to a rat, and the incident of the vanishing cloth. No, sir, I shall approach

this case from the point of view that what this young man says is true, and we

shall see whither that hypothesis will lead us. And now here is my pocket

Petrarch, and not another word shall I say of this case until we are on the

scene of action. We lunch at Swindon, and I see that we shall be there in

twenty minutes.”


It was nearly four o’clock when we at last, after passing through the

beautiful Stroud Valley, and over the broad gleaming Severn, found ourselves at

the pretty little country-town of Ross. A lean, ferret-like man, furtive and

sly-looking, was waiting for us upon the platform. In spite of the light brown

dustcoat and leather-leggings which he wore in deference to his rustic

surroundings, I had no difficulty in recognising Lestrade, of Scotland Yard.

With him we drove to the Hereford Arms where a room had already been engaged

for us.


“I have ordered a carriage,” said Lestrade as we sat over a cup of

tea. “I knew your energetic nature, and that you would not be happy until

you had been on the scene of the crime.”


“It was very nice and complimentary of you,” Holmes answered.

“It is entirely a question of barometric pressure.”


Lestrade looked startled. “I do not quite follow,” he said.


“How is the glass? Twenty-nine, I see. No wind, and not a cloud in the

sky. I have a caseful of cigarettes here which need smoking, and the sofa is

very much superior to the usual country hotel abomination. I do not think that

it is probable that I shall use the carriage to-night.”


Lestrade laughed indulgently. “You have, no doubt, already formed your

conclusions from the newspapers,” he said. “The case is as plain as

a pikestaff, and the more one goes into it the plainer it becomes. Still, of

course, one can’t refuse a lady, and such a very positive one, too. She

has heard of you, and would have your opinion, though I repeatedly told her