Greenfield Evening Republican, Greenfield, Hancock County, 6 February 1895 — Page 4

By A. CON AN DOYLE.

"It is simple enough as you explain it," I said, smiling. "You remind me *of Edgar Allan Poo's Dupin. I had no idea that such individuals did exist outside of stories.

Sherlock Holmes rose and lit his pipe. "No doubt you think that you are complimenting me in comparing me to Dupiu," he observed. "Now, in my opinion, Dupin was a very inferior fellow. That trick of his of breaking in on his friends' thoughts with an apropos remark after a quarter of an hour's silence is really very showy and superficial. He had some analytical genius, no doubt, but he was by no means such a phenomenon as Poe appeared to imagine. "Have you read Gaboriau's works?" I asked. "Does Lecoq come up to your idea of a detective?"

Sherlock Holmes sniffed sardonically. "Lecoq was a miserable bungler, "he said in an angry voice. "Ho had only one thing to recommend him, and that •was his energy. That book made me positively ill. The question was how to identify an unknown prisoner. I could have done it in 24 hours. Lecoq took six jmonths or so. It might be made a textbook for detectives to teach them what to avoid."

I felt rather indignant at having two 'characters whom I had admired treated in this cavalier style. I walked over to the window and stood looking out Into the busy street. "This fellow may be very clever," I said to myself, "but he is certainly very conceited. "There are no crimes and no criminals in these days," he said querulously. "What is the use of having brains in our profession? I know well that I have it in me to make my namo famous. No man lives or has ever lived who has brought the same amount of study and of natural talent to the detection of crime which 1 have done. And what is the result? There is no crime to detect, or at most some bungling villainy, with a motive so transparent that even a

Scotland Yard official can see through it"

I was still annoyed at his bumptious stylo of conversation. I thought it best to change the topic. "I wonder what that fellow is looking for?" I asked, pointing to a stalwart, plainly dressed individual who was walking slowly down the other side of the street, looking anxiously at the numbers. He had a largo bluo envelope in his hand and was evidently the bearer of a message. "You mean the retired sergeant of marines," said Sherlock Holmes. "Brag and bounce!" thought I to myself. "Ho knows that I cannot verify his 2urw

TiTo thought had hardly passed through my mind when the man whom we wero watching caught sight of the number on our door and ran rapidly across thu roadway. hoard a loud knock, a deep voice below and heavy Steps ascending the stairs. "For Mr. Sherlock Holmes, he said, stepping into the room and handing my friend the letter

Here was an opportunity of taking the conceit out of him. He little thought •of this when lie made that random shot. "May I ask, my lad," I said blandly, "what your trade may be?" "Commis.siounaire,sir, he said gruffly. "Uniform away for repairs. "And you were?" 1 asked, with a slightly malicious glance at my companion. "A sergeant, sir. Royal Marine Light infantry, sir. No answer? Right, sir."

He clicked his heels together, raised his hand in a sal'Ue and was gone.

CHAPTER III.

I confess that I was considerably startled by this fresh proof of the practical nature of my companion's theories. JVly respect for his powers of analysis increased wondroasly There still remained some lurking suspicion in my mind, however, that the whole thing was a prearranged episode, intended to dazzle me, though what earthly object ho could have in taking me in was past my comprehension. When I looked at him, he Jhad finished reading the note, and his eyes had assumed tho vacant, lackluster expression which showed mental ab straction. "How in tho world did yon deduce that?" 1 asked. "Deduce what?" said he petulantly. "Why, that ho was a retired sergeant of marines." "1 have no time for trifles," he replied brusquely then, with a smile: "Excuse my rudeness. You broke the thread of my thoughts, but perhaps it is as welL So you actually wero not able to see that that man was a sergeant of marines?" "No, indeed." "It was easier to know it than to explain why I know it. If you were asked to provo that two and two make four, yon might find some difficulty, and yot yon are quite sure of tho fact. Even across tho street I could see a great blue anchor tattooed on tho back of tho fellow's hand. That smacked of the sea. He had a military carriage, however, and regulation side whiskers. There we have the marine. Ho was a man with some amount of self importance and a certain air of command. You must have observed the way in which ho hold his head and swung his cane, a steady, respectable, middle aged man, too, on tho lace of him, all facts which led mo to believe that he had been a sergeant. "Wonderful!" I ejaculated. "Commonplace," said Holmes, though 1 thought from his expression that he was pleased at my evident surprise and admiration. "I said just now that there were no criminals. It appears that I am •wrong. Look at this!" He threw mo «ver the note which the commissionnaire lad brought. "Why," 1 cried as I cast my eye ovor jit. "this is terrible!,"

"It does seem to bo a little out of the conumon, he remarked calmly. "Would you mind reading it to mo aloud?"

Kitl.oOK

I was amazed at the calm way in which he rippled on. "Surely there is not a moment to be lost," 1 cried. "Shall 1 go and order you a cab?" "I am not sure about whether I shall go. 1 am the most incurably lazy devil that ever stood in shoe leather—that is, whin the (it is on me, for I can be spry enough at times. "Why, it is just such a chance as you have been longing for. "My dear fellow, what does it matter to me? Supposing I unravel the whole matter, you may be sure that Gregson, Lestrade & Co. will pocket all the credit. That comes of being an unofficial personage. "But he begs you to help him. "Yes. He knows that lam his superior and acknowledges it to me, but he would cut his tongue out before he would own it to any third person. However, wo may as well go and have a look. 1 shall work it out on my own hook. I may have a laugh at them, if 1 have nothing else. Come on!"

He hustled on his overcoat and bustled about in a way that showed that an energetic fit had superseded the apathetic one "Get your hat, he said. I "You wish me to come?" "Yes, if you have nothing better to do. A minute later we were both in a hansom, driving furiously for the Brixton road.

It was a foggy, cloudy morning, and a dun colored veil hung o^er the housetops, looking like tho reflection of the mud colored streets beneath. My companion was in the best of spirits and prattled away about Cremona fiddles and the difference between a Stradivsrius and an Amati. As for myself, I was silent, for the dull weather and the melancholy business upon which we were engaged depressed my spirits. "You don't seem to give much thought to the matter in hand," I said at last, interrupting Holmes' musical disquisition. "No data yet, he answered. "It is a capital mistako to theorize before you have all the evidence. It biases the judgment. "You will have your data soon, I remarked, pointing with my finger. "This is the Brixton road, and that is tho house, if Iain not very much mistaken. "So it is. Stop, driver, stop!" We were still a hundred yards or so from it, but he insisted upon our alighting, and we finished our journey upon foot.

No. a Lauriston Gardens wore an ill omened and minatory look. It was ono of four which stood back some little way from the street, two being occupied and two empty. The latter looked out with three tiers of vacant, melancholy windows, which were blank and dreary, save that here and then1 a "To let" card had developed like a cataract upon tho bleared panes. A small garden, sprinkled over with a scattered eruption of sickly plants, separated each of these houses from the street and was traversed by a narrow pathway, yellowish in color and consisting apparently of a mixture of clay and gravel.

The whole placo was very sloppy from tho rain which had fallen through the night. Tho garden was bounded by a three foot brick wall, with a fringe of wood rails upon the top, and against this wall was leaning a stalwart police constable, surrounded by a small knot of loafers, who craned their necks and strained their eyes in the vain hope of catching some glimpse of tho proceedings within

I had imagined that Sherlock Holmes would at once have hurried into the house and plunged into a study of the mystery. Nothing appeared to be farther from his intention. With an air of nonchalance, which, under the circumstances, seemed to me to border upon affectation, ho lounged up and down tho pavement and gazed vacantly at the ground, tho sky, the opposite houses and the line of railinrs. Having finished his scrutiny, ho proceeded slowly down tho path, or rather down the fringe of grass which Hanked the path, keeping his eyes riveted upon the ground. Twice he stopped, and once I saw him smile and heard him utter an exclamation of satisfaction. There were many marks of footsteps upon tho wet, clayey soil, but since the police had been coining and going over it I was unable to see how my companion could hope to learn anything from it. Still I had had such extraordinary evidenco of tho quickness of his perceptivo faculties that I had no doubt that he could see a great deal which was hidden from me.

At the door of tho house wo wore met by a tall, whito faced, flaxen haired man, with a notebook in his hand, who rushed forward and wrung my companion's hand with effusion. "It is indeed kind of you to come," he said. "I have had everything left untouched." "Except that!" my friend answeredt

liil

SftSSfaKS9

BSSSSi

Tins is tho letter which I read to him: MY DKAH JM

HOI.MKS-TIHTC has

been a hud business during tin: night at ii Lrm riston Gardens, olt the Brixton road. Our man on the heat saw a light there about 2 tho morning, and as thu house was an empty one suspected something amiss. He found the door open and the front- room, which is bare of furniture, discovered the body of a gentleman, well dressed and having cards 111 his pocket bearing the name of "Enoch .1 Drebber, Cleveland. Ohio. U. S. A." There had been 110 robbery. nor i» there any evidence as to how tho man met ins death There are marks of blood the n.H'tn, but then: is no wound upon his person We are at a loss as to how he came into the empty house. Indeed the whole affair is a puzzler If you can come round to the house any time before I"-', you will find me there. I have left everything 111 statu (|'.io until I hear from you It you are unable to come, 1 shall give you fuller details and would esteem it a great kindness if you would favor me with your opinion Yours faithfully.

TOHIAS GKEGSON.

"Gregson is the smartest of the Scotland Yarders," my friend remarked. "He and Lestrade are the pick of a bad lot. They are both quick and energetic, but conventional, shockingly so. They have their knives into one another too. They are as jealous as a pair of professional beauties. There will be some fun over this case if they aro both put upon the scent.

pointing "to the pathway. "If a herd of buffaloes had passed along, there could not be a greater mess. No doubt, however, you had drawn your own conclu-' sions, Gregson, before you permitted this." I "I have had so much to do inside the house," the detective said evasively. "My colleague, Mr. Lestrade, is hero. I had relied upon him to look after this.

Holmes glanced at me and raised his eyebrows sardonically. "With two such men as yourself and Lestrade upon the ground there will not be much for a third party to find out," he said.

Gregson rubbed his hands in a self satisfied way. "I think we have done all that can be done," he answered. "It's a queer case, though, and I knew your taste for such things. "Yon did not come here in a cab?" asked Sherlock Holmes. "No, sir." "Nor Lestrade?" "No, sir. "Then let us go and look at the room. With which inconsequent remark he strode on into the house, followed by Gregson, whose features expressed his astonishment.

A short passage, bare planked and dusty, led to the kitchen and offices. Two doors opeirod out of it to the left and to the right. One of these had obviously been closed for many weeks. The other belonged to the dining room, which was the apartment in which the mysterious affair had occurred. Holmes walked in, and I followed him with that subdued feeling at my heart which the presence of death inspires.

It was a large, square room, looking all the larger for the absence of all furniture. A vulgar, flaring paper adorned the walls, but it was blotched in places wrth mildew, and here and there great strips had become detached and hung down, exposing the yellow plaster be neatli. Opposite the door was a showy fireplace, surmounted by a mantelpiece of imitation white marble. On one corner of this was stuck tho stump of a red wax candle. The solitary window was so dirty that the light was hazy and uncertain, giving a dull gray tinge to everything, which was intensified by the thick layer of dust which coated the whole apartment.

All these details 1 observed afterward. At present my attention was centered upon the single grim, motionless figure which lay stretched upon the boards, with vacant, sightless eyes staring up at tho discolored ceiling. It was that of a man about 43 or 44 years of age, middlo sized, broad shouldered, with crisp, curling black hair and a short, stubbly beard. He was dressed in a heavy broadcloth frock coat and waistcoat, with light colored trousers and immaculate collar and cuffs. A top hat, well brushed and trim, was placed upon the floor beside him. His hands were clinched and his arms thrown abroad, While his lower limbs were interlocked as though his death struggle had been a grievous one. On his rigid face there stood an expression of horror and, as it seemed to me, of hatred such as I have never seen upon human features. This malignant and terrible contortion, combined with the low forehead, blunt nose and prognathous jaw, gave the dead man a singularly siniious and apelike appearance, which was increased by his writhing, unnatural posture. I have seen death in many forms, but never has it appeared to mo in a more fearsome aspect than in that dark, grimy apartment which looked out upon one of tho main arteries of suburban London.

Lestrade, lean and ferretlike as over,

Sherlock Holmes approached tho body, and kneeling down examined it intently. "You are sure that there is 110 wound?'' he asked, pointing to numerous gouts and splashes of blood which lay all around. Ifff "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 tho circumstances attendant on the death of Van Jansen in Utrecht in tho year '34. Do you remember the case, Gregson?" "No, sir." "Read it up, you really should. There is nothing new under the sun. It has all been dono before.

As he spoke his nimble fingers were flying here, there and everywhere, feeling, pressing, unbuttoning, examining, while his eyes wore the same faraway expression which I have already remarked upon. So swiftly was the examination made that one would hardly have guessed tho minuteness with which it was conducted. Finally he sniffed the dead man's lips and then glanced at the soles of his patent leather boots. "Ho has not been moved at all?" ho asked. "No more than was necessary for the purpose of our examination. "You can tako him to the mortuary now," he said. "TJiero is nothing moro to be learned.

Gregson had a stretcher and four men at hand. At, his call they entered the room, and tho stranger was lifted and carrird out As they raised him, a ring tinkled down and rolled across the floor. Lestrade grabbed it and stared at it with mystilied oyos. "There's been a woman here!" ho cried. "It's a woman's wedding ring."

Ho hold it out as he spoke upon the palm of his hand. We all gathered around him and gazed 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 Gregson. "Heaven knows they wero complicated enough before!" "You're suro it doesn't simplify tliem?" obs'-rved Holmes... "There's

«®i

was standing by the doorway and greet- t'st instead of tho darkest portion of the ed my companion and myself. "This case will make a stir, sir," lie remarked. "It beats anything I liavo seen, and I am 110 chicken." "There is 110 clew?" said Gregson. "None at all," chimed in Lestrade.

Mis

nothing to bo learned by staring at if. What did you find in his pockcts?" "Wo have it all here, said Gregson, pointing to a litter of objects upon one of tho bottom steps of tho stairs. "A gold watch, No. 1)7,1(58, by Barraud of London gold Albert chain, very heavy and solid gold ring, with Masonic device gold pin. bulldog's head, *wit-h rubies as eyes Russian leather curdcase, with cards of Enoch J. Drebber of Cleveland, corresponding with the E. J. D. upon the linen no purse, but loose money to the extent of £7 lb's. pocket edition of Boccaccio's 'Decameron,' with namo of Joseph Stangerson upon the fly leaf two letters, one addressed to E. J. Drebber and one to Joseph Stangerson. "At what address?" "American Exchange, Strand, to be left till called for. They are both from the Guion Steamship company and refer to the sailing of their boats from Liverpool. 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. "I have had advertisements sent to all the newspapers, and one of my men has gone to the American Exchange, but he has not returned yet. "Have you sent to Cleveland?" "We telegraphed this morning." "How did you word your inquiries?" "We simply detailed the circumstances and said that we should bo glad of any information which could help us.' "You did not ask for particulars on any point which appeared to you to be crucial?" 72.sv "I asked about Stangerson. "Nothing else? Is there no circumstance on which this whole case appears to hinge? Will you not telegraph again?" "I have said all I have to say," said Gregson in an offended voice.

Sherlock Holmes chuckled to himself and appeared to bo about to inako some remark, when Lestrade, who had been in tho front room while we were holding this conversation in tho hall, reappeared upon the scene, rubbing his hands in a pompous and self satisfied manner. "Mr. Gregson," he said, "I 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, tho 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 triumphantly.

I have remarked that the paper had fallen away in parts. In this particular corner of the room a largo 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, "Iiache. "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 tho darkest corner of the room, and no one thought of looking there. Tho murderer has written it with his or her own blood. See this smear whore 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 mantelpiece. It was lit at the time, and if it was lit this corner would lie tho bright-

wall." "And what dors it mean, now that you have found it?" asked Gregson in a deprecatory voice. "Mean? Why, it means that tho writer was going to put the female namo Rachel, but was disturbed before ho or she had time to finish. You mark my words, when this case comes to bo cleared up you will find that a woman named Rachel has something to do with it It's all very well for you to laugh, Mr. Sherlock Holmes. You may bo very smart and clever, but tho old hound is the best when all_is said and dono_"

(To be continued.)\

iwn Pictures From Lilr.

Great God, when I look round 1110 anil .survey Tho shoeless shivering mites that crouch and cower In open doorways, suffering by the hour The bitterest terrors of this wintry day, My heart swells full of anger, and I pray With ceaseless, longing yearning for the power To raise the standard of revolt and slay The sir.s that work such ill. The lowliest flower That nestles in the lap of Mother Earth Is tended with a kindlier, gentler earo Than these rank offshoots of a luckless birth. Dread victims, from their cradle of despairNurslings of crime whom rigorous laws condemn. But leave untouched tho ills that bear on them.

But turn ye from such sights to that blest j) lace Where nestles all that's holiest. Turn to where Thy young eyed du mbs wait- thee on the stai-. Counting each flying moment till thy face Burst in upon them and thy fond embrace Rewards their loving vigils. Gaunt despair j.. Finds here no habitation. Love keeps pace I With jocund mirth and gh'.'.ness, making fair

The little worid around thee. And when sleep Infolds thy darlings in his sheltering arms, Haply thy grateful heart asks him to keep Their pure young souls from sin's ai'uring I -'./ charms,

And whilst thy dear ones press their warm,

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Some homeless waif upon thy doorstep crouches. —Liverpool Mercury.

(«lory.

Who can relate

JTow m-uiy homes are desolate, The widow's lonely grief express, The sorrow of the fatherless, Or know what bitter tears are shed By aged mothers of the dead? Oh, turn we from the saddening story! This is what tho world calls glory I —W. J. Benners, Jr

Who Shall Arbitrate? Now, who shall arbitral:*? Ten mm love what I hate,

ftliun what I follow, slight what I receive Ten who in ears and eyes Match me, we all surmise, They, this thing, and I, that—whom shall my ... BOUI believe?

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THE BEST NEWSPAPER

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JOURNAL NEWSPAPER CO. I INDIANAPOLIS, IND. The GREENFIELD REPUBLICAN is Agent for the Daily, Suuday and Weekly Journal. Call at our office to subscribe.

-AN It-

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February 5, '95.

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Office with D. W. Ft. King, Street, Greenfield, Iud.

Practice limited to diseases of the

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HOMEOPATHIC

PHYSICIAN AND SURGEON.

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1855 T. C. 1895.

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I-oiiri-IHIIIKM

"And the Leaves of the Tree Were for rim M»:-ilin'4 ot the Nations."—Rev.

MAN 0 WA,

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lady or Ket'tl lotnen. eoiitit rv also accepted !'.\|ierteiieo not necessary. In fact prefer a Itonhuior at small salary at first, any, to lux In Irom $ t,o $(')() per mouth, chance* lor promotion "jjjood." Must deposit In l.ank cash, ahout $100. No loan asked Investment required. It. is mlarled ami permanent position (strictly oltlce work) Our enterprise is strongly endorsed by bankers. Address P. O. llox -IJW, Nashville, Tenn. Mention this I»«»l'«'r. w-Jan-Feb