The Hound of the Baskervilles
me. You see, if I am to be squire down there I must dress the
part, and it may be that I have got a little careless in my ways
out West. Among other things I bought these brown boots—gave six
dollars for them—and had one stolen before ever I had them on my
feet.”
“It seems a singularly useless thing to steal,” said Sherlock
Holmes. “I confess that I share Dr. Mortimer’s belief that it
will not be long before the missing boot is found.”
“And, now, gentlemen,” said the baronet with decision, “it seems
to me that I have spoken quite enough about the little that I
know. It is time that you kept your promise and gave me a full
account of what we are all driving at.”
“Your request is a very reasonable one,” Holmes answered. “Dr.
Mortimer, I think you could not do better than to tell your story
as you told it to us.”
Thus encouraged, our scientific friend drew his papers from his
pocket and presented the whole case as he had done upon the
morning before. Sir Henry Baskerville listened with the deepest
attention and with an occasional exclamation of surprise.
“Well, I seem to have come into an inheritance with a vengeance,”
said he when the long narrative was finished. “Of course, I’ve
heard of the hound ever since I was in the nursery. It’s the pet
story of the family, though I never thought of taking it
seriously before. But as to my uncle’s death—well, it all seems
boiling up in my head, and I can’t get it clear yet. You don’t
seem quite to have made up your mind whether it’s a case for a
policeman or a clergyman.”
“Precisely.”
“And now there’s this affair of the letter to me at the hotel. I
suppose that fits into its place.”
“It seems to show that someone knows more than we do about what
goes on upon the moor,” said Dr. Mortimer.
“And also,” said Holmes, “that someone is not ill-disposed
towards you, since they warn you of danger.”
“Or it may be that they wish, for their own purposes, to scare me
away.”
“Well, of course, that is possible also. I am very much indebted
to you, Dr. Mortimer, for introducing me to a problem which
presents several interesting alternatives. But the practical
point which we now have to decide, Sir Henry, is whether it is or
is not advisable for you to go to Baskerville Hall.”
“Why should I not go?”
“There seems to be danger.”
“Do you mean danger from this family fiend or do you mean danger
from human beings?”
“Well, that is what we have to find out.”
“Whichever it is, my answer is fixed. There is no devil in hell,
Mr. Holmes, and there is no man upon earth who can prevent me
from going to the home of my own people, and you may take that to
be my final answer.” His dark brows knitted and his face flushed
to a dusky red as he spoke. It was evident that the fiery temper
of the Baskervilles was not extinct in this their last
representative. “Meanwhile,” said he, “I have hardly had time to
think over all that you have told me. It’s a big thing for a man
to have to understand and to decide at one sitting. I should like
to have a quiet hour by myself to make up my mind. Now, look
here, Mr. Holmes, it’s half-past eleven now and I am going back
right away to my hotel. Suppose you and your friend, Dr. Watson,
come round and lunch with us at two. I’ll be able to tell you
more clearly then how this thing strikes me.”
“Is that convenient to you, Watson?”
“Perfectly.”
“Then you may expect us. Shall I have a cab called?”
“I’d prefer to walk, for this affair has flurried me rather.”
“I’ll join you in a walk, with pleasure,” said his companion.
“Then we meet again at two o’clock. Au revoir, and good-morning!”
We heard the steps of our visitors descend the stair and the bang
of the front door. In an instant Holmes had changed from the
languid dreamer to the man of action.
“Your hat and boots, Watson, quick! Not a moment to lose!” He
rushed into his room in his dressing-gown and was back again in a
few seconds in a frock-coat. We hurried together down the stairs
and into the street. Dr. Mortimer and Baskerville were still
visible about two hundred yards ahead of us in the direction of
Oxford Street.
“Shall I run on and stop them?”
“Not for the world, my dear Watson. I am perfectly satisfied with
your company if you will tolerate mine. Our friends are wise, for
it is certainly a very fine morning for a walk.”
He quickened his pace until we had decreased the distance which
divided us by about half. Then, still keeping a hundred yards
behind, we followed into Oxford Street and so down Regent Street.
Once our friends stopped and stared into a shop window, upon
which Holmes did the same. An instant afterwards he gave a little
cry of satisfaction, and, following the direction of his eager
eyes, I saw that a hansom cab with a man inside which had halted
on the other side of the street was now proceeding slowly onward
again.
“There’s our man, Watson! Come along! We’ll have a good look at
him, if we can do no more.”
At that instant I was aware of a bushy black beard and a pair of
piercing eyes turned upon us through the side window of the cab.
Instantly the trapdoor at the top flew up, something was screamed
to the driver, and the cab flew madly off down Regent Street.
Holmes looked eagerly round for another, but no empty one was in
sight. Then he dashed in wild pursuit amid the stream of the
traffic, but the start was too great, and already the cab was out
of sight.
“There now!” said Holmes bitterly as he emerged panting and white
with vexation from the tide of vehicles. “Was ever such bad luck
and such bad management, too? Watson, Watson, if you are an
honest man you will record this also and set it against my
successes!”
“Who was the man?”
“I have not an idea.”
“A spy?”
“Well, it was evident from what we have heard that Baskerville
has been very closely shadowed by someone since he has been in
town. How else could it be known so quickly that it was the
Northumberland Hotel which he had chosen? If they had followed
him the first day I argued that they would follow him also the
second. You may have observed that I twice strolled over to the
window while Dr. Mortimer was reading his legend.”
“Yes, I remember.”
“I was looking out for loiterers in the street, but I saw none.
We are dealing with a clever man, Watson. This matter cuts very
deep, and though I have not finally made up my mind whether it is
a benevolent or a malevolent agency which is in touch with us, I
am conscious always of power and design. When our friends left I
at once followed them in the hopes of marking down their
invisible attendant. So wily was he that he had not trusted
himself upon foot, but he had availed himself of a cab so that he
could loiter behind or dash past them and so escape their notice.
His method had the additional advantage that if they were to take
a cab he was all ready to follow them. It has, however, one
obvious disadvantage.”
“It puts him in the power of the cabman.”
“Exactly.”
“What a pity we did not get the number!”
“My dear Watson, clumsy as I have been, you surely do not
seriously imagine that I neglected to get the number? No. 2704 is
our man. But that is no use to us for the moment.”
“I fail to see how you could have done more.”
“On observing the cab I should have instantly turned and walked
in the other direction. I should then at my leisure have hired a
second cab and followed the first at a respectful distance, or,
better still, have driven to the Northumberland Hotel and waited
there. When our unknown had followed Baskerville home we should
have had the opportunity of playing his own game upon himself and
seeing where he made for. As it is, by an indiscreet eagerness,
which was taken advantage of with extraordinary quickness and
energy by our opponent, we have betrayed ourselves and lost our
man.”
We had been sauntering slowly down Regent Street during this
conversation, and Dr. Mortimer, with his companion, had long
vanished in front of us.
“There is no object in our following them,” said Holmes. “The
shadow has departed and will not return. We must see what further
cards we have in our hands and play them with decision. Could you
swear to that man’s face within the cab?”
“I could swear only to the beard.”
“And so could I—from which I gather that in all probability it
was a false one. A clever man upon so delicate an errand has no
use for a beard save to conceal his features. Come in here,
Watson!”
He turned into one of the district messenger offices, where he
was warmly greeted by the manager.
“Ah, Wilson, I see you have not forgotten the little case in
which I had the good fortune to help you?”
“No, sir, indeed I have not. You saved my good name, and perhaps
my life.”
“My dear fellow, you exaggerate. I have some recollection,
Wilson, that you had among your boys a lad named Cartwright, who
showed some ability during the investigation.”
“Yes, sir, he is still with us.”
“Could you ring him up?—thank you! And I should be glad to have
change of this five-pound note.”
A lad of fourteen, with a bright, keen face, had obeyed the
summons of the manager. He stood now gazing with great reverence
at the famous detective.
“Let me have the Hotel Directory,” said Holmes. “Thank you! Now,
Cartwright, there are the names of twenty-three hotels here, all
in the immediate neighbourhood of Charing Cross. Do you see?”
“Yes, sir.”
“You will visit each of these in turn.”
“Yes, sir.”
“You will begin in each case by giving the outside porter one
shilling. Here are twenty-three shillings.”
“Yes, sir.”
“You will tell him that you want to see the waste-paper of
yesterday. You will say that an important telegram has miscarried
and that you are looking for it. You understand?”
“Yes, sir.”
“But what you are really looking for is the centre page of the
_Times_ with some holes cut in it with scissors. Here is a copy
of the _Times_. It is this page. You could easily recognize it,
could you not?”
“Yes, sir.”
“In each case the outside porter will send for the hall porter,
to whom also you will give a shilling. Here are twenty-three
shillings. You will then learn in possibly twenty cases out of
the twenty-three that the waste of the day before has been burned
or removed. In the three other cases you will be shown a heap of
paper and you will look for this page of the _Times_ among it.
The odds are enormously against your finding it. There are ten
shillings over in case of emergencies. Let me have a report by
wire at Baker Street before evening. And now, Watson, it only