson said, had a surprisingly sensitive sense. There was an inconspicuous, but irritating smell in the house. It seemed to come out of the foyer table. I turned, put my hat on the table, got it to the ground again, and bent down to pick it up, taking the opportunity to bring my nose less than a foot closer to the glove. Yes, this strange smell of asphalt does come from the gloves. The reconnaissance has been completed. I entered the study. Alas, I wrote my own records so explicitly, it was not very clever! Watson's writing is so fascinating, isn't it precisely by hiding these links?

　　The Colonel was not in the room, but as soon as he heard Ralph's briefing, he came. We heard his rapid, heavy footsteps coming from the corridor. As soon as he slammed the door, he rushed in, his beard furrowed, his eyebrows standing up, and he was indeed a rare fierce old man. He took our business card in his hand, tore it with force, threw it on the ground, and stepped on it with his feet.

　　"Didn't I tell you, you nosy bastard, I won't allow you to come to my door!" I will never allow you to come again, if you dare to come here again without my permission, I have the right to use violence, and I have shot you!" I'm determined to shoot you!" "As for you, sir," he turned to me, "I give you the same warning. I know your shameful profession, you can go elsewhere to show your skills, I don't need you here. ”

　　"I can't go," said my patron firmly, "unless Godfrey himself tells me that his freedom is not restricted." ”

　　Our reluctant master rang the bell.

　　"Ralph," he ordered, "call the local police station and ask them to send two policemen." Just say there are thieves. ”

　　"Wait a minute," I said hastily, "Mr. Dodd, you should know that Colonel Emsworth has rights, and we have no right to enter his house. On the other hand, he should also know that your actions are purely out of concern for his son. I ventured to say that if I had been allowed to talk to Colonel Emsworth for five minutes, I could get him to change his mind about it. ”

　　"I don't change so easily," said the old colonel. "Ralph, execute the order. What are you waiting for? Call! ”

　　"No," I said and leaned against the door. "The intervention of the police will lead to exactly the end you fear." I took out my notebook and hurriedly wrote a word on a torn page. I handed the paper to the colonel and said, "That's why we're here." ”

　　He stared at the note, and the expression on his face except surprise disappeared.

　　"How do you know?" He spoke weakly, sitting heavily in his chair.

　　"My profession is to get things straight. This is my business. ”

　　He sat there thoughtfully, his thin hands touching his unkempt beard. Finally, he made a helpless gesture.

　　"Well, if you have to see Godfrey, see you." I am not responsible for this, you forced me to do it. Ralph, go and tell Mr. Godfrey and Mr. Kent that we will be there in five minutes. ”

　　Five minutes later we had walked through the garden path to the front of the mystery hut. A short bearded man stood in the doorway with a look of surprise on his face.

　　"It's too sudden, Colonel," he said, "and it completely disrupts our plans. ”

　　"I can't help it, Mr. Kent, we're forced to do that. Is Mr. Godfrey here? ”

　　"Yes, he's inside," he said, turning and leading us into a spacious and simply furnished room. There was a man standing there with his back to the fireplace. As soon as I saw the man, my patron immediately jumped up and held out his hand.

　　"Hey! Godfrey, it's great to see you! ”

　　But the other side waved him back.

　　"Don't touch me, Jimmy. Don't come near me. Yes, you are very surprised! I'm no longer like the stick boy of the cavalry squadron, the first class Amsworth, right? ”

　　His countenance was indeed unusual. It can be seen that he was originally a beautiful man with good features and tanned skin by the African sun, but now there are some strange white patches mixed between the dark skin, which makes his skin white.

　　"That's why I don't see visitors," he said, "you and I don't care, but we don't need your companions." I know you mean good, but that's not good for me. ”

　　"I just want to know for sure that you're safe and sound, Godfrey. I saw you when you looked out of my window that night, and then I was not at ease, and I had to find out the situation. ”

　　"Old Ralph told me you were coming, and I couldn't help but look at you. I wish you hadn't seen me, but then I heard the sound of the window opening, and I ran back to the hut. ”

　　"How did it happen, and why did it happen?"

　　"It's not hard to say," he said, lighting a cigarette, "do you remember the battle that morning at Bufflespru, on the Western Railway Line outside Pretoria?" Have you heard that I was injured? ”

　　"I heard about it, but I don't know the details."

　　"Three of us were cut off from our headquarters. The terrain is very uneven. There's Simpson —the guy nicknamed Bald Simpson—and there's Anderson, and I. We were pursuing the Boers, but they lay in ambush and surrounded the three of us. Both of them were killed, and I was shot in the shoulder like a shotgun. But I desperately lay on my horse and ran for miles before I passed out and fell off the horse.

　　"By the time I woke up, it was already dark, and I struggled to get up, feeling unusually weak. To my surprise there was a house nearby, quite large, with a South African-style veranda and many windows. The weather was cold. You know the chilling cold that strikes at night, it's an disgusting, unbearable cold, very different from a crisp frost. To put it simply, I felt utterly cold, and my only hope was to manage to get to that house. I stood up desperately, dragging step by step, almost unconscious. I only vaguely remember climbing the steps, walking through a large open door, entering a large room with a few beds, collapsing on a bed, and humming with satisfaction in my mouth. The quilt on the bed was spread out, but I couldn't manage that much. I pulled the quilt over my trembling body and fell asleep.

　　"I woke up in the morning, and instead of entering a healthy world, it was as if I had come into a world of nightmares. The African sun shines through the wide, unbowed windows, making this large, white-painted, open dormitory particularly bright. In front of me stood a man as short as a dwarf, with a head as big as a bulb ball, speaking Dutch eagerly in his mouth, waving a pair of sponge-like deformed and fearful hands. A group of people standing behind him seemed to think that the situation was very interesting, but I saw that they couldn't help but give a chill. There is no normal human form. Everyone is either crooked or bloated. The laughter of these ugly monsters is worse than anything else.

　　"It seems that none of them can speak English, but the situation must be clear, because the bigger the head gets, the bigger it gets, and then he pulls me down with his deformed hand while screaming strangely, regardless of the red blood flowing from my wound." This little monster was as powerful as an ox, and if an elderly person in charge hadn't heard the noise of this room coming over, I really don't know what he would have made of me. He scolded me a few times in Dutch, and the man who pulled me avoided it. Then he turned to me and looked at me with wide eyes of surprise.

　　"'How did you get here?' He asked in surprise. 'Don't move! I know you're exhausted and the wound on your shoulder needs to be treated. I'm a doctor, and I'll get someone to bandage you right away. But, boy! You are more dangerous here than on the battlefield. You are in a leprosy hospital, and you spend the night in the leper's bed. '

　　"Jimmy, do I have to say anything else?" It seems that due to the imminent war, these patients were evacuated the day before. The next day, as the British arrived, they were taken back to the hospital by the medical director. He said that even though he thought he was immune, he would never dare sleep in a leper's bed like I did. Later he put me in a separate ward and nursed me attentively, and after about a week I was taken to the General Hospital of Pretoria. "You see, this is my tragedy. I hoped to get away with it, but when I got home, these terrible symptoms on my face finally announced that I had not escaped the fate of infection. What to do? I live in a house that is calm and no neighbors. We have two servants who can be absolutely trusted. It's a place to live. Mr. Kent is a surgeon who is willing to stay with me on the condition of ensuring that he will never leak secrets. This is very simple. The other path is extremely frightening: being isolated for life with people you don't know, never released. But it must be kept in absolute secrecy, otherwise even in this poor and remote area it will cause a mass uproar and sooner or later it will send me to a leprosy hospital. Jimmy, even you can't tell. How my father could have given in today, I really don't understand. ”

　　The colonel pointed at me.

　　"It was this gentleman who made me give in," he said as he opened the note I handed him, which read "Leprosy." "Now that he already knows so much, the safest thing to do is to tell him all."

　　"Indeed," I said, "who would dare to say that there is no benefit in doing so?" It appears that Mr. Kent alone has seen the patient. Allow me to ask if my husband is a specialist doctor for this disease? Because, as I understand it, it's a tropical or subtropical disease. ”

　　"I have the normal knowledge of a qualified doctor," he said with a slightly stoic face.

　　"Sir, I am convinced that you are capable, but I think it is also valuable to listen to the consultation opinions on this case. As far as I understand, you avoid consultations only for fear of stress causing you to hand over patients. ”

　　"Exactly," said the Colonel.

　　"I anticipated this," I explained, "and today I bring a friend whose caution can be absolutely trusted." I've helped him before, so he's willing to offer his advice as a friend rather than as an expert. His name was Sir James Sanders. ”

　　Hearing me say this, the look of surprise on Mr. Kent's face was almost like that of a newly promoted junior officer meeting the head.

　　"I will be proud," he whispered.

　　"Then I'll ask Sir James to come here." He was now waiting in the carriage outside the door. As for us, Colonel, we can go to your study, and I'll explain. ”

　　At this critical moment, it shows how much I need my Watson. He was good at using decent questions and exclamations to exaggerate my art of scouting, and exaggerated my reconnaissance technique, which was only common sense of the system, into a miracle. Now that I'm going to narrate it myself, there's no one to cheer. I had to tell the truth, as I had said that day in the Colonel's study to a few listeners, including Godfrey's mother. "My method," I said, "is based on the assumption that when you have ruled out all impossible conclusions, the rest, however bizarre, must be facts. It is also possible that there are several explanations left, and if so, they will have to be confirmed again and again until in the end only one explanation with sufficient evidence is left. Now let's use this method to study the current case. At first, there were three possible explanations before me for why the gentleman had been segregated or imprisoned in his cottage on his father's estate. It can be assumed that he escaped because of a crime, or did not want to live in an insane asylum because of a mental disorder, and finally because he needed to be isolated because of a certain disease. I can't think of any other explanation. Then, it is necessary to compare and distinguish these conclusions.

　　"The theory of crime cannot be established. I am well aware that there are no unsolved crime reports in the region. If it is a crime that has not yet been exposed, it should be in the interests of the family to get him away or send him abroad, not to hide at home. I don't see how this line of thinking might hold.

　　"The likelihood of insanity is greater. The second person in the hut may be the caretaker. When he came out, he locked the door upside down, which reinforced the assumption that it might be forced confinement. But on the other hand, the compulsion could not have been strict, otherwise the young man would not have run out to see his friend. Mr. Dodd, you remember me exploring arguments, such as asking you what newspaper Mr. Kent read. If it's The Lancet or the British Medical Journal, that helps me think. However, as long as a doctor is accompanied and reported to the authorities, it is legal to leave the insane at home. Why is it so desperate to keep secrets? Thus the idea of insanity cannot be justified.

　　The third possibility, which seems strange, is perfectly realistic. Leprosy is a common disease in South Africa. Due to special opportunities, this young man may be infected. As a result, his family was in a very difficult situation because they were reluctant to hand him over to leprosy isolation hospitals. In order not to be heard and not interfered with by the authorities, it is necessary to keep secrets strictly. If properly paid, it is not difficult to find a loyal doctor to take care of the patient. There is also no reason not to let the patient out at night. Pale skin tone is a common symptom of the disease. The argument for this hypothesis is so sufficient that I am determined to act as if it had been confirmed. When I first arrived here and found Ralph, who was delivering food to the cottage, wearing gloves soaked in disinfectant water, I had even the last doubts dispelled. Sir, I have written only one word to tell you that the secret has been discovered, and the reason why I have written it and not spoken it is to prove to you that I can trust my prudence. ”

　　I was about to finish my little analysis like this when the door opened and the solemn and famous patellologist was introduced. But, as an exception, his sphinx-like serious face was thawed today, and there was a human warmth in his eyes. He stepped toward the colonel and shook his hand.

　　"I tend to give people bad news," he said. "But today's news is not so bad. Not leprosy. ”

　　"What?"

　　"Typical leprosy, also known as ichthyosis. It is a scaly skin disease that affects appearance, is very stubborn, but has the possibility of cure, and is never contagious. Yes, Mr. Holmes, it is indeed a very coincidence. But can it be said that it is all a coincidence? Aren't there some unknown factors at work? Perhaps the young man's fear after contact with the patient produced a physiological effect, simulating what he feared? Anyway, I can vouch for my professional honor – huh! Mrs. Shock! I suggest that Mr. Kent care for her until she recovers from this surprise shock. ”

　　Reptiles

　　Mr. Sherlock Holmes has always advocated that I publish anecdote about Professor Pricebury, which would at least dispel the rumors, which had shaken the universities and reached the academic community in London twenty years earlier. Yet there were always obstacles that prevented me from publishing it, and as a result the truth of the matter was buried in my lead box filled with Holmes's case record. Only today have we been allowed to publish this case, which was handled shortly before Holmes retired. Even today, it is still necessary to be cautious and not to say much.

　　It was September 1903, and on a Sunday evening I received a vague note from Holmes:

　　Please come immediately if you have time – if you don't have time.

　　Ｓ.Ｈ．

　　In his later years our relationship was special. He is a man governed by habits, and he has some narrow and deep-rooted habits, and I have become one of his habits. As a habit, I was like his violin, board tobacco, old pipe, old case index, and some other less decent habits. My usefulness is evident whenever he encounters a difficult case and needs a companion he can rely on in terms of courage. But I have other uses. To his brain, I was like a whetstone. I can stimulate his thinking. He was willing to sort out his thoughts out loud in front of me. It's hard to say that his words were addressed to me, and it's almost as feasible to speak to the wall, but in any case, once he has developed the habit of speaking to me, my expression and the exclamations I have issued have helped him to think. If the usual dullness of my mind sometimes makes him impatient, this irritability actually makes his inspiration burst out more cheerfully. In our friendship, this is my insignificant use.

　　When I got to Baker Street, I saw him hunched over on the couch, knees arched, his pipes clenched, his brow furrowed and thoughtful. It seems he is pondering an annoying question. He pointed to the couch where I used to sit, but didn't say he noticed my presence. This was over for half an hour. Then he suddenly woke up from his meditation and welcomed me back to my hometown with his usual strange smile.

　　"Please forgive me for being out of my mind, Watson," he said. "In the twenty-four hours that have passed, I have been told some very strange situation, and it has caused me to think about some more general questions. I really plan to write a little paper on the use of dogs in scouting. ”

　　"But, Holmes, this has been discussed by others," I said. "Like an elephant hound, a police dog—"

　　"Not this, Watson, of course everyone knows the problem. But there is a more nuanced side to the problem. You probably remember that case, the same time you handled the copper beech case in your sensational way, and I used to infer the criminal habits of the conceited and decent father by observing the activity of the child's mind. ”

　　"Of course, I remember it very clearly."

　　"I think about dogs in much the same way. Dogs can reflect the life of a family. Who has ever seen a cheerful dog in a gloomy family, or a melancholy dog in a happy family? Cruel people must have cruel dogs, and dangerous people must have dangerous dogs. The dog's emotions may also reflect the emotions of the person. ”

　　I couldn't help but shake my head. "Well, I'm afraid it's a bit far-fetched," I said.

　　He had just refilled his pipe and sat down again, ignoring my AE f1.

　　"The theory I just said has a lot to do with the problem I'm currently studying in terms of implementation. It's a mess and I'm looking for a clue. One question might be: Why would Professor Pricebury's wolf dog, Roy, bite him? ”

　　I leaned back in disappointment. Was it just for such a boring little problem that I was summoned from my busy work? Holmes glanced at me.

　　"Watson is still the same!" He said. "You can't always learn that the biggest problems often depend on the most trivial little things. But isn't this weird even if it looks on the surface? You probably heard of Presbury, a famous professor of physiology at Kenzu University, and how could a wolfhound, a veteran scholar of great stature like him, who had always cherished, bite others again and again? What do you think about this? ”

　　"The dog is sick."

　　"This possibility certainly needs to be considered. But this dog does not bite others, and it only bites its owner under very special circumstances, and usually does not make trouble. Watson, very eccentric, very eccentric. It was the ringing of the bell, and it seemed that the young Mr. Burnett had to come a little earlier than the agreed time. I would have liked to talk to you a little more before he came. ”

　　There were urgent footsteps on the stairs, and the knocking on the door was urgent, and then the new patron came in. He was a slender, handsome young man, about thirty years old, well-dressed and generous, with a gentlemanly manner between his manners and the conceit of a communicator. He shook hands with Holmes, as if somewhat surprised by my presence.

　　"Mr. Holmes, my affair is a very sensitive issue," he said. "Please consider that I have a close personal and work relationship with the professor, and I really have no reason to tell my story in front of a third party."

　　"Don't worry, Mr. Burnett. Dr. Watson was the most cautious person, and to be honest, I might need an assistant to help me with this case. ”

　　"Well, let's go to the throne. Please don't mind my prudence. ”

　　"Watson, Mr. Burnett is the assistant professor of the famous professor, lives in the professor's house, and is the fiancé of the professor's daughter. We certainly agree that he is obliged to keep the professor's secret and to be faithful to him. But the best way to show loyalty is to take the necessary steps to clear up this quirky mystery. ”

　　"I hope so too, Mr. Holmes. That's my only purpose. Does Dr. Watson know the basics? ”

　　"I haven't had time to tell him yet."

　　"Then I'd better go through the situation again and then explain the recent developments."

　　"Let me restate," said Holmes, "so that I may try the basic facts which I have." Watson, the professor, was a man of great renown throughout Europe. He had lived the college life all his life and had never had a single slur. He was a widower and had a daughter named Edith. His character is strong, decisive, and almost combative. That's the general situation, and it was like that until a few months ago.

　　Later his routine was broken. He was sixty-one years old, but he was engaged to the daughter of his peer, anatomy professor Morpheus. As I understand it, this engagement is not the rational proposal of an elderly man, but the fanatical courtship of a young man, because he is very enthusiastic. The woman, Alice Morphine, is a well-intentioned young girl, so it is not surprising that the professor's infatuation is not surprising. However, with regard to his own relatives, the professor did not receive complete sympathy. ”

　　"We think he's going too far."

　　"Yes. Excessive, excessive, and contrary to nature. But the professor was wealthy, and the girl's father was not against it. However, my daughter's view is not the same. She also has several other suitors. These people, though less desirable in terms of property status, were comparable to her in age. The girl didn't seem to care about the professor's weirdness, she still liked him. The only obstacle is age.

　　It was at this moment that the professor's normal life was suddenly shrouded in a mystery. He did something he had never done before. He left home and didn't say where he was going. He walked for two weeks and returned exhausted. As for where he went, he didn't say a word, and usually he was the most frank person. As it happened, our patron, Mr. Burnett, received a letter from a classmate from Prague saying that he had the privilege of meeting the professor in Prague but had not been able to speak to him. In this way, the professor's relatives knew where he was.

　　"Now let's talk about the key issues. Just after returning from the professor, he underwent a strange change. He became a sneaky man. The acquaintances around him felt that he was no longer the person they had known before, and there was a shadow that covered his superior nature. His intellect was unaffected, and his lectures were still so talented. But in him there was always something new, something unexpected and ominous. His daughter had always been faithful to her father, and she had repeatedly tried to return to the intimate father-daughter relationship of the past, trying to break his father's mask. And you, Mr. Burnett, made the same effort — but it was all in vain. Now, Mr. Burnett, please speak for yourself about the letter. ”

　　"Dr. Watson, please understand that the professor has always kept no secrets about me, and even if I were his son or brother, I would not get more trust. As his secretary, I handled all his letters, and I opened and sorted his letters. But this has changed since this time when he returned, and he told me that there might have been letters from London with crosses painted under the stamps, which were to be set aside and opened by himself. Later, I received several letters in my hand, with the postmark of London's East End, and the letters were written by uncultured people. If the professor had written a reply, he had not been answered by me, nor had he placed the reply in the basket where we sent it. ”

　　"And the case of the little box," said Holmes.

　　"Yes, little box. When the professor returned from a trip, he brought back a small wooden box. The only item that indicates his travels to the mainland is an elaborately carved wooden box that is generally considered a German handicraft. He placed the wooden box in the tool cabinet. Once I went to look for an intubation and inadvertently picked up the box to look at it. Unexpectedly, the professor was furious and rebuked me with very barbaric words, and I was just out of ordinary curiosity. This was the first time this had happened, and my self-esteem was greatly hurt. I tried to explain that I had just picked up the box by accident, and that all night I felt him staring at me fiercely, and he was obsessed with it. "Speaking of which, Mr. Burnett pulled a small diary out of his pocket." It happened on July 2," he added.

　　"You are truly an ideal witness," said Holmes. "These dates you remember may be useful to me."

　　"The systematic approach is also one of the things I learned from this famous teacher. Ever since I discovered his perverted behavior, I felt a responsibility to study his medical records. So, I wrote it down here, that is, on the second day of July, when he walked from his study to the foyer, Roy bit him. Later, on July 11, a similar incident occurred. I wrote down the same thing that happened on July 20. Then we had to keep Roy in the stables. Roy is a good obedient dog — I'm probably bored to say that. ”

　　Burnett's tone was not very pleased, for Holmes was clearly alone, not listening to him. Holmes stretched his face and stared at the ceiling with both eyes out of his mind. Later, he woke up forcefully and turned around.

　　"Strange things, really strange things!" He murmured, "I haven't heard of this yet, Mr. Burnett." We've pretty much restated the original situation, right? You just said that there has been a new development in the situation. ”

　　At this point, the guest's straight and lively face suddenly darkened, and it was because he remembered the abomination. "Now what I am going to tell happened the night before," he said, "and at about two o'clock in the night I woke up, lying in bed, when I heard a muffled noise moving from the corridor. I opened the door and looked out. The professor lives at the other end of the stairs—"

　　"The date is—" Interjected Holmes.

　　Guests showed apparent impatience with this irrelevant issue.

　　"As I said, it was the night before, the fourth of September."

　　Holmes nodded and smiled.

　　"Please go ahead," he said.

　　"He lives at the other end of the stairs and has to go through my doorway to get to the stairs. The scene I saw that day was so frightening, Mr. Holmes. I don't think my nerves are any weaker than the average person, but the scene of that day terrified me. The entire staircase was dark, with only a window in the middle passing through a ray of light. I saw something moving from the other side of the corridor, a black thing crawling on the ground. It suddenly crawled to the light, and I looked at the professor. He was crawling on the ground, Mr. Holmes, crawling on the ground! Instead of crawling with knees and hands, I crawl with my feet and hands, and my head is hanging down. But his appearance seemed to be relaxed and labor-saving. I was so frightened that I didn't go up to him until he climbed to my door and asked if he wanted me to help the others. His answer was extremely special. He jumped up, cursed one of the most terrible insults, and immediately walked past me and went downstairs. I waited for about an hour, and he didn't come back. He didn't return to the house until about dawn. ”

　　"Watson, what do you think?" Holmes's tone was as if he were a pathologist, asking me about a rare case.

　　"It could be rheumatic low back pain. I've seen a serious patient who walks like this, and the disease is more upsetting than anything else, and prone to tantrums. ”

　　"You really can, Watson! You always get right and down to earth. However, rheumatic low back pain does not make sense, because he immediately jumped up. ”

　　"His body is wonderful," Burnett said, "to be honest, I haven't seen him as good as he is in all these years." But these facts happened. This is not a case that can be solved by the police station, and we are really at a loss, do not know what to do, we vaguely feel that disaster is about to happen. Edith, miss Lesbury, and I felt that I could no longer wait like this. ”

　　"This is indeed an extremely peculiar and thought-provoking case. Watson, what is your opinion? ”

　　"From a doctor's point of view," I said, "I think this is a case that should be handled by a psychiatrist." The old professor's cranial nerves were stimulated by love. He traveled to foreign countries to relieve his love network. His letters and wooden boxes, which may be related to other private matters—such as borrowing money, or stock securities—are kept in boxes. ”

　　And the wolfhound objected to his securities trading. No, Watson, there's an article in there. For now I can only suggest—"

　　Holmes's hint would not have been known to anyone, for the door suddenly opened and a young lady was brought into the house. Burnett jumped up and ran over with both hands outstretched, grabbing her outstretched hand.

　　"Edith, my dear! Nothing happened, right? ”

　　"I feel like I have to come to you, Jack, I'm terrified!" I didn't dare stay there alone. ”

　　"Mr. Holmes, this is the lady I just spoke of, my fiancée."

　　"Well, sir, didn't we just come to this conclusion?" Holmes said with a smile. "Miss Pricebury, presumably you mean to tell us that things are going on again?"

　　Our new guest was a beautiful girl of the traditional British type, who greeted Holmes with a smile and sat down next to Burnett.

　　"I found Mr Burnett not in the hotel and I thought he might be here. Naturally he had already told me he was going to ask you for help. Mr. Holmes, can you help me with my poor father? ”

　　"There is hope for a settlement, Miss Pricebury, but the case is not clear enough. Maybe the new situation you bring can clarify some problems. ”

　　"This is what happened last night, Mr. Holmes. Yesterday he looked very strange all day. I'm sure sometimes he doesn't remember what he did. He seemed to be dreaming. That was it yesterday. He didn't look like my father. His shell is still the same, but it is not actually him anymore. ”

　　"Please tell me what happened yesterday."

　　"I was woken up in the night by the barking of the dogs. Poor Roy, it was now locked next to the stables. I always locked the door of the house before going to sleep, and Jack—Mr. Burnett would tell you, we all had a sense of foreboding. My bedroom was upstairs. It happened that last night my curtains were open and there was good moonlight outside. I was lying on the bed staring at the white window, my ears listening to the barking of the dog, when I suddenly saw my father's face looking at me outside the window. I almost fainted. His face was pressed against the glass, and one hand was raised as if holding against the window frame. If the window was opened by him, I would have gone crazy. That is not an illusion, Mr. Holmes, do not think it is an illusion. I'm sure it took me about twenty seconds to just slump on the bed and look at his face. Then it was gone, but I couldn't move, I couldn't get out of bed and go to the window to see where he went. I lay in bed, in a cold sweat, until dawn. At breakfast he was rude and didn't mention anything about the night. I didn't say anything, I just lied and went into town — I came up here. ”

　　Holmes seemed surprised by the young lady's account.

　　"Mademoiselle, you said your bedroom was upstairs. Is there a high ladder in the garden? ”

　　"No, that's why it's frightening, there's no way to get through the window, and he shows up at the window."

　　"The date is September 5," said Holmes. "It's more complicated."

　　This time it was the turn of the young lady to express surprise.

　　"Mr. Holmes, this is the second time you've mentioned the issue of dates," Burnett said. "Does the date have a significant bearing on this case?"

　　"Probably — probably — but I don't have enough information yet."

　　"Are you thinking that the insanity is related to the operation of the moon?"

　　"No, it's not. My train of thought has nothing to do with that. Maybe you can leave me the diary and I'll check the dates. Watson, I think our plan of action can be finalized. The young lady had already told us—and I had great trust in her intuition—that her father did not remember on certain days what he had done. So we're going to visit him on a date like this, pretending to be him asking us to go. He probably thought he couldn't remember clearly. This way we can observe him from a close distance as a starting point for reconnaissance. ”

　　"That's fine," said Burnett, "but I have to remind you that professors sometimes have a big temper and behave roughly. ”

　　Holmes smiled slightly. "We have reason to go to him as soon as possible, and it can be said that there is a perfect reason to go right away, if my assumptions are realistic. Mr. Burnett, well, tomorrow we will definitely be at Kenzu. If I remember correctly, there was a Chek Inn there, where wine was served above the medium level and the cleanliness of the sheets was above the level of scolding. Sir, our fate in the next few days may fall to worse places than this. ”

　　We were on our way to the famous university town on Monday morning – which was easy for Holmes because he had no home and no job, but for me it was necessary to make desperate arrangements and scrambles, because now my business is not small. Along the way he didn't bring up the case until we had stored our suitcases in the hotel he said he had opened.

　　"Watson, I think we can find the professor before lunch." He lectured at eleven o'clock and was supposed to rest at home at noon. ”

　　"What excuse do you want to make for the visit?"

　　Holmes hurriedly glanced at the diary.

　　"There was a manic period on August 26. We can assume that he did not have much clarity in his mind at such a time. If we insisted that someone had asked us to come, he probably wouldn't dare to deny it. Can you do it cheekily? ”

　　"I had to try it."

　　"There you are, Watson! It is both diligent and diligent, but also strive for excellence. Just try it – that's the motto of the strong-willed. Find a local to take us with you. ”

　　A local, driving a beautiful two-wheeled carriage, led us past a row of old college buildings, turned into a three-strand carriage road, and stopped in front of a pleasant house. The house is surrounded by a lawn full of wisteria. It seems that the professor not only lives comfortably, but also has a luxurious environment. As the carriage approached, we found a gray human head sticking out of the front window, under thick eyebrows, and a pair of sharp eyes wearing tortoiseshell glasses looking at us. A minute later we were really in his private residence, the professor standing before us, and it was his eccentricity that had summoned us from London. There was nothing outlandish in his appearance and demeanor, he was a man with dignified manners, good features, tall physique, and dress, with the dignity of a university professor. The most striking of his facial features were his eyes, sharp and sharp, intelligent to the point of nearly cunning.

　　He looked at our business cards. "Please sit down, gentlemen. I don't know what to teach? ”

　　Holmes smiled peacefully and said:

　　"Professor, that's exactly what I'm asking you."

　　"Ask me?"

　　"Maybe something went wrong. I heard another person say that Professor Kileberley of Kenzu University needs my service. ”

　　"That's the way it is!" I felt a vicious glow in his sharp gray eyes. "You heard that, didn't you?" What is the last name of the person you are telling you? ”

　　"Sorry, Professor, this is somewhat inconvenient. If something goes wrong, it doesn't matter, I have to apologize. ”

　　"Not necessarily. I'm going to figure this out. I'm interested. Do you have any notes, letters, or telegrams that can explain your intentions? ”

　　"Did you mean to say that I invited you to come?"

　　"I'm not good at answering that question."

　　"Of course it is not easy to answer," the professor snapped, "but this question can be easily answered without your help." ”

　　He walked over to the electric bell. The Mr. Burnett, whom we knew in London, came at the bell.

　　"Come in, Mr. Burnett. The two gentlemen came from London and said that someone had asked them to come. You process all my letters, have you registered the letters sent to a man named Holmes? ”

　　"No, sir," Burnett blushed.

　　"That's for sure," the professor glared indignantly at my companion. "Sir," he pressed his hands against the table and leaned forward, "I think your identity is suspicious. ”

　　Holmes shrugged his shoulders.

　　"I can only say it again, we bothered you in vain."

　　"It's not that simple, Mr. Holmes!" The old man screamed, and the expression on his face was particularly vicious. As he spoke, he stood in front of the door and blocked our way, threatening us with both hands furiously. "It's not so easy to want to go!" The muscles in his face twitched with rage and he grinned at us. If It weren't for Mr. Burnett's intervention, we would have had to fight all the way out of the house.

　　"Dear professor," he shouted, "please consider your identity!" Please consider what will happen if it is passed on to the Academy! Mr. Holmes was a famous man. You can't treat him like that rudely. ”

　　So our master—if I could call him that way—reluctantly gave way to the doorway. We thankfully left the house and came to the idyllic carriage road outside. Holmes seemed to find it amusing.

　　"There's something wrong with our erudite friend," he said. "It may have been a bit blunt for us to take the liberty of visiting, but I still achieved the purpose of personal contact. Good fellow, Watson, he must be stalking us, this guy came out and looked for us. ”

　　There was the sound of running behind us, but I was relieved to find that it was not the frightening professor, but his assistant, who appeared at the corner of the carriage road. He gasped and came toward us. ”

　　"I'm so sorry, Mr. Holmes, I owe it."

　　"No, no, Mr. Burnett. This is a professionally unavoidable situation. ”

　　"I've never seen him so unreasonable as he is today. He was getting more and more vicious. Then you can see why his daughter and I are so afraid of something going wrong. But his mind was completely clear. ”

　　"So sober!" Holmes said, "It was my mistake. Apparently his memory was much better than I estimated. By the way, before we go, can you look at the window of Miss Pricebury's room? ”

　　Burnett pulled aside the bushes and walked forward, and we saw the side of the building.

　　"There, the second window in your left hand."

　　"Good fellow, so high. However, you can see that there are vines under the window and water pipes on top to climb. ”

　　"I can't even climb up," Burnett said.

　　"Yes. This is a very dangerous sport for any normal person. ”

　　"I have one more thing to tell you, Mr. Holmes. I got the address of the Londoner who corresponded with the professor. The professor seemed to have written to him this morning, and I found the address on his ink-absorbing paper. It's shameful for a confidential secretary to do such a thing, but what can I do? ”

　　Holmes glanced at the paper and put it in his pocket.

　　"Dolac—it's a strange surname, I think it's probably a Slav. Anyway, this is an important link. Mr. Burnett, we're back in London this afternoon, and I don't see much use in staying here. We can't arrest the professor because he didn't commit a crime. Nor can his movement be limited, as he cannot prove his insanity. No action can be taken at this time. ”

　　"So what do we do?"

　　"Be patient, Mr. Burnett. The situation will develop in no time. If I'm not mistaken, next Tuesday could be a moment of crisis. We will definitely come when we arrive. This period of waiting is very unpleasant, if Miss Pricebury can prolong her stay in London—"

　　"It's not hard."

　　"Then let her stay in London until we inform her that the danger is over." Let him act arbitrarily for now, don't go against him. As long as he goes along with it. ”

　　"Here he comes!" Burnett whispered in horror. From the gap in the branches we saw the tall man coming out of the front hall and looking around. He leaned forward, his hands dangling and swaying, his head looking left and right. The secretary waved goodbye to us and slipped into the bushes. Not long after, we saw him standing next to the professor, and the two men seemed to be talking fiercely as they entered the room.

　　"I think the old professor guessed our actions," said Holmes as he walked with me to the hotel. "Although I have only seen a short time, I think he has a particularly clear and logical mind. It was true that his temperament was fiery, but from his standpoint, his fieryness was not without reason, because the detectives came to follow him and he guessed that it was his own family who asked him to do so. I think Burnett is having a bit of a hard time. ”

　　Holmes stopped at the post office to send a telegram. A call back came that night. He threw the telegram at me.

　　I have visited the business road and met Dolac. Kind, bohemian, slightly older. Open a big grocery store.

　　Maxher

　　"Maihir came after you left," said Holmes, "and he is my handyman who takes care of my daily affairs." It is necessary to know the object of the professor's secret correspondence, whose nationality is related to his trip to Prague. ”

　　"Thankfully, one thing is connected to another," I said, "and right now we seem to be facing a whole bunch of unexplained unrelated events." Let's say what is the connection between a wolfhound bite and a trip to Bohemia? What do they have to do with crawling in the corridors at night? As for your date, that's the most mysterious. ”

　　Holmes smiled and rubbed his hands. We were sitting in an old sit-up room in an old hotel, and on the table was a famous piece of wine that had been mentioned.

　　"Well, let's study the dates first," he said. He put his five fingers together as if he were lecturing in a class. "The diary of this talented young man indicates that there was an accident on the second of July, and since then it has seemed as if it had happened once every nine days, with the exception of one occasion, as far as I can remember. So the last time was on Friday, September 3, which is also in line with the nine-day rule, and the same is true on August 26. This is no coincidence. ”

　　I had to agree.

　　"Therefore, we can tentatively assume that the professor uses a potent drug every nine days, which is short-lived but more toxic." His own violent personality was stimulated even more violently by the medicinal properties. He learned to use the drug in Prague and is currently supplied by a Bohemian distributor in London. It's all interconnected, Watson! ”

　　"Then how do you explain dog bites, the faces of the windows, crawling in the corridors?"

　　"Anyway, we finally got the start. New developments will not take place until next Tuesday. For now, we can only keep in touch with Burnett and enjoy the pleasant views of this moving city. ”

　　The next morning Burnett sneaked in to report the latest news to us. As Holmes said, Burnett's life was not good. Although the professor did not explicitly accuse him of finding us, he had a very rough attitude and obviously complained. But this morning he returned to his original form, and as usual he gave a talented speech to the students. "Leaving aside his abnormal seizures," Burnett said, "he is indeed more energetic and clearer than before." But he changed into a man, no longer the man we remember. ”

　　"In my opinion you have nothing to fear in at least a week," replied Holmes. "I'm a busy man, and Dr. Watson has many patients. We've agreed to meet here at this time next Tuesday, and it would be a surprise to me if we still can't explain the problem — if not eliminate it — before we leave you next time. Before next Tuesday, please write to me about what happened. ”

　　Later, I did not see my friend Holmes for several days. On Monday night I received a brief note from him asking me to wait for him at the train station. On the way to Kenzu, he told me that everything was fine, that the quiet of the professor's family was not disturbed, and that his own behavior was normal. After we had settled in at the Old Quarter Hotel that night, Burnett came to tell us about the same situation. "Today he received a letter from London, with a letter and a small parcel with crosses telling me not to open it. No otherwise. ”

　　"That's probably enough," said Holmes ominously. "Mr. Burnett, I'll see you tonight. If my reasoning is correct, things will come to an end tonight. To achieve this goal, the professor must be placed under observation. I advise you not to sleep, but to observe vigilantly. If you hear him pass by your door, don't alarm him, follow him quietly. Dr. Watson and I will be hiding nearby. By the way, where is the key to that little box you're talking about? ”

　　"On his bracelet."

　　"I think our research has to be about boxes. If there is a last resort, the lock will not be too strong. Are there any strong men in the house? ”

　　"There's a coachman named McPhee."

　　"Where did he sleep?"

　　"Upstairs in the stables."

　　"Probably need him. That's all we have to do now, and we have to wait for things to develop. Goodbye – but I'm sure I'll see you again before the morning. ”

　　Near midnight, we lay an ambush in the bushes directly opposite the professor's front hall. The night was clear, but the temperature was low, and thankfully we were wearing coats. At this time, there was a small wind, and white clouds were galloping through the air, covering the semicircular moon from time to time. Watch here would have been very dull, but thanks to the excitement of anticipation, we were encouraged, plus my friend cheered and said that he was close to the end of this strange case.

　　"If the nine-day cycle is true, the professor must have had a big seizure tonight," Holmes said. "The following events all point to the same result: his strange symptoms have occurred since his return from Prague, and he has corresponded secretly with a Bohemian merchant in London, who may represent someone in Prague, and who, today, he received a package from a merchant. What he used and why he used it, we don't know, but it's not a problem if it always comes from Prague. He used the medicine according to strict regulations, which is the nine-day week spelling, which was the point that first caught my attention. But his symptoms were very odd. Did you pay attention to his knuckles? ”

　　I have to admit not noticing.

　　"The joints are big and calloused, something I haven't seen before. Watson, look at people first. Then look at the cuffs, the knees and the shoes. His eccentric knuckles are only in certain professions—" At this point Holmes suddenly pressed his hand on the door of his head. "Oh, Watson, Watson, how stupid I am!" It seems unbelievable, but it must be so. All points illustrate the same outcome. I didn't even see the connection between these concepts! How could I not see that knuckle? And the dogs! And Fujiko! I should have retreated to the farm of my dreams. Look, Watson! He's coming! Now we can see it for ourselves. ”

　　The door to the vestibule opened slowly, reflecting the light, and we saw the tall figure of the professor. He stood in the doorway in his pajamas, standing upright, leaning forward, his hands hanging before him, just as we had seen him last time.

　　As he walked to the carriage road, a strange change suddenly occurred, and he bent down to climb up with his hands and feet, and jumped from time to time, as if he had excess energy. He climbed forward along the house to his head and turned around the corner. At this time, Burnett slipped out of the door and quietly followed him.

　　"Come on, Watson!" Holmes cried, and we crept through the bushes to a spot where we could see the side of the house, which was the moonlit side. The professor was clearly visible, lying at the foot of the ivy-covered wall, and he suddenly crawled towards the wall with an unexpectedly swift movement. He crawled from vine to vine, grasping it very firmly, obviously aimlessly playing to vent his energy. His pajamas were open and flapped on either side, and he looked like a giant bat clinging to the walls of his room, forming a large black square on the wall illuminated by the moonlight. After a while, he got tired of playing, and one vine after another came down and climbed towards the stables, still in the same strange posture. The wolfhound had come out and barked wildly, barking even more fiercely at the sight of its owner. It straightened the chains and trembled with rage. The professor deliberately lay down where the dog could not reach him, and used various methods to provoke the wolfhound. He grabbed a handful of stones and threw them in the dog's face, grabbed a stick to stab the dog, and dangled his hand in front of the dog's open mouth, doing everything he could to make the dog bark even more wildly. Never in our angry expedition have we ever seen such a peculiar sight, when an unsentimental and dignified figure fell to the ground like a toad to provoke an angry wolfhound, in all sorts of ingenious and deliberately cruel ways, to make the dog jump on its front feet and scream wildly at him.

　　Suddenly something happened! It wasn't that the chain was broken, but that the dog's neck slipped out of the leather ring, because the holster was made for a thick-necked dog. Only to hear the sound of chains falling to the ground, and then I saw people and dogs rolling in a mess, dogs roaring wildly, and people screaming in strange ways. The professor was nearly killed. The wolfhound was biting his throat, his teeth digging deep, and he was unconscious when we caught up to part them. This would have been dangerous to us, but thanks to Burnett's arrival, his shouts immediately brought the dog back to its senses. Shouting led the sleepy coachman from his room upstairs in the stables. "I knew it would be like this," he said, shaking his head, "and I've seen him tease dogs like this." I knew the dog would bite him sooner or later. ”

　　After putting the dog on a leash, we carried the professor to his bedroom together. Burnett had a medical degree and he helped me deal with a broken throat. The canine teeth almost cut off the carotid artery, but the bleeding was severe. Half an hour later, the danger passed. I injected the patient with morphine and he fell into a deep sleep. Only then did we all take a breath, look at each other, and begin to assess the situation.

　　"I felt like I should find a surgical authority to see him," I said.

　　"No!" Burnett exclaimed, "Now the scandal is confined to the family. We are reliable. Once out of the house, it is boundless. Consider his position in college, his reputation in Europe, and his daughter's feelings. ”

　　"Indeed," said Holmes, "I think it is up to us to keep it a secret and not to spread it again, and since we now have freedom of movement, we should prevent it from happening again." Mr. Burnett, bring the key to the bracelet. McPhee watches over the patient and reports any changes to us immediately. Let's see what's in the professor's mysterious box. ”

　　There wasn't much, but enough to tell the story—a little air, another almost full; a syringe; a few letters with crooked handwriting written by foreigners. The marks on the envelopes indicated that they were the ones that had disrupted the secretary's routine, each with the address of the commercial road and the signature of "Dolac". The content is simply a list of new drugs mailed in, or a receipt for the purchase price. But there is also a letter, handwritten by a cultured man, with an Austrian stamp and a Prague postmark. "This time there is a basis!" Holmes shouted as he pulled out his letter. It reads:

　　Dear Colleagues,

　　I have repeatedly considered the situation under the foot since I gave up my toes, and although there are reasons for special need for treatment, I still advocate caution, and the effect of the previous treatment indicates that the drug has considerable dangerous consequences.

　　Great ape serum may have a better effect. But as I said, my user is a black-faced ape, because there are such specimens. Black-faced apes are crawling and climbing, while apes are upright, so they are closer to humans.

　　I would like to ask The Foot to proceed with caution and not to pass on this therapy at an immature stage. I have another client in the UK, all of whom are dorakes as my agent.

　　Please report on your response on time every week. Sincerely

　　Exalted salute

　　H. Lowenstein

　　It turned out to be Lowenstein! The name reminds me of an excerpt from a newspaper about an unknown scientist studying rejuvenation and elixirs in a peculiar way. This is The Lowenstein of Prague! He had a strong serum that was banned by the medical community because he refused to publish a prescription. Let me put this situation briefly. Burnett took a zoological manual from the shelf and read, "'The black-faced ape, the large black-faced ape in the foothills of the Himalayas, is the largest humanoid reptile ape. There are also many details recorded here. Ah, Mr. Holmes, thanks to your help, we have now found the roots. ”

　　"But the real source," said Holmes, "is actually the professor's unfit love affair, which makes the impatient professor think that he must return to his youth in order to attain his goal." If a man wants to surpass nature, he will fall below nature. The highest people, once separated from the great road of human destiny, will become animals. "He sat there with the vial in his hand and pondered for a moment, his eyes staring at the transparent liquid." When I write a letter to this man and tell him that I think it is a crime to circulate this poison, our matter will be settled. But the same kind of thing will happen. Others will come up with smarter solutions. But there is always danger, and it is a real threat to humanity. Watson, think of it, those who seek material, sensual, and worldly pleasures prolong their worthless lives, while those who seek spiritual values are unwilling to defy the higher calling. The result is the survival of the most unwell, so that the world has not become a sinkhole? "Suddenly, the fantasist was gone, and Holmes the actionmaker jumped out of his chair." Mr. Burnett, I see the situation clearly. Every detail was explained. Dogs certainly detected the change earlier than humans. The professor's smell could not escape the dog's nose. Roy bites not the professor, but the ape, just as it was the ape who teased the dog. Climbing is an instinctive game for apes, and his probe into his daughter's window is purely accidental. Watson, there is a train to London in the morning, but let's go to the hotel for a cup of tea before we hurry. ”

　　The Mystery of Thor's Bridge

　　In the bank vault of Cox Limited on Charing Cross Street, there is a well-moved, obsolete tin file box with my name inscribed on it: John Watson, M.D., formerly from the Indian Army. It was stuffed with paper, almost all of which were records of the cases that Mr. Sherlock Holmes had investigated at various times. Some of these interesting cases have not been successfully investigated, and they cannot be described because there is no outcome. Difficult questions without an outcome may be interesting to researchers, but they are tedious for the average reader. In the case of James Filimore, for example, this is the kind of case, the gentleman went back to his home to get an umbrella, and then disappeared from the world. There was also a case, the small motorboat Alicia, which sailed into a small mist on a spring morning and disappeared, and the people on board never heard from again. Then there is the case of Isadora Bossano, a well-known journalist and duelist who one day suddenly went completely insane, staring at a matchbox containing a strange nameless fleshworm. In addition, there are cases involving the privacy of certain families, which, if published publicly, will cause panic among many people in high society. I would never do anything that leaks secrets, it goes without saying. Since my friend currently has time to dwell on this issue, it is time to clean up and destroy these old records. In addition, there were a considerable number of case files, with varying degrees of interest, which I could have edited and published, but I did not organize it, considering that the excessive reading might affect the reputation of the person I particularly respected. Some of these cases, in which I have participated in the case and have been able to speak as witnesses, or some of which I have not participated in or have only been asked a little questioning, can only be described as a third party. The following story is my personal experience.

　　It was a windy morning in October. When I got up to get dressed, I saw how the wind had swept away the remaining leaves of the French plane tree standing tall in the backyard. I went downstairs for breakfast, thinking that my friend must be depressed, because, like all great artists, his state of mind is susceptible to circumstances. Unexpectedly, however, he had almost finished his breakfast, and his mood was unusually cheerful, and he had the somewhat ominous excitement that was characteristic of when he was happy.

　　"Do you have a case in your hand, Holmes?" I asked.

　　"Inference is contagious, Watson," he replied, "and you have also used inference to study my secrets." Yes, there is a case. After a month of chicken bug trivia and stagnation, the wheels turned again. ”

　　"Can I participate?"

　　"There aren't many actions to take part in, but we can discuss it together until you eat the old eggs that the new cook cooked for us." The heat of the eggs is not unrelated to the Family Magazine I saw yesterday at the front office table. Even small things like boiled eggs require attention such as counting time, which conflicts with the love story in that fine magazine. ”

　　After a quarter of an hour the table was removed and we sat face to face. He took a letter out of his pocket.

　　"You've heard of The King of the Gold Mines, Nell Gibson, haven't you?" he asked.

　　"You mean the U.S. senator?"

　　"Yes, he was once a senator in a western state, but more people know he's the world's largest gold miner."

　　"I've heard of this guy. Didn't he live in England for a long time? His name is familiar. ”

　　"But no, he bought a modest farm in Hampshire five years ago. Presumably you've heard of his wife's tragic death? ”

　　"I remembered. That's why he became a news figure. But I don't know the details. ”

　　"I also didn't expect this case to find me on my head, otherwise I would have gotten the abstract right," he waved toward a stack of papers on a chair. "In fact, although the case is a sensation, the plot is simple and clear. Although the defendant's personality is moving, it cannot hide the certainty of the evidence. This is the view of the autopsy jury, and it is also the view of the police court prosecution. The case has now been referred to the Winchester Circuit Court for trial. I'm afraid that handling this case will be laborious and unflattering. I can discover the facts, but I can't change the facts. Unless new, unexpected facts are found, there is little hope for my patrons. ”

　　"Your patron?"

　　"Hey, I forgot to tell you. Watson, I'm also infected with your slippery slippery habit. You look at this letter first. ”

　　He handed me a roughly handwritten codex that read:

　　The Claridge Hotel october 3rd

　　Mr. Holmes's Great Book:

　　I can't watch the kindest woman in the world die without doing my best to rescue her. I could not give any explanation, nor did I attempt to explain, but I knew for sure that Miss Dunbar was innocent. You know what happened – who wouldn't know? The matter has become national news. But no one stood up to speak for her! It was this injustice that almost drove me crazy. This woman's heart is so good that even a fly can't bear to kill. I will visit tomorrow at eleven o'clock, and I wonder if you will find light in the darkness. Maybe I know some clue and I don't realize it. But anyway, everything I know, everything I have, all my life, can be used for you, as long as you can save her. Use all your abilities to be angry with this case.

　　Nell Gibson

　　"You see, it's this letter," Holmes knocked out a bucket of soot he had smoked after breakfast, and slowly loaded it with another bucket of tobacco. "This is the gentleman I am waiting for. As for the plot, you do not have time to grasp so many newspapers at once, and if you are interested in the logical aspect of the case, I would do well to explain it to you briefly. This man, in my opinion, is the most powerful financial magnate in the world, and at the same time the most grumpy and intimidating figure. He married a wife, the victim of this tragedy, about whom I only know that she is in her prime, and because of the young and lovely governess of the family who raised two children, the mistress's decline is even more unfavorable to her. The three men are the protagonists in an old manor house that was the center of British political history. Tragedy: The mistress was found to have been pierced in the brain by a pistol bullet in the garden nearly half a mile from the house, and it was night, and she was wearing a night gown and a shawl. No weapons were found nearby and there were no clues to the murder at the scene. No weapons around, pay attention to this, Watson. The murder appeared to have been carried out at night, and the body was found by rangers at eleven o'clock and examined by police and doctors before being carried home. Maybe that's too short, can you understand? ”

　　"The situation is clear. But why suspect female teachers? ”

　　"First, there is clear evidence. On the bottom plate of her closet was found a pistol that had a bullet, the same caliber as the bullet inside the corpse. At this time, he looked directly at her, elongated the words and repeated, "On the bottom plate of her wardrobe." Then he was silent again. I could see a thought in his head that was coming alive, interrupting him recklessly. Suddenly, he woke up again. "Yes, Watson, the pistol was found. It's true that it can be condemned, isn't it? Both juries thought so. In addition, the deceased had a note on her body asking her to meet at the bridge, signed by a female teacher. What do you think? This explains the motivation. Senator Gibson was an attractive man. If his wife died, who would have more hope of inheriting her than the young lady, who, according to various materials, had already been eagerly favored by her master? Love, possessions, status, everything depends on the death of a middle-aged woman. Vicious, really vicious! ”

　　"Indeed, Sherlock Holmes."

　　In addition, she could not bring up evidence that she was not at the crime scene. Instead, she had to admit that she had been to Thor Bridge shortly before the accident time— the site of the tragedy. She couldn't deny it, because the passing villagers saw her in that place. ”

　　"It seems that the case can be decided."

　　"Yet, Watson, yet! The bridge is a wide stone bridge with stone balustrades that span the narrowest part of a deep, long pond with reeds on its shore. This is called Lake Thor. At the head of the bridge lay corpses. That is the basic fact. However, I think our patron came, much earlier than the agreed time. ”

　　Billy had opened the door, but the name he had given was unexpected. Mr. Marlowe Bates is a man whom none of us know. He was a thin, neurotic man with frightened eyes and a quick and hesitant demeanor—a man on the verge of a nervous breakdown in my eyes as a doctor.

　　"You're so excited, Mr. Bates," said Holmes. "Please sit down and talk. I can only talk to you for a moment because I have a date at eleven o'clock. ”

　　"I know," the visitor gasped, bursting out short sentences like a man who could not catch his breath. "Mr. Gibson is coming. He is my employer. I am the manager of his farm. Mr. Holmes, he was a bully, a big bully. ”

　　"You're overly vocal, Mr. Bates."

　　"I had to step up the tone, time was limited. I must not let him find out that I am here. He saw it. But I didn't have the conditions to come early. His secretary, Mr. Ferguson, told me this morning about his appointment with you. ”

　　"And you're his manager?"

　　"I have offered my resignation. In a week or two I will be freed from his slavery. He was a cold man, cold to everyone. His donations to charity were only meant to cover up his criminal activities. But his wife was the main victim. He was cruel to her, cruel! How she died I don't know, but I dare say he made her life miserable and desperate. She's tropical, Brazilian, of course you know. ”

　　"I haven't heard that."

　　"Tropical birth, tropical character. Daughter of heat, daughter of passion. She loved him with that passion, but when her charm faded—I heard she was very beautiful—she never got his favor again. We all liked her, sympathized with her, and hated his bad attitude towards her. But he was able to speak the word, very cunning. That's what I'm going to tell you. Don't listen to his rhetoric, there's something worse in his stomach. I'm leaving. No! Don't leave me! And here he comes. ”

　　The guest glanced at the clock in fear and ran out the door with his legs out.

　　"Look at that! This thing! Holmes paused for a moment and said,

　　Mr. Gibson appeared to have a very loyal family, but the warning was useful. Now I'll wait for myself to come. ”

　　At exactly eleven o'clock we heard heavy footsteps on the stairs, and the famous millionaire was let into the house. At first sight, I understood not only the horror and hatred of his manager, but also the curses of his countless corporate rivals. If I were a sculptor and wanted to mold a typical successful entrepreneur, a figure with a steel will and a cold heart, then I would definitely choose Mr. Nell Gibson as my model. His tall, thin, rocky figure gave a sense of hunger and greed. Replacing the nobility of the image of Abraham Lincoln with a lowly example is somewhat similar to his. His face appeared to be an uneven, ruthless head carved from granite, deeply wrinkled and scarred, showing the danger of anger. His cold gray eyes, shrewdly shining under thick eyebrows, looked back and forth at both of us. When Holmes introduced my name, he bowed slightly, and then, in a dignified and composed manner, pulled a chair straight over to my friend and sat down, knees almost on each other.

　　"Mr. Holmes, let me put it bluntly," he said, opening his mouth, "and I will never bother to deal with this case." You can burn the banknotes as torches, as you need to illuminate the words of truth. This woman is innocent, this woman must be washed away, it is your responsibility. You raise the fee! ”

　　"I am paid a fixed amount for my business," said Holmes coldly, "and I will never change it, except that it is sometimes free." ”

　　"Well, if money doesn't matter to you, consider the hope of fame." If you do this case, newspapers all over The United Kingdom and all of America will take you to the skies. You'll be a newsmaker on both continents. ”

　　"Thanks, Mr. Gibson, but I don't need to hold it. You may find it strange that I would rather work without a name. I'm interested in the issue itself. Talking about this is a waste of time. Tell the truth. ”

　　"As far as I can read, the newspaper has already made all the main points. I'm afraid I can't come up with anything new to help you. However, if there is anything you have asked for clarification, I am here to answer it. ”

　　"Well, there's only one point."

　　"What is it?"

　　"What is your actual relationship with Miss Dunbar?"

　　The Golden King jumped in shock and half-stood up from his chair. Then he regained his extreme composure.

　　"I suppose it is within your right to ask such a question—even in the performance of your duties, Mr. Holmes."

　　"I agree with you."

　　"Then I can assure you that our relationship is entirely between the employer and a young female teacher who only talks to her in front of the child."

　　Holmes got up from his chair.

　　"I'm busy, Mr. Gibson," he said, "and I have no time or interest in having an unrelated conversation. Goodbye. ”

　　The guest also stood up, his large, flabby body condescending to Holmes. There was a flash of anger under his furry eyebrows, and his gray-yellow cheeks were slightly flushed.

　　"What do you mean, Mr. Holmes?" Are you rejecting my case? ”

　　"Well, at least I reject you personally." I believe my words have been made clear. ”

　　"It's clear, but what's the implication? Raise the price? Afraid of difficulty? Or something else? I have the right to ask for an explanation. ”

　　"You may have the right," said Holmes, "and I can explain it to you." Proceeding with this case is complicated enough to add to the difficulty of misreporting the facts. ”

　　"You're saying I'm lying."

　　"I have expressed my meaning as euphemistically as possible, and if you insist on expressing it with that verb, I have no objection."

　　I immediately jumped up, because the rich man showed an incomparably ferocious expression on his face and raised his huge fist. Holmes smiled lazily and went to get his pipe.

　　"Don't argue, Mr. Gibson. I think even a small quarrel after breakfast is a problem for digestion. I think it's good for you to go for a walk outside and think quietly. ”

　　It took a lot of effort for the Golden King to control his anger. I had to appreciate his self-control, and in the blink of an eye his flames of rage had turned into an indifferent expression.

　　"Well, do as you please. You know how to handle your business. I can't force you to do this case. But what you do today is not good for you. Mr. Holmes, I have defeated men stronger than you. Those who oppose me don't end well. ”

　　"How many people have said this to me, and I am still the same," said Holmes with a smile, "well, goodbye, Mr. Gibson." There's a lot more you need to learn. ”

　　The guest slammed out. Holmes, however, smoked indifferently and stared at the ceiling in amazement.

　　"Any opinion, Watson?" He finally asked.

　　"Well, honestly, considering that he is a man who ruthlessly sweeps away all obstacles in his own way, and his wife may be his obstacle and dislike, as Mr. Bates told us directly just now, then—"

　　"Yes, I see it that way."

　　"But what's going on with his relationship with the female teacher, and how do you see it?"

　　"Trick him, Watson, cheat!" I considered that the tone of his letter was fierce and abnormal, disproportionate to his quiet self-control, and it was clear that he was emotional, and that it was for the sake of the accused and not for the sake of the deceased. If you want to understand the truth, you have to understand the relationship between the three people. You see how calmly I attacked him with a single knife. Later I tricked him and gave him the impression that I knew absolutely certainly, when in fact I was very skeptical. ”

　　"Probably he'll be back?"

　　"Will definetly come back. Definitely coming back. He wouldn't let go of it that way. listen! Isn't the doorbell ringing? The sound of his footsteps. Ah, Mr. Gibson, I said to Watson just now that you should come. ”

　　The Golden King's look when he returned was much quieter than when he left. There was still wounded pride in his angry eyes, but common sense and reason told him that he had to give in if he wanted to achieve his goal.

　　"I have thought again, Mr. Holmes, that I think you have just misunderstood that you mean reckless. You have reason to know the truth, no matter what the facts are, and I respect you for that. But I can honestly say that my relationship with Miss Dunbar has nothing to do with this case. ”

　　"It's up to me to decide, right?"

　　"Yes, I suppose so. You are like a surgeon, you ask to know all the symptoms before you make a diagnosis. ”

　　"Exactly. Exactly. If a patient hides his condition from the doctor, it means that he has an ulterior motive. ”

　　"Maybe so, but you have to admit, Mr. Holmes, that most people are always wary when they are unceremoniously asked to answer how they are in a relationship with a woman—especially if they have real feelings. Who also has some private reservations in the depths of their own souls, do not want outsiders to break in. And you suddenly rush in. But your purpose is good, you can be forgiven, and you are trying to save her. Now that the walls have been torn down and what is hidden has been revealed, you should observe. What do you want to ask? ”

　　"Facts."

　　The Golden King hesitated for a moment, as he did when he was sorting out his thoughts. His cold, deeply streaked face became more melancholy and gloomy.

　　"I can tell you briefly," he said at last, "that there are some things that are painful and difficult to say. I only pick what is necessary to say. I met my wife during the gold rush in Brazil. Maria Pint was the daughter of a Manos official and was beautiful looking. At that time, I was a warm youth, but even if I look back today, I feel that she was a rare beauty at that time. Her personality is also deep and rich, passionate, single-minded, and impulsive tropical temperament, which is completely different from the American women I know. Long story short, I fell in love with her and married her. It wasn't until the romantic poetry passed—and this went through a few years—that I realized that we had nothing in common, nothing at all. My love cooled down. If her love is also cold, it will be easy to do. But you know the miracle of a woman! No matter what I do, it can't affect her feelings for me. The reason I was cold to her, even cruel to her as some people say, was because I knew that if I could destroy her love or turn it into hate, it would be good for us. But there was nothing that could be done. She still loved me dearly, in the English forest as she had been twenty years ago on the banks of the Amazon. Whatever method I tried, she still worshipped me equally.

　　"Then came a Miss Dunbar. She should be advertised to be a tutor for our children. You've probably seen pictures of her in the newspaper. Everyone also recognized her as a very beautiful woman. I do not want to pretend to be nobler than others, and I admit that living in a house with such a woman and having frequent contact with her, it is impossible for me not to have a strong affection for her. Do you blame me, Mr. Holmes? ”

　　"I don't blame you for thinking that, but if you confess to her like that, then I blame you, because it can be said that she is under your protection."

　　"Maybe so," said the rich man, but the reproach temporarily flashed his eyes with the original anger. "I don't pretend to be more noble than myself. I'm afraid that I've been a person all my life who can reach out and take whatever I want, and what I need most is to love this woman and possess her. That's how I told her. ”

　　"Hmm, you did, didn't you?"

　　Once Holmes moved his feelings, he was afraid of people.

　　"I told her that if I could marry her, I would marry her, but it didn't depend on me. I said I didn't care about money, and I was willing to do everything I could make her happy and comfortable. ”

　　"Very generous," said Holmes sarcastically.

　　"Look at you, Mr. Holmes, I have come to you for a question of detectiveship, not of morality. I didn't ask for your criticism. ”

　　"I only took care of this case for the sake of the young lady," Holmes snapped. "I don't think her charge is any worse than what you confessed to doing, your attempt to destroy an unsuspecting woman who sent you under the fence." Rich people like you should be taught a lesson to know that not all people will be bribed by you to forgive your sins. ”

　　I really didn't expect that the Golden King would honestly accept this reprimand.

　　"Now I feel that way myself. I thank God that my plan did not work out. She was determined not to comply, and she was going to resign and go home immediately. ”

　　"Why didn't you leave?"

　　"This, first of all, there are others who depend on her to support, give up their careers, regardless of them, which is something that she cannot bear very much. Because I had vowed never to harass her tranquility again, she agreed to stay. There is another reason. She knows her influence on me, and it's much more powerful than anything else in the world. She wants to use this influence to do good. ”

　　"What to do?"

　　"This, she knows something about my career. Mr. Holmes, that is a very large undertaking— a magnitude not to be imagined by ordinary people. I can build or destroy – and generally I destroy. Destroy not only individuals, but also groups, cities, and even countries. Business is a brutal struggle, and the weak lose. I'm all in. I never cry out for pain, and I don't care if people cry out for pain. But she had a different view, and I think she was right. She was convinced that one man's extra wealth should not be based on the bankruptcy and starvation of a thousand men. That's her point of view, and I believe she can look beyond money to see something longer. She thinks I'm willing to listen to her, and she believes that by influencing my behavior, something good can be done for the public. So she stayed and didn't go. And then it happened. ”

　　"Can you explain this?"

　　The Golden King paused for a moment, clasped his hands in his hands, and was silent.

　　"It's extremely bad for her, and I can't deny that. Women do have their own inner lives, more than men understand. At first, as soon as the accident occurred, I was so surprised that I almost thought that she was completely violating her nature because of overexcitement. I have an explanation in my head, and now I tell you truthfully, whether it's true or not. Obviously my wife is an extremely jealous woman. There is such a jealousy of spiritual relations in the world, which is more terrible than jealousy of physical relations. Although my wife had no reason to be jealous of my relationship with the female teacher—and I knew it—she did feel that the English girl had an influence on my thoughts and actions that she had never had before. While this is a good effect, it does not help. She hated her like crazy, and she always had the blood of an Amazonian woman in her veins. She may have attempted to murder Miss Dunbar—or, rather, threatened her with a gun to tell her to leave us. There may be a wringing, the gun goes off, but instead kills the person with the gun. ”

　　"I have already thought of this possibility," said Holmes. "Arguably, this is the only alternative to deliberate murder."

　　"But she completely denies that this happened."

　　"Denial is not evidence, right? One can understand that a woman in such a terrible situation might return home confused with a gun in her hand. She may even throw it along with her clothes, not knowing it yet, and when the gun is found, she may deny it in vain, because it is impossible to explain it. What do you use to overturn this assumption? ”

　　"Dunbar himself."

　　"Maybe."

　　Holmes looked at his watch. "I believe we can get the necessary permits this morning and get to Winchester by late train. It is very likely that after I have met this young lady, I will play a greater role in this matter with you, although I cannot guarantee that you will reach the conclusion you expected. ”

　　There was a slight delay in obtaining official permission, and as a result, he did not go to Winchester that day, but to the Lake Thor area of Mr. Nell Gibson's estate in Hampshire. He was not accompanied by himself, but he gave us the address of Officer Sargent Coventry, who was the local police officer who initially inspected the scene. It was a tall, thin, pale-skinned man with a somewhat subtrite look that gave the impression that he knew many things he was afraid to say. He also had a problem with suddenly lowering his voice as if it were a big deal, but in fact it was all ordinary words. But behind these superficial flaws, he soon showed that he was a decent and honest man, not arrogant enough to refuse to admit that his abilities were limited and he needed help.

　　"Anyway, I'd rather you come than have someone from Scotland Yard, Mr. Holmes," he said, "and as soon as the police station intervenes, the local police, even if they succeed, have no honor, and if they fail, they will be greatly blamed." And I heard you're fair. ”

　　"I don't sign my name at all," Said Holmes to the melancholy officer who was greatly relieved, "and even if I solve the problem, I will not ask for my name." ”

　　"Sure, you're generous. Your friend Mr. Watson is also honest, I know. Well, Mr. Holmes, as we walk toward that place, I have a question. I'll only tell you alone. "He looked around as if he didn't dare to say." Don't you think that this case may be detrimental to Mr. Gibson himself? ”

　　"I've thought about that."

　　"You haven't seen Miss Dunbar. She is an excellent woman in every way. He probably thought his wife was in the way. And these Americans are more likely to use pistols than we The British. It was his pistol. ”

　　"Is this confirmed?"

　　"Yes, that's one of a pair of pistols."

　　"One of a pair?" Where is the other one? ”

　　"He has many weapons of all kinds. We didn't find exactly the same one as this one, but the magazine was loaded with a pair of guns. ”

　　"If it's really one of a pair, you should always be able to find another one."

　　"We've got all the guns in his house, you can take a look."

　　"I'll talk about it later." Let's go and see the scene together. ”

　　The conversation took place in the officer's hut, which had become a local police station. Half a mile from here, or through the autumn-winded grassland full of golden withered sheep's teeth, we come to a fence gate leading to Lake Thor. Following a path in the Pheasant Sanctuary to a clearing, we saw the zigzag, half-timbered dwelling at the top of the mound, half Indochine style and half George Dynasty building. We have a long, narrow lake full of reeds on our side, the central part being the narrowest. The carriage road crosses the lake along a stone bridge, while the two wings of the lake form some small ponds. The officer stopped at the head of the bridge, pointed to the ground and said:

　　"This is where Mrs. Gibson's body lies."

　　"Did you get here before the body moved?"

　　"Yes, they got me right away."

　　"Who went to find you?"

　　"Mr. Gibson himself. He ran down the house with others when someone shouted something was wrong, insisting that nothing should be moved until the police arrived. ”

　　"It's wise. I learned from the newspaper that the gun had been fired from nearby. ”

　　"Yes, very close."

　　"Is it close to the right temple?"

　　"The muzzle of the gun is right next to the temple."

　　"How did the body fall?"

　　"On the back. There are no traces of gladiatorial struggles. There is no trace. No weapons. In her left hand was the note that Miss Dunbar had given her. ”

　　"You mean you're holding it in your hand?"

　　"Yes, it's hard for us to get her fingers open."

　　"That's very important. This excludes the possibility of someone posting a note to make false evidence. And what else! I remember the note being very short and writing:

　　I'll be at Thor's Bridge at nine o'clock. Ge Dunbar'

　　Is this true? ”

　　"Yes, Mr. Holmes."

　　"Does Miss Dunbar admit that she wrote the note?"

　　"Yes, admit it."

　　"How did she explain this?"

　　"She's ready to go to the circuit court to defend herself. She doesn't say anything now. ”

　　"This case is truly intriguing. The intention of the note is very vague. ”

　　"However," said the officer, "if I am allowed to express my opinion, I think the meaning of the note is the only clear in the whole case. ”

　　Holmes shook his head.

　　Now suppose the note was actually written by her, and of course it was received an hour or two ago. So why did the deceased still hold the strip in his hand? She didn't have to look at the note during the meeting, right? Isn't that weird? ”

　　"After you said that, I also think it is indeed a little strange."

　　"I need to sit down and think about it quietly," he said as he sat down on the stone railing. I could see his alert gray eyes looking everywhere. Suddenly, he jumped up, ran to the opposite railing, and pulled out a magnifying glass to look at the stones.

　　"Strange thing," he said.

　　"Yes, we also saw chisel marks on the railing. I think it may have been chiseled by passers-by. ”

　　The stone was gray, but the notch was white, only the size of a sixpence coin. If you look closely, you can see that it seems to be a trace of a violent blow.

　　"It would take a very heavy impact to chisel like this," said Holmes thoughtfully. He tapped the stone railing several times with his cane, but left no trace. "Sure enough, it was the result of a slam, and it was chiseled into a strange place, under the railing, not against the hand."

　　"But it's at least fifteen feet from the body."

　　"Yes, there are fifteen feet. It may not have anything to do with this case, but it is still worth noting. Well, there's nothing to see in this place. Are you saying that there are no footprints nearby? ”

　　"The ground is as hard as iron plates, Mr. Holmes. There is no trace at all. ”

　　"Then let's go." You can go to the house first and look at the weapons you said. Then I went to Winchester, and I wanted to see Miss Dunbar first. ”

　　Mr. Gibson had not yet returned, and we met at his house the neurotic Mr. Bates who had come to visit us in the morning. He showed us with an evil hint the terriblely arranged weapons of his employer, which had accumulated in his master's adventurous life.

　　"Mr. Gibson has made many enemies, and no one who knows his character and style will be surprised by this," he said. "Every day when he slept, he always had a pistol with a loaded bullet in the bedside drawer. He was a violent man, and sometimes we were all afraid of him. The deceased lady was often frightened by him. ”

　　"Have you ever seen him do something to her?"

　　"Then I don't dare say." But I heard him say almost the same nasty things, not under the touch of his hands, which were cruel and insulting words, even in front of the face of the employer. ”

　　"The Golden King doesn't seem to be very clever in his private life," said Holmes as we walked toward the station. "You see, Watson, we have quite a few facts, some of which are new, but I still can't draw conclusions. Although Mr. Bates obviously disliked his owner, what I got from him was that the owner was undoubtedly in the study when he found out that the accident was happening. Dinner ended at half past eight and everything was normal until then. Of course, the time of discovery was at night, but the event occurred at the moment written on the note. There is no evidence that Mr. Gibson has been outside since returning from town at five o'clock in the afternoon. Instead, Miss Dunbar admitted to having made an appointment to meet Mrs. Gibson by the bridge. She would say nothing else because her lawyer advised her to keep her defense pending trial. I have several very important questions to ask her, and I have to see her to be at ease. I have to admit that this case is very unfavorable to her, except for one point. ”

　　"What is it, Holmes?"

　　"It was in her closet that she found the pistol."

　　"What!" I was surprised and said, "I thought this was the most unfavorable evidence!" ”

　　"Wrong. I was already eccentric when I first read this, and now that I am familiar with the facts of the case, I feel that this is the only valid basis. What we need is non-contradiction. Everything that contradicts itself is faulty. ”

　　"I don't quite understand what you mean."

　　"Well, Watson, suppose you are a woman who premeditated to get rid of a love enemy. You've already planned it. Wrote a note. The other side is coming. You pick up the pistol. You did the case. Everything was neatly done. Could it be that after such a clever crime, you would do something so stupid as a clever murderer that instead of throwing your pistol into the reed pond next to you to kill it, you carefully took the gun home and put it in your closet, knowing that it was the first place to be searched? I said, Watson, people who know you well probably won't say you're a person with a heart and an eye, but even a person like you wouldn't do such a stupid thing. ”

　　"Maybe a momentary emotional impulse—"

　　"No, no, I don't believe there's that possibility. If the crime is planned in advance, the elimination of the stolen goods must also be planned in advance. So, I think we're facing a serious delusion. ”

　　"But your point of view still needs to address a lot of questions."

　　"Yes, we're just going to fix it. Once your perspective is reversed, the most unfavorable evidence becomes a clue to the truth. Take the pistol, Miss Dunbar said she had no idea about the pistol. Extrapolating from our assumptions, she is telling the truth. So the pistol was put in her closet. Who put it? It was the one who planted the booty for her. Isn't that person the one who committed the crime? Lo and behold, we've got a promising clue. ”

　　That night, we had to spend the night in Winchester because the formalities hadn't been done yet. The next morning, accompanied by the budding defence lawyer, Mr. Joes Cummings, we were allowed to see Miss Dunbar in prison. After hearing so many rumors about her, I was ready to meet a beautiful woman, but the impression she gave me was still unforgettable. No wonder the fearsome Golden King also saw in her something more powerful than himself—something that could restrain and guide him. When you look at her powerful, clear-eyed but extremely sensitive face, you will feel that, although she also does impulsive things, there is an inherent nobility in her qualities that always makes her have a good influence on people. She has a light dark complexion, a slender figure, a super vulgar and dignified appearance. However, there was a helpless and mournful expression in her dark eyes, like an expelled beast feeling that a net had been laid on all sides and there was nowhere to escape. When she learned that it was the famous Holmes who had come to see her and to help her, her pale cheeks were stained with blood, and her gaze towards us had a glimmer of hope.

　　"Presumably Mr. Nell Gibson has already told you something about our relationship?" She asked in a low voice of excitement.

　　"Yes," replied Holmes, "you need not speak of any more unspeakable situations. After meeting you, I believe Mr. Gibson is telling the truth, whether it's about your influence on him or your pure relationship. But why are these circumstances not clear in court? ”

　　"I thought the allegations could not have been established. I would have thought that as long as we waited patiently, everything would be clarified, and we would not need to talk about the difficult details of the family. Now I know that instead of clarifying, it is more serious. ”

　　"My young lady," said Holmes loudly and anxiously, "I ask you not to have any illusions about this, for Mr. Cummings can tell you unequivocally that the whole situation is against us, and that we must do our utmost to win." If it is said that you are not in great danger, that is a serious self-talk. Please do your best to help me find out the truth. ”

　　"I will never hide anything."

　　"Then tell me about your relationship with Mrs. Gibson."

　　"She hates me, Mr. Holmes. She hated me with all the fanaticism of her tropical character. She was a thorough person, and the extent to which she loved her husband, she hated me. Maybe she misinterpreted my relationship with him. I'm reluctant to say something unfair to her, but I think her intense love is in the physical sense, so she can't understand the kind of relationship that binds her husband to me intellectually, even spiritually, and she can't imagine that I'm only staying here to be able to exert good influence on his mighty power. Now I see my mistake, I am not qualified to stay, since I have caused unhappiness in others, although it is safe to say that even if I leave, this unhappiness will not disappear. ”

　　"Miss Dunbar," said Holmes, "please tell me exactly what happened that day. ”

　　"I can tell you the truth as far as I know, but I have no way of confirming it, and there are other situations — and most importantly — that I can neither explain nor think of any way to explain."

　　"As long as you can tell the truth clearly, maybe others can explain."

　　"Well, on the question of my going to Thor Bridge that night, it was due to the fact that I received a note from Mrs. Gibson in the morning. The note was placed on the table in the room where I was giving the child a lesson, probably by her own hand. The note said that she had asked me to wait for her at the bridge after dinner, that she had something important to tell me, and that I had asked me to put my reply on the garden rules, because she didn't want anyone to know. I didn't understand why I kept it a secret, but I did as she said and accepted the date. She also asked me to burn her strips, so I burned them in the fireplace in the classroom. She was very afraid of her husband, and he often treated her roughly, and I often criticized him for this, so I just thought she was doing it to keep him from knowing about the meeting. ”

　　"But she kept your note carefully?"

　　"Yes. I was surprised to hear that she was still holding that note in her hand when she died. ”

　　"And later?"

　　"Then I went to Thor Bridge on time. When I got there, she was already waiting for me. It wasn't until this moment that I knew how much this poor man hated me. She was like crazy—I think she was crazy, with the illusory and self-deceptive peculiarity that psychopaths often have. Otherwise, how could she treat me indifferently every day and hate me so much in her heart? I didn't want to repeat what she said. She poured out all her furious hatred in the most fearful and crazy language. I didn't answer a word, I couldn't speak. She didn't look at it that way. I stuck my hand over my ear and ran back. When I left her, she was still standing there screaming at me, right at the head of the bridge. ”

　　"Is that where she was found later?"

　　"Within those few meters."

　　"But suppose she died shortly after you left, didn't you hear the gunshots?"

　　"Nothing. But, to be honest, Mr. Holmes, I was so mentally bored by her scolding that I fled all the way back to my house, and I could not have noticed what had happened. ”

　　"You mean you're back in the house. Did you leave the house again before the next morning? ”

　　"Yes, after the news of the accident came, I ran out with others to see it."

　　"Did you see Mr. Gibson then?"

　　"See, I saw that he had just returned from the bridge. He called for a doctor and a policeman. ”

　　"Do you think he's in a state of shock?"

　　"Mr. Gibson was a strong, self-controlled man. I don't think he's going to be moody. But as someone who knew him very well, I could tell that he was deeply moved. ”

　　"Now let's talk about the most important point, which is the pistol found in your house. Have you seen it before? ”

　　"Never seen it, I swear."

　　"When did you find it?"

　　"The next morning, when the police checked."

　　"In your clothes?"

　　"Yes, on the bottom of my closet, under my clothes."

　　"Can't you guess how long it's been there?"

　　"It wasn't there before the morning before."

　　"How do you know?"

　　"Because I sorted out my closet the morning before."

　　"That's the basis for that. That is to say, someone once came into your house and put a gun there in order to plant a stolen goods. ”

　　"That's exactly what happened."

　　"At what time?"

　　"It can only be at meal time, or when I am teaching my child in the classroom."

　　"That's when you receive the note?"

　　"Yes, from that period and all morning."

　　"Well, thank you, Miss Dunbar. Do you see any other points that will help me investigate? ”

　　"I can't think of it."

　　"There were marks of a sharp blow on the stone railing of the bridge—just opposite the body there were marks of a new blow on the railing. Can you come up with any instructions? ”

　　"I think it's a coincidence."

　　"But very eccentric, Miss Dunbar, very eccentric. Why did traces appear at the time of the accident and at the place of the accident? ”

　　"But how could it have been chiseled like that?" Only a very strong force can be chiseled like that. ”

　　Holmes did not answer. His pale and attentive face suddenly showed that nervous and confused expression, which my experience had taught me was always the moment when his genius burst forth. The moments in his head were so evident that none of us dared to speak. All of us—the lawyer, the detainee, and I—stood guard against him silently and nervously, without a word. Suddenly, he jumped out of his chair, and his body trembled slightly from nervousness and the need for action.

　　"Come, Watson, come!" He shouted.

　　"What's the matter, Mr. Holmes?"

　　"Don't worry, Miss. Mr. Cummings, you're just waiting to hear my letter. With the blessing of the God of Justice, I will solve a case that will make all England rejoice. Miss Dunbar, tomorrow you will get the news, for the time being, please believe me, the clouds are dispersing, the bright prospect of the truth coming, I am full of confidence in this. ”

　　It wasn't far from Winchester to Lake Thor, but for me it seemed far away because of the rush, and for Sherlock Holmes it was infinitely long. Because, due to the extreme excitement of the nerves, he could not sit still, either pacing back and forth in the carriage or tapping the cushion next to him with his long sensitive fingers. Suddenly, near his destination, he sat down across from me—we were alone in a first-class carriage—and he put his hands on my lap and looked me in the eye with a particularly mischievous look (which is typical of his Tao).

　　"Watson," he said, "I remember that you usually go out with me to handle cases with weapons. ”

　　It was good for him that I had a weapon with me, because whenever he thought about the problem with all his might, he didn't care about safety, so on several occasions my pistol was saved. I told him this.

　　"Yeah, yeah, I'm a little absent-minded about this sort of thing. But do you have a pistol on you now? ”

　　I took the gun out of my back pocket, it was a small, short, handy but very skilled small weapon. He took the gun, opened the safety clasp, poured out the bullet, and watched carefully.

　　"Heavy enough —heavy enough," he said.

　　"Yes, it's strong."

　　He took the gun and thought for a moment.

　　"Do you know, Watson," he said, "that I am sure that your gun will be closely bound to the secrets of our investigation." ”

　　"You're kidding."

　　"No, I'm telling the truth. Let's do an experiment. If the experiment is successful, the truth will come out. The experiment depended on the performance of this small gun. Take out a bullet, pack the rest, buckle the safety, and fine! This increases the weight and allows for better experimentation. ”

　　I didn't know what was going on in his head, and he didn't help me figure it out, but just sat there out of his mind, and then we got off at hampshire station. We hired a broken carriage, and in a quarter of an hour we arrived at the home of our beloved friend, the police officer.

　　"Got a clue, Mr. Holmes?" What clues? ”

　　"It's all up to Dr. Watson's pistol," my friend said, "and that's the pistol." Mr. Officer, can you give me ten yards of rope? ”

　　So I bought a ball of sturdy string from the village shop.

　　"That's enough," said Holmes. "Well, if it's convenient for you, we're ready to make the last leg of our journey."

　　The sun is setting in the west, illuminating the endless Hampshire wilderness into a wonderful autumn picture. The officer reluctantly walked with us, and from time to time gave my friend a critical and skeptical look, as if he was suspicious of whether he was mentally normal. As I approached the scene, I could see that my friend, though seemingly calm, was actually very excited.

　　"Yes," he said, answering my question, "you've seen me fail before, Watson. Although I have an instinct for this kind of thing, instinct sometimes fools me. When I first had this idea in my head in Winchester Prison just now, I believed it was unshakable, but the flexible mind always had a weakness, and that was that one could always come up with different alternative answers and lead us astray. But then again – well, we'll just have one try. ”

　　As he walked, he tied one end of the rope firmly to the handle of his pistol. So we arrived at the scene of the accident. With the help of the police officers, Holmes drew very carefully where the body lay. Then he went into the bushes to look for it, and finally found a rather large stone. He tied the stone to the other end of the rope, and then hung the stone from the stone railing and hung above the water. Then he stood at the scene of the accident, with a pistol in his hand, and the rope between the gun and the stone had been straightened.

　　"Start now!" He shouted.

　　As he spoke, he raised his pistol to his head and loosened his grip. The pistol was dragged away by the weight dropped by the stone, and with a snap it hit the stone railing, and then sank over the stone railing and sank into the water. Holmes ran to his knees beside the stone railing. He cheered, which meant he had found what he was expecting.

　　"What could be more conclusive than that?" He shouted, "Come and see, Watson, your pistol solves all the problems!" He pointed to the second chisel, which was exactly the same shape and size as the first.

　　"Tonight we're staying at the inn," he said to the surprised officer, standing up.

　　"You can find a salvage hook, and you can effortlessly pick up my friend's pistol." You can also catch the pistol and rope and stone used by the lady who is intent on revenge, which she uses to cover up her sins and blame the innocent for murder. Tell Mr. Gibson that I will see him tomorrow morning in order to process the release of Miss Dunbar. ”

　　That night, while we smoked our pipes in the village inn, Holmes briefly reviewed what had happened.

　　"Watson," he said, "I'm afraid you won't be able to increase my reputation by recording this Thor Bridge case in your story." My brain is a little sluggish, and I lack the ability to combine imagination and realism, which is the foundation of my art. I admit that the chisel marks on the stone railings were enough clues to solve the problem, but I couldn't find the answer faster.

　　"We have to admit that this unfortunate woman's thinking power is very deep and delicate, so it is not so easy to reveal her plot. I don't think there is a more peculiar example in the cases we've worked on to show how terrible perverted love is. In her eyes, whether Miss Dunbar was her love enemy mentally or physically, it was equally unforgivable. Apparently she blamed the innocent lady for the rough words her husband had used to rebuke her for showing affection. Her first determination was to end her life. The second determination was to find a way to inflict a fate worse on her opponent than to die instantly.

　　"We can clearly see the various steps she has taken, which indicates a fairly fine mind. She cleverly obtained a note from Miss Dunbar, which made it seem as if the latter had chosen the place of the crime. In a hurry to make it easy for people to find the strips, she went too far, and even held the strips in her hands. This alone should have aroused my suspicions even earlier.

　　Then she took one of her husband's pistols—which had a weapons showroom in the house—and kept them for herself, and tucked the same pistol into Miss Dunbar's closet after releasing a bullet that morning, and fired a shot in the woods unnoticed. Then she went to the bridge and devised this extremely ingenious way to eliminate weapons. When Miss Dunbar came to the appointment, she did her best to spew out her hatred for her, and when Dunbar was far away, she completed this terrible task. Now that every link is clear, the chains are complete, the newspaper may ask why they didn't go to the lake at the beginning to salvage, but it is always easy to say nice things afterwards, and there is no way to salvage such a large reed pond unless you know exactly what to salvage and where to salvage. Got it, Watson, we finally helped an extraordinary woman, and also helped a strong man. If they were to unite in the future, it would not seem impossible, and the financial community would find that Mr. Gibson had learned something in that sad classroom that taught human experience. ”