death, I am ever your loving,


“‘MARY.’


“What could she mean by that note, Mr. Holmes? Do you think it points to

suicide?”


“No, no, nothing of the kind. It is perhaps the best possible solution. I

trust, Mr. Holder, that you are nearing the end of your troubles.”


“Ha! You say so! You have heard something, Mr. Holmes; you have learned

something! Where are the gems?”


“You would not think £ 1000 apiece an excessive sum for

them?”


“I would pay ten.”


“That would be unnecessary. Three thousand will cover the matter. And

there is a little reward, I fancy. Have you your cheque-book? Here is a pen.

Better make it out for £ 4000.”


With a dazed face the banker made out the required check. Holmes walked over to

his desk, took out a little triangular piece of gold with three gems in it, and

threw it down upon the table.


With a shriek of joy our client clutched it up.


“You have it!” he gasped. “I am saved! I am saved!”


The reaction of joy was as passionate as his grief had been, and he hugged his

recovered gems to his bosom.


“There is one other thing you owe, Mr. Holder,” said Sherlock

Holmes rather sternly.


“Owe!” He caught up a pen. “Name the sum, and I will pay

it.”


“No, the debt is not to me. You owe a very humble apology to that noble

lad, your son, who has carried himself in this matter as I should be proud to

see my own son do, should I ever chance to have one.”


“Then it was not Arthur who took them?”


“I told you yesterday, and I repeat to-day, that it was not.”


“You are sure of it! Then let us hurry to him at once to let him know

that the truth is known.”


“He knows it already. When I had cleared it all up I had an interview

with him, and finding that he would not tell me the story, I told it to him, on

which he had to confess that I was right and to add the very few details which

were not yet quite clear to me. Your news of this morning, however, may open

his lips.”