“We shall endeavour to clear up these points for you. And, first, one or

two questions, Mr. Wilson. This assistant of yours who first called your

attention to the advertisement—how long had he been with you?”


“About a month then.”


“How did he come?”


“In answer to an advertisement.”


“Was he the only applicant?”


“No, I had a dozen.”


“Why did you pick him?”


“Because he was handy and would come cheap.”


“At half wages, in fact.”


“Yes.”


“What is he like, this Vincent Spaulding?”


“Small, stout-built, very quick in his ways, no hair on his face, though

he’s not short of thirty. Has a white splash of acid upon his

forehead.”


Holmes sat up in his chair in considerable excitement. “I thought as

much,” said he. “Have you ever observed that his ears are pierced

for earrings?”


“Yes, sir. He told me that a gipsy had done it for him when he was a

lad.”


“Hum!” said Holmes, sinking back in deep thought. “He is

still with you?”


“Oh, yes, sir; I have only just left him.”


“And has your business been attended to in your absence?”


“Nothing to complain of, sir. There’s never very much to do of a

morning.”


“That will do, Mr. Wilson. I shall be happy to give you an opinion upon

the subject in the course of a day or two. To-day is Saturday, and I hope that

by Monday we may come to a conclusion.”


“Well, Watson,” said Holmes when our visitor had left us,

“what do you make of it all?”


“I make nothing of it,” I answered frankly. “It is a most

mysterious business.”


“As a rule,” said Holmes, “the more bizarre a thing is the

less mysterious it proves to be. It is your commonplace, featureless crimes

which are really puzzling, just as a commonplace face is the most difficult to

identify. But I must be prompt over this matter.”


“What are you going to do, then?” I asked.


“To smoke,” he answered. “It is quite a three pipe problem,