Rensselaer Republican, Volume 27, Number 7, Rensselaer, Jasper County, 11 October 1894 — A STUDY IN SCARLET. [ARTICLE]

A STUDY IN SCARLET.

BY A. CONAN DOYLE.

* PART I. (Seine a reprint from the reminiscences of John H. Watson, M. D., late of the Army Medina Department]

CHAPTER lll—Continued.

"Look at that!” he said triumph•ntly. I bare remarked that the paper had fallen away in parts roThts particular corner of the room a large piece had peelecj off, foaving a yellow square of coarse plastering. Across this bare space there was scrawled in blood-red letters a single word: RACHE 1 "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 in 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 on? I will tell you. See the candle on the mantel-piece. It was i lighted at* that time, and if.it, was ! lighted this corner would be the brightest instead of the darkest portion of the wall.” » "And what does it mean, now that you have found it?” asked Gregson, In a depreciatory voice. "Mean? Why, it means that the writer was going to put the female name of Rachel, but was disturbed before he or she had time to finish. You mark my words, before this Case comes to be 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 be very smart and clever, but the old hound is the best when all is said and done.” "I really beg your pardon!” said my companion, who had ruffled the little man’s temper by bursting into an explosion of laughter. "You certainly have the credit of being the first of us to find this out, and, as you say, it bears every mark of having been written fey the other Flrticipant in last nigwt’s mystery. have not had time to examine this room yet, but with your permission ( shall do so now.” As he spoke he whipped a tape measure and a large, round magnifying glass from his pocket. With these two implements he trotted ooislessly about the room, sometimes stopping, occasionally kneeling, and once lying flat upon his lace. 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, md little cries suggestive of enBouragement and hope. As I watched him I was irresistibly reminded of a pure blooded, well trained fox hound Is he dashes backward and forward through the covert, Whining in eagerness until it comes across the lost scent. For twenty minutes or more he continued his researches, measuring with the most exact care the distance between the inarks which were entirely invisible tome. Mid occasionally applying his tape to the walls in an equally incomprehensible manner. In one place he gathered veFy carefully a little pile »f gray dust from the floor and pill it away in an envelope. Finally he - examined with his glass the word apon the wall, going over every letter of it with the most minute exactness. This done, he appeared to be satisfied, f<jr he replaced his tape tnd his glass in his picket. li They say that genius is ah 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 Lestradehad watched the maneuvers of t heir amateur companion with considerable curiosity and some contempt. They evidently failed tn appreciate the fact, which I had begun to realize, that Sherlock 1 Holme’s smallest actions were all di - rented toward some definite and practical end. ‘‘What do you think of it, sir?” they both asked. I _ would be robbtirg you of the credit of the case if 1 were to presume to help you,” remarked my “friend. “You are doing so well now that it would be a pity for any one to interfere.” There was a world of sarcasm in his voice as he spoke. “If I will let me know how your investigations go,” he continued, “I | ♦hall be happy to give you any help’ 1 can. In the meantime I should like > to speak to the constable who found ' the body. Can you give me his name ♦nd address?” Lestrade glanced at his note book. "“John Hance,” he said. “He’s of' l •'fluty now. You will find'ffun at'"4*Lj Audley Court, Kennington ParkGate.” Holmes took a note of the, 'add ress. “Come along, doctor," be said, *‘we shall go and look him up. 11l tell you one thing which maylfelp vou in the case," he continued," turning to the two detectives. There has lieen murder done, and the murderer was a man. He was more than six Jeet high, was in the prime of life, iad small feet,for his height, wore coarse, square toed boots, and •moked a trichinoply cigar, lie | came here with his victim in a four-' •wheeled cab, which was drawn by a torse with three old shoes, and one new one on his off fore leg. In all probability the murderer hud a

florid face, and the finger nails of his right hand. were remarkably long. . These are xmly-a fe w ins tractions, 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, curtly, and strode off. "One other thing, Lestrade," he added, turning round at the door: " ‘Rache’ is the German for ‘revenge,’ so don’t lose your time hunting for Miss Rachel.” With which Parthian shot he walked away, leaving the two rivals-open-mouthed behind him.

CHAPTER IV.

WHAT JOHN HANCE HAD TO TELL. It was one o’clock when we left No. 3Lauriston Gardeas. Sherlock i Holmes led me to the nearest tele- ! graph office, whence he dispatched a long telegram. He'then hailed a cab, and ordered the driver to take us to the address given us by Lestrade. . . "There is nothing like first-hand evidence,” 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 1 observed on arriving there was that a cab bad made two ruts with its wheels close to the curb. Now, up to Fast nignt, we have had no rain for a week, so that those wheels, which left such a deep impression, must have been there d|aring the night. There were the marks of a horse’s hoofs, too,the outline of one of which was more clearly cut than that of the other three, showing that that 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 I; "but how about the other man’s height?” "Why, the height of a man in nine cases out of ten, can be told from the length of his stride. It is a simple calculation enough, though there is no use of my boring you with figures. Lhad this fellow’s stride, both on the clay outside and the dust within. Then I had a way of checking my calculation. When a man writes on i wall his instinct leads him to write abouj the 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 man 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. Patent-leather boots La l 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 Trichinopoly,” I suggested. “The writ ing on the wall was done with a man’s finger 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 triinmed. I gathered up some scattered ash from the floor. It was dark in color and flaky—such an ash as is only made by a Trlchinopoly. 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 of cigar or of tobacco. It is just in such details the skilled detective differs from the i Gregson and Lestrade type.” I “And the florid face?” I asked. “Ah. that was a more daring shot, ; though I have no doubt I was right, i You must not ask me that at the ; present state of affairs." I passed my hand over my brow. “My head is in a whirl,” I said; “the more one thinks of it ihe more mysterious it grows. How came [th>»3 two men —if there were two men—into an empty house? What I ha| become of the cabman who drove them? How could one man compel another to take poison? Where did the bhiod corne from? What was the objectbTThe murderer, since robbery had np part in it? How camo the woman’s ring there? Above all, why should the second man write up the German word Rachc before decamping? I confess that I can not see any possible way of reconciling all these fadts.” My companion smiled approv- ! ingiy. . “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 and secret societies. It was not done by a German. The A, 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 nos> going to tell vou 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 ordinary individual after all.” “I.shall never do that,” I answered; "Ybu have brought detection as near an exact science as it ever will be brought itfthis 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’H-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 ip 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 length of 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 this is mere surmise and conjecture. We have a good working basis, however, on which to start. We must hurry up, for I want to go to Halle’s concert, to hear Norman Naruda, this afternoon.”

This conversation had occured while our cab had been threading its way through a long succession of dingy streets and dreary by-ways. In thedingiest and dreariest of them our driver suddenly came to a stand. ‘‘That’s Audley Court in there," he said, pointing to a narrow slit ife the line of a dead-colored brick. “You’ll find me here when you come back.” Audley Court was not an aHr*ict= ive locality. The narrow passage led us into a narrow quadrangle paved with flags and lined with sordid dwellings. We picked our way among groups of dirty children, and through lines of discolored linen until we came to No. 46, the door of which was decorated with a small slip of brass on which the name Rance 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 little irritable a!t being disturbed in his slumbers. “I made my report at the office,” he said. Holmes took a half-sovereign from his pocket andplayed with it pen-* sivelv. “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 me hear it all in your own wav, as it occurred.” Rance sat down on the horse-hair, sofa and knitted his brows, as though determined not to omit anything in his narrative. “I’ll tell it ye from the beginning,” he said. “My time is from ten at night t<> 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 alittleafter—l thought I would take a look around 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, thinkiir' between ourselves how uncommon handy a four of gin hot would be, when suddenly a glint of 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 a light in tjie window, and I suspected as something was wrong. When I got to the door —” “You stopped, and then walked back to the garden gat-*.” my com- : panion interrupted. “What did you do that for?” Rance gave a violent jump, and stared at Shorlpck Holmes, with the utmost amazement upon bisfeatures. “Why, that’s true, sir,” he said; “though how you come to know it,Heaven only knows! Ye see, when I got up to the door, t was so still and so lonesome that 1 thought I’d be none th * worse for some one with me. I ain’t afeard of anything on HJs side o’ the grave; but I thought’ihut maybe it was him that dhnl 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 Murcher’s lantern, bu! there wasn’t no sign of him nor ol any one else.” "There was no one in the street?’ "Not a livin' soul, sir, no 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 flickerin’ on the mantel-piece —a red wax one —and by its light ] saw—” "Yes, I know all that you saw. You walked around the room several times, aud you knelt down by the body, and then you walked through and tried tho kitchen door, and then--”

John Rance sprang to his feet with a frightened face and suspicion in his eves.” "Where'was you hid to see all that?” he cried. "It seems to me that you kno w a deal more than vov 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?”Rance resumed his seat, 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?” The constable’s features broadened into a grin. ‘Tve*seen many a drunk chap in my time,” he said, "but never any one so cryin’ drunk as that cove. He was at the gate when I came out-, a leanin’ up agin the railin’s and asingin’ at the pitch of his lungs about Columbine’s New-fangled Banner, or some such stuff. He couldn’t stand, far less help.” 0 “What sort of a man was he?” asked Sherlock Holmes.

v John Rance 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 sac dress—didn’t you notice them?” Holmes broke in impatiently. H"I should think I did notice them, seeing that I had to prop him up me and Marcher between us. He was a long chap, with a red face, the ’lower part muffled ro ind—” "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 wa<(er 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 must have left it behind," muttered my companion. "YotT didn’t happen to see or hear a cab after that?” "No.”

(to be continue d.)

Captain Carter’s Monkey. Harper's Young People. Captain Garter, who lived in Washington, D. C., when on land, had a great fancy for fine fowls, and among his collection prized a fine old king gobbler. On his last cruise he brought home a mischievous young monkey, which gave him so much trouble it was a good deal like “4'n elephant on his hands.” One day, hearing a terrible squaking in the hennery, the Captain found Jocko with king gobbler under his arm, while he was deliberately pulling out the poor bird's last tail feather. The Captain rescued the turkey, and punished the monkey severely, who knew very well why he was chastised. The next day, again hearing a commotion among the feathered t ribe, he went to the scene of action, and there sat Jocko with the much persecuted gobbler between his knees, while he was trying to put the feathers back. His intentions of repairing the mischief done were good, but the turkey did not appreciate them,