Crawfordsville Weekly Journal, Crawfordsville, Montgomery County, 26 January 1894 — Page 8

A.STBDY

•"I

IN SCARLET

By A. OONAN DOILB. CHAPTER III, CONTINUED.

body, and, kneeling- down, examined it intently. "You are sure that there is no wound?" he asked, pointing- to numerous pouts and splashes of blood which lay all round. "Positive!" cried both detectives. "Then, of course, this blood belongs to a second individual—presumably the murderer, if murder has been committed. It reminds me of *he circumstances attendant on the death of Van JiUisen, in Utrecht, in the year 1834. Bo you remember the case, Gregson?" "No, sir." "Head it up—you really should. There is nothing new under the sun. It has all been done before."

As he spoke, his nimble fingers were flying1 here, there and everywhere, feeling, pressing, unbuttoning, examining, while his eyes wore the same far-away expression which I have already remarked upon. So swiftly was Khe examination made that one would hardly have guessed the minuteness with which it was conducted. Finally, he sniffed the dead man's lips, and then stanced at the soles of his patentleather boots. "He has not been moved at all?" he asked. "No more.than was necessary for the purpose of our examination." "You can take him to the mortuary now," he said. "There is nothing more tb%e learned."

Gregson had a stretcher and four men at hand. At his call they entered the .room, and the stranger was lifted and carried out. As they raised him,

EMNRLOCK HOT.MES APPROACHED THIS BODY.

a, ring tinkled down qnd rolled across the .floor. Lestrade grabbed it up and stared at it with mystified eyes. "There's been a woman here," he cried. "It's a woman's wedding-ring."

He held it out, as he spoke, upon the palm of his hand. We all gathered round him and s-azed at it. There could be no doubt that that circle of plain gold had once adorned the finger of .a bride. "This .complicates matters," said Ore/ json. "lleaven knows, they were complicated enough before!" "You're sure it doesn't simplify them?" observed llolmes. "There's nothing to be learned by staring" at it. What did you find ju his pockets?" "We have it all here," said Gregson, pointing to .a litter of objects upon one of lie bottom steps of the stairs. "A gold watch, No. 07,10!), by Earraud, of London. Gold Albert chain, very heavy and solid. Gold ring, with rnaBonie device. Gold pin—bulldog's head, with rubies as eyes. Russian leather card-case, with cards of Enoch

Drebber, of Cleveland, corresponding with the E. J. D. upon the linen. No-purse, but loose money to the extent of .seven pounds thirteen. Pocket edition of Boccaccio's 'Decameron,'with name of Joseph Stangerson upon the fly-leaf. Two letters—one addressed to ID, J. Drabber aud one to Joseph Stangerson.1' "At what address?" "American Exchange. Strand—to be left till called for. They are both from the Quion Steamship company, and refer tq the sailing of their boats from jLiverpool. It is clear that this unfortunate man was about to return to New York." "Have you made any inquiries as to this man Stangerson?" "I did it at once, sir," said Gregson.

liaye had advertisements sent to all the newspapers, and one of my men has gone to the American Exchange, but lie has not returned yet." "Hn-ve you sent to Cleveland?" "We telegraphed this morning." "How did you word your inquiries?" "We simply detailed the circumstances, .and said that we should be glad of aavy information whic&j could help us." "'You did not ask for particulars on any point which appeared to you (botbe crucial?" "I asked about Stangerson." "Nothing sise? Is there no cireutastance on which this whole ease appears to hing«? \Yill you not telegraph again?" "I have said alii I have to say," said Greghon, in an offended voice.

Sherlock Holmes .chuckled to himself, and appeared to be about to make some remark, when Lestrade, who had been in the front room while we were holding this conversation iii the hall, reappeared upon the scene, rubbing his hands in a pompous and self-satis-fied manner. "Mr. Gregson." he said.

have just

made a discovery of the highest importance, and one which would have been overlooked had I not made a careful examination of the walls."

The little man's eyes sparkled -as he spoke, and he was evidently in a state of suppressed exultation at having scored a point against his colleague. "Come here," he said, bustling back into the room, the atmosphere of which felt cleaner since the removal of its ghastly inmate. "Now stand there!"

He struck a match on his boot and held it up against the wall. "Look at that!" he said, triumphant-

1 have remarked that the paper had fallen away in these parts. In this particular corner of the room a large piece had peeled off, leaving a yellow square of coarse plastering. Across this bare space there was scrawled in blood-red letters a single word: "RACHE."

"What do you think of that?" cried the detective, with the air of a showman exhibiting his show. "This was overlooked because it was in the darkest corner of the room, and no one thought of looking there. The murderer has written it with his or her •own blood. See this smear where it has trickled down the wall! That disposes of the idea of suicide, anyhow. Why was that corner chosen to write it on? I will tell you. See that candle on the mantel piece. It was lit at the time, and if it was lit this •corner would be the brightest instead of the darkest portion of the wall." "And what does it mean, now tlaat yon have found it?" asked Gregson, in a deprecatory voice. "Mean? Why, it means that the writer was going to put the female name Rachel, but was disturbed before he or she had time to finish. You mark my words, when this case comes to be cleared up you will find that, a -woman named llacliel has something to do with it. It's all Tery well for you to laugh, Mr. Sherlock Holmes. You may be very smart and clever, but the old honnd is best, when all is said and done." "I really beg ycniT pardon!" said my •companion, who had ruffled the little man's temper by bursting into an explosion of laughter. "You certainly have the credit olf being the first of us to find this out, and, as you say, it bears every mark of having been written by the other participant in last night's mystery. I have not had time to examine this room yet, but with your permission I shall do so now.""

As he spoke he whipped a tape measure and a large, round magnifying glass from his pocket. With these two instruments he trotted noiselessly about the room, sometimes stopping, occasionally kneeling, and once lying flat on his face. So engrossed was he with his occupation that he appeared to have forgotten our presence, for he chattered away to himself under his breath the whole time, keeping up a running fire of exclamations, groans, whistles, and little cries suggestive of encouragement and hope. As I watched him I was irresistibly reminded of a pure-blooded, well-trained fox-hound as it dashes backward and forward through the covert, whining in its eagerness, until it comes across the lost sce_ntj_ For_twenty minutes

more he continued his researches, measuring with the most exact care the distance between marks whieh were entirely invisible to me, and occasionally .applying his tape to the walls in an equally incomprehensible manner. In one place he gathered very carefully a little pileof gray dust from the floor and packed it away in an •envelope. Finally he examined with his glass the words upon the wall, going over •every letter of it with the most minute exactness. This done, he appeared to be satisfied, for he replaced the tape and glass in his pocket. "They say that genius is an infinite •capacity for taking pains," he remarked •with a smile. "It's a very bad definition, but it does apply to detective work."

Gregson and Lestrade had watched the maneuvers of their amateur companion with considerable curiosity and some contempt. They evidently failed to appreciate the fact, whieh I had begun to realize, that Sherlock Holmes' smailest actions were all directed toward some definite and practical end. "What do you think of it?" they both asked. "It would be robbing you of the credit of the case if I was to presume to help you," remarked my friend. "You are doing so well now that it would be a pity for anyone to interfere." There was a world of sarcasm in his voice, as he spoke. "If you will let me know how your investigations go," he continued, "I shall be happy to give you any help I can. In the meantime, I should like to speak to the constable who found the body. Can you give me his name and address?"

Lestrade glanced at his note-book. "John Ranee," he said. "lie is off duty now. You will find him at 46 Audley court, Kennington park gate."

Holmes took a note of the address. "Come along, doctor," he said "we shall go and look him up. I'll tell you one thing which may help you in the case," he continued, turning to the two detectives. "There has been murder done, and the murderer was a man. He was more than six feet high, was in the prime of life, had small feet for his height, wore coarse, squaretoed boots and smoked a Trichinopoly cigar. He came here with his victim in a four-wheeled cab, which was drawn by a horse with three old shoes and one new one on his off fore-leg. In all probability the murderer had a florid face, and the finger-nails of his right hand were remarkably long. These are only a few indications, but they may assist you."

Lestrade and Gregson glanced at each other with an incredulous smile. "If this man was murdered, how was it done?" asked the former. "Poison," said Sherlock Holmes, curtIv, and strode off. "One other thing, Lestrade," he added, turning round at the door 'Raclie' is the German for 'revenge so don't lose your time looking for Miss Rachel."

With which Parthian shot Ticwalked away, leaving the two. rivals openmouthed behind him.

CHAPTER IV.

WHAT JOIIN RANCE HAD TO TELL It was one o'clock- when we left No. 3 Lauriston gardens. Sherlock- Holmes led me to the nearest telegraph office, whence he dispatched along telegram. He then hailed a cab. and ordered the driver to take us to the address given us by Lestrade. .._ "J hero is nothing like first-hand evi

dence," he remarked "as a matter of fact, my mind is entirely made up upon the case, but still we may as well learn all that is to be learned." "You amaze me, Holmes," said I. "Surely you are not as sure as you pretend to be of all those particulars which you gave." "There's no room for a mistake," he answered. "The very first thing which I observed on arriving there was that a cab had made two ruts with its wheels close to the curb. Now, up to last night, we have had no rain for a week, so that those wheels, which left such a deep impression, must have been there during the night. There were the marks of the horse's hoofs, too, the outline of one of which was far more clearly cut than that of the other three, showing that th»t was a new shoe. Since the cab was there after the rain began, and was not there at any time during the morning —I have Gregson's word for that—it follows that it must have been there during the night, and, therefore, that it brought those two individuals to the house." "That seems simple enough," said 1 "but how about the other man's •height?" "Why, the height of a man, in nine cases out ©f ten, can be told from the length of his stride. It is a simple calculation enough though there is no •use my boring you with figures. I had this fellow's stride, both on the clay outside and on the dust within. Then I had a way of checking my calculation. When a man writes on a wall, his instinct leads him to write about the level of his own eyes." Now, that writing was just over six feet from the ground. It was child's play." "And his age?" I asked. "Well, if a mam can stride four and .a half feet without the smallest effort, he can't be quite in the sere and yellow That was the breadth of a puddle on the garden walk which he had evidently walked across. Patentleather boots had gone round and Square-toes had hopped over. There is no mystery about it at all. I am simply applying to ordinary life a few •of those precepts of observation and deduction which I advocated in that article. Is there anything else that puzzles you?" "The finger-nails and the Trichinop•oly," I suggested. "The writing on the wall was done with a man's forefinger dipped in blood. My glass .allowed me to observe that the plaster was slightly scratched in doing it, which would not have been the case if the man's nail had been trimmed. I gathered up some scattered ash from the floor. It was dark in eolor and flaky—such an ash as is only made by a Trichinopoly. I have made a special study of cigar ashes— in fact, I have written a monograph upon the subject. I flatter myself that I can distinguish at a glance the ash of any known brand either of cigar or of tobacco. It is just in such details that the skilled detective differs from the Gregson and Lestrade type." "And the florid face?" I asked. "Ah, that was a more daring shot, though I have no doubt that I was right. You must not ask me that at the present state

the affair."

passed my nand over my tirow. "My head is in a whirl," I remarked "the more one thinks of it the more mysterious it grows. How came these two men—if there were two men—into an empty house? What has become of the cabman who drove them? How could one man compel another to take poison? Where did the blood come from? What was the object of the murderer, since robbery had no part in it? How came the woman's ring there? Above all, why should the second man write up the German word "rache" before decamping? I confess that 1 cannot see any possible way of reconciling all these facts."

My companion smiled approvingly. "You sum up the difficulties of the situation succinctly and well," he said. "There is much that is still obscure, though I have quite made up my mind on the main facts. As to poor Lestrade's discovery it was simply a blind intended to put the police upon a wrong track, by suggesting socialism aud secret societies. It was not done by a German. The A, if you noticed, was printed somewhat after the German fashion. Now a real German invariably prints in the Latin character, so that we may safely say that this was not written by one, but by a clumsy imitator, who overdid his part. It was simply a ruse to divert inquiry into a wrong channel. I'm not going to tell you much more of the case, doctor. You know a conjurer gets no credit when once he has explained his trick, and if I show you too much of my method of working, you will come to the conclusion that I am a very ord.inary individual after all." "I shall never do that," 1 answered "you have brought detection as near an exact science as it ever will be brought in this world."

My companion flushed up with pleasure at my words and the earnest way in which I uttered them. I had already observed that he was as sensitive to flattery on the score of his art as any girl could be of her beauty. "I'll tell you one other thing," he said. "Patent-leathers and Squaretoes came in the same cab, and they walked down the pathway together as friendly as possible—arm-in-arm. in all probability. When they got inside they walked up and down the room— or rather, Patent-leathers stood still while Square-toes walked up and down. I could read all that in the dust and I could read that, as he walked, he grew more and more excited. That is shown by the increased length of his strides. He was talking all the while, and working himself up, no doubt, into a fury. Then the tragedy occurred. I've told you all I know myself, now, for the rest is mere surmise and conjecture. We have a good working basis, however, on whieh to start. We must hurry up, for I want to go to Halle's concert, to hear Noriqan Neruda, this afternoon."

This conversation had occurred while our cab had been threading its wav through a long succession of dingy

streets and dreary by-ways. In the dingiest and dreariest of them our driver suddenly came to a stand. "That's Audley court in there," he said, pointing to a narrow slit in the line of dead-colored brick. "You'll find me here when you come back."

Audley :court was not an attractive locality. The narrow passage led us into a quadrangle paved with flags and lined by sordid dwellings. We picked our way among groups of dirty children and through lines of discolored linen until we came to No. 40. the door of which was decorated with a small slip of brass, on which the name Ranee was engraved. On inquiry we found that the constable was in bed, and we were shown into a little front parlor, to await his coming.

He appeared presently, looking a lit*3e irritable at being disturbed in his slumbers. "I made my report at the office," lie said.

Holmes took a half-sovereign from bis pocket, and played with it pensively. "We thought that we should like to hear it all from your own lips," he said. "I shall be most happy to tell you anything I can," the constable answered, with his eyes upon the little golden disk. "Just let us hear it all in your own way, as it occurred."

Ranee sat down on the horse-hair sofa and knitted his brows, as though determined not to.omit anything inhis narrative. "I'll tell it ye from the beginning," he said. "My time is from ten at night to six in the morning. At eleven there was a fight at the White Hart but, bar that, all was quiet enough on the beat. At one o'clock it began to rain, and I met Harry Murcher—him who has the Holland Grove beat—and we stood together at the corner of Henrietta street a-talkin'. Presently maybe about two, or a little after—I thought I would take a look round, and see that all was right down the Brixton road. It was precious dirty and lonely. Not a soul did I meet all the way down, though a cab or two went past me. I was a-strollin' down, thinkin' between ourselves how uncommon handy a four of gin hot would be, when suddenly a glint of a light •caught my eye in the window of that same house. Now, I knew that them two houses in Lauriston gardens was empty on account of him that owns them, who won't have the drains seed to, though the very last tenant what lived in one of them died o' typhoid fever. I was knocked all in a heap, therefore, at seeing alight in the window, and I suspected as something was wrong. When I got to the door—" "You stopped, and then walked back to the garden gate," my companion interrupted. "What did you do that for?"

Ranee gave a violent jump, and stared at Sherlock Holmes with the utmost amazement upon his features. "Why, that's true, sir," he said "though how you came to know it, Heaven only knows! Ye see, when I got up to the door, it was so still and so lonesome that I thought I'd be none the worse for some one with me. I ain't afeared of anything on this side of the grave but I thought that maybe it was him that died o' the typhoid inspecting the drains what killed him. The thought gave me a kind o' turn, and I walked back to the gate to see if I could see Marcher's lantern, but there wasn't no sign of him nor of anyone else." "There was no one in the street?" "Not a livin' soul, sir, nor as much, as a dog. Then I pulled myself together and went back and pushed the door open. All was quiet inside, so I went into the room where the light was a-burnin'. There was a candle fiickerin' on the mantle-piece—a red wax one— and by its light I saw—" "Yes, I know all that you saw. You walked round the room several times, and you knelt dqwn by the body, and then you walked through and tried the kitchen door, and then—"

John Ranee sprang to his feet with a frightened face and suspicion in his eyes. "Where was you hid to see all that?" he cried. "It seems to me that you knows a deal more than you should."

Holmes laughed, and threw his card across the table to the constable. "Don't get arresting me for the murder," he said. "I am one of the hounds and not the wolf Mr. Gregson or Mr. Lestrade will answer for that. Go on, though. What did you do next?"

Ranee resumed his scat, without, however, losing his mystified expression. "I went back to the gate and sounded my whistle. That brought Murcher and two more to the spot." "Was the street empty then?" "Well, it was, as far as anybody that could be of any good goes." "What do you mean?"

I he constable features broadened into a grin. "I've seen many a drunk chap in my time," he said, "but never anyone so cryin' drunk as that cove. He was at the gate -when I came out, a-leanin' up ag'n the railin's and a-singin' at the pitch of his lungs about Columbine's new-fangled banner, or some such stuff. He couldn't stand, far less help." "What sort of a man was he?" asked Sherlock Holmes.

John Ranee appeared to be somewhat irritated at this digression. "He was an uncommon drunk sort o' man," he said. "He'd ha' found hisself in the station if we hadn't been so took up." "His face—his dress—didn't you notice them?" Holmes broke in, impatiently. "I should think I did notice them, seeing that I had to prop him up—me and Murcher between us. He was a long chap, with a red face, the lower part inuflled round—" "That will do." cried Holmes. "What became of him?" "We'd enough to do without lookin' after him.'' the policeman said, in an aggrieved voice. "I'll wager he found his way home all right." "How was he dressed?" "A brown overcoat." "Had he a whip in his hand?" "A whip—no." "He n.iust have left it behind." muttered my companion. "You didn't happcn_to_,' ee or hear a cab after that?"

"No." "There's a half sovereign for you," my companion said, standing up and taking his hat. "I am afraid, Ranee, that you will never rise in the force. That head of yours should be for use as well as ornament. You might have gained your sergeant's stripes last night. The man whom you held in your hands is the man who holds the clew of this mystery, and whom we are seeking. There is no use of arguing about it now I teli you that it is so. Come alone, doctor."

We started off for the cab together, leaving our informant incredulous, but obviously uncomfortable. "The blundering fool!" Holmes said, bitterly, as we drove back to our lodgings. "Just to think of his having such an incomparable bit of good luck and not taking advantage of it." "I am rather in the dark still. It is true that the description of this man taUies with your idea of the second party in this mystery. But why should he come back to the house after leaving it? This is not the way of criminals." 'The ring, man, the ring that was whut he came back for. If we have no other way of catching him we can always bait our line with the ring. I shall have him, doctor, I'll lay you two to one that I haye him. I must thank you for it all. I might not have gone but for you, and so have missed the finest study I ever came across a study in scarlet, eh? Why shouldn't we use a little art jargon? There's the scarlet thread of murder running through the colorless skein of life, and our duty is to unravel it, and isolate it, and expose every inch of it. And now for lunch, and then for Norman Neruda. Her attack and her bowing are splendid. What's that little thing of Chopin's she plays so magnificently: Tra-la-la-lira-lira-lay."

Leaning back in the cab, this amateur blood-hourd caroled away like a lark, while I meditated upon the manysidedness of the human mind.

CHAPTER V.

OUR ADVERTISEMENT BRINGS A VISITOR, Our morning's exertions had been too much for my weak health, and I was tired out in the afternoon. After Holmes' departure for the concert, I lay down upon the sofa and endeavored to get a couple of hours' sleep. It was a useless attempt. My mind had been too much excited by all that had occurred, and the strangest fancies and surmises crowded into it. Every time that I closed my eyes I saw before me the distorted, baboon-like countenance of the murdered man. So sinister was the impression which that face had produced upon me that I found it difficult to feel anything but gratitude for him who had removed its owner from the world. If ever human features bespoke vice of the most malignant type, they were certainly those of Enoch J. Drebber, of Cleveland. Still I recognized that justice must be done, and that the depravity of the victim was no condonement in the eyes of the law.

The more I thought of it the mure extraordinary did my companion's hypothesis, that the man had been poisoned, appear. I remember how he had sniffed his lips, and had no doubt that he had detected something wh'.cli had given rise to the idea. Then, again, if not poison, what had caused the man's death, since there was neither wound nor marks of strangulation? But, on the other hand, whose blood was ,tliat which lay so thickly upon the floor? There were no signs of a struggle, nor had the victim any Weapon with which he might have wounded an antagonist. As long as all these questions were unsolved, I felt that sleep would be no easy matter, either for Holmes or myself. His quiet, self-confident manner convinced me that he had already formed a theory which explained all the facts, though what it was I could not for an instant conjecture.

He was very late in returning—so late that I knew that the concert could not have detained him all that time. Dinner was on the table before he appeared. "It was magnificent," he said, as he took his seat. "Do you remember what Darwin says about music? He claims that the power of producing and appreciating it existed among the human race long before the power of speech was arrived at. Perhaps that is why we are so subtly influenced by it. There are vague memories in our souls of those misty centuries when the world was in its childhood." "That's rather a broad idea," I remarked. "One's ideas must be as broad as nature if they are to interpret nature," he answered. "What's the matter? You're not looking quite yourself. This Brixton road affair has upset you." "To tell the truth, it has," I said. "I ought to be more case hardened after my Afghan experiences. I saw my own comrades hacked to pieces at Maiwand without losing my nerve." "I can understand. There is a mystery about this which stimulates the imagination where there is no imagination there is no horror. Have you seen the evening paper?" "No." "It gives a fairly good account of the affair. It does not mention the fact that when the man was raised up a woman's wedding ring fell upon the floor. It is just as well it does not." "Why?" "Look at this advertisement," he answered. "I had one sent to every paper this morning immediately after the affair."

He threw the paper across to me, and 1 glanced at the place indicated. It was the first announcement in the "Found" column. "In Brixton road this morning," it ran, "a plain gold wedding ring, found in the roadway between the White Hart tavern and Holland grove. Apply Dr. Watson, 221n Baker street, between eight and nine this evening." "Excuse my using your name," he said. "If I used my own (someone of these dunderheads would recognize it and want to meddle in the affair.".

"That is all,"

answered. "But sup

posing anyone applies, I have no ring." "Oh, yes, you have," said he, handing me one. "This will do very well. It is almost a fac-simile." "And %vho do you expect will answer this advertisement?" "Why, the man in the brown coat— our florid friend with the square toes. If he does not come himself he will send an accomplice." "Would he not consider it as too dangerous?" "Not at all. If my view of the case is correct, and I have every reason to believe that it is, this man would rather risk ajiy thing than lose the ring. According to my notion lie dropped it while stooping over Drebber's body, and did not miss it at the time. After leaving the house he discovered his loss, and hurried back, but found the police already in possession,? owing to his own folly in leaving the candle burning. He had to pretend to be drunk in order to allay the suspicions which might have been aroused by his appearance at the gate. Now put yourself in that man's place. On thinking the matter over, it must have occurred to him that it was possible that he had lost the ring in the road after leaving the house. What would he do then? He would eagerly look out for the evening papers, in the hope of seeing it among the articles found. His eye, of course, would light upon this. Ho would be overjoyed. Why should he fear a trap? There would be no reason in his eyes why the finding of the ring should be connected with the murder. He would come. Ha will come. You shall see him within an hour." "And then?" I asked. "Oh, you can leave me to deal with him, then. Have you any arms?" "I have my old service revolver and a few cartridges." "You had better clean it and load it. He will be a desperate man, and, though I shall take him unawares, it is as well to be ready for anything."

I went to my bedroom and followed his advice. When I returned with the pistol the table had been cleared and Holmes was engaged in his favorita occupation of scraping upon his violin. "The plot thickens," he said, as I entered. "I have just had an answer to my American telegram. My •i»w of the case is correct." "And that is?" I asked, eagerly. "My fiddle would be better for new strings," he remarked. "Put your pistol in your pocket. When the fellow comes speak to him in an ordinary way. Leave the rest to me. Don't frighten him by looking at him too hard." "It is eight o'clock now,"

said,

glancing at my watch. "Yes. He will probably be here in a few minutes. Open the door slightly. That will do. Now put the key on the inside. Thank you! This is a queer book I picked up at a stall yesterday— 'De Jure inter Gentes'—published in.

VERY OLD AND WRINKLED WOMAN HOI1IU.ED INTO THE APARTMENT.

Latin at Liege, in the Lowlands, in 1042. Charles' head was still firm on his shoulders when this little brownbacked volume was struck off." "Who is the printer?" "Philippe de Croy, whoever he may have been. On the fly-leaf, in very faded ink, is written, 'Exlibris Guliolmi Whyte.' I wondered who William Whyte was. Some pragmatical seventeenth century lawyer, I suppose. His writing has a legal twist about it. Here comes our man,

clear but rather harsh voice.

think." As he spoke there was a sharp ring1 at the bell. Sherlock Holmes rose softly, and moved his chair in the direction of the door. We heard the servant pass along the hall, and the sharp click of the latch as she opened it. "Does Dr. Watson live here?" asked

could not hear the servant's reply, but the door closed, and some one began

ascend the stairs. The footfall was an uncertain and shuffling one.

look of

surprise passed over the face of my companion as he listened to it.

came

slowly along the passage, and there was a feeble tap at the door. "Come in!"

cried.

At my summons, instead of the

of violence whom we expected,

man

very

old and wrinkled woman hobbled into the apartment. She appeared to be dazzled by the sudden blaze of light, and, after dropping

countenance.

courtesy, she

stood blinking at us with her bleared eyes and fumbling in her pocket with nervous, shaky fingers.

glanced

my companion, and his face had assumed such a disconsolate expression that it was all

could do to keep my

on in

Slay Enjoin Fnyuipnt of Bonds. WASHINGTON, Jan. 24.— Senator Allen (pop., Neb.) says his duties as a senator will not permit him to act as chief counsel for the Knights oi Labor in their effort to enjoin the issuance of bonds, but that he has advised the selection of Judge. Cole, of Iowa, as principal attorney'' and will assist him. He has advised against au effort to enjoin the issuance of the bonds and suggests, instead that an injunction be asked for against their payment when issued.