The Darlington news. (Darlington, S.C.) 1875-1909, April 26, 1894, Image 3
® Y A. - OOXV^lUV XXXVXaJB.
CHAPTER IV—Continued.
I passed my hand over my brow.
••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
aa 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" be
fore decamping? I confess that I can
not see any possible way of reconciling
aU these facta”
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 hare quite made up my mind
on the main facta As to poor Lee-
trade'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, if you noticed, was
printed somewhat after the German
fashion. Now a real German invaria
bly 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,
•nd 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;
"you have brought detection as near
an exact science as it ever will be
brought in this world."
My companion flushed up with pleas
ure at my words and the earnest way
In which I uttered them. I had al
ready 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 Square-
toes 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 ex
cited. 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 which
to start. We must hurry up, for I
want to go to Halle’s concert, to hear
Norman Neruda, this afternoon.”
This conversation had occurred while
our cab had been threading its way
through a long succession of dingy
streets and dreary by-ways. In the
dingiest and dreariest of them our
driver suddenly came to a staitd.
"That’s Audley court in there,” he
said, pointing to a narrow slit in t he
Une 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 chil
dren 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
Bance 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
tle irritable at being disturbed in Ills
slumbers. "I made my report at the
office,” he said.
Holmes took a half-sovereign from
his pocket, and played with it pensive iy.
“We thought that we should like to
hear it aU from your own lips,” he said.
“I shall be most happy to tell you
anything I can,” the constable an
swered, with his eyes upon the little
polden 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 in his
narrative.
•T’U 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 to
gether 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 Brix-
ton 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,
thlnkln’ between ourselves bow un
common 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 bouses 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 aU in a heap,
therefore, at seeing a light in the win?
dow, 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 in
terrupted. “What did you do that for?”
Bance gave a violent jump, and
stared at Sherlock Holmes with the ut
most amazement upon his features,
“Why, that’s trite, 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
•o lonesome that I thought I’d be none
worse for tone one with »o. 1
am t ateareo ot anytmng on tms sme
of the grave; but I thought that maybe
it was him that died o’ the typhoid in
specting the drains what killed him.
The thought gave me a kind o’ Pirn,
and I walked back to the gate to see if
I could see Murcher’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 a
a dog. Then I pulled myself together
and went hack 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 mantle-piece—a red wax one—
and by its light I saw—”
“Yes, 1 know all that you saw. You
walked round the room several times,
and you knelt down by the body, and
then you walked through and tried the
kitchen door, and then—"
John Kance 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 mur
der,” 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 seat, without,
however, losing his mystified expres
sion. “1 went back to the gate and
sounded my whistle. That brought
Murcher and two more to the spot.”
“Was the street empty then?”
“WeU, it was, as far as anybody that
could be of any good goea”
“What do you mean?”
The constable's 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 ban
ner, 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 some
what irritated at this digression. “He
was an uncommon drunk sort o’ man,”
he said. “He’d ha’ found hlsself in the
station if we hadn’t been so took up."
“His face—his dress—didn’t you no
tice them?” Holmes broke In, impa
tiently.
“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 muffled 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 must have left it behind,” mut
tered my companion. “You didn't hap
pen to see or hear a cab after that?"
“No.”
"There's a half sovereign for you,”
my companion said, standing np and
taking his hat. “I am afraid, Uance,
that you will never rise in the force.
That head of yours should i>e 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 argu
ing about it now; I tell you that it is
so. Come along, 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 lodg
ings. “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
tallies with your idea of the second
party in this mystery. Hut 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
what 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 have 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 ex
pose every inch of It. And now for
lunch, and then for Norman Neruda.
Her attack and her bowing are splen
did. What's that little thing of Chopin's
she plays so magnificently: Tra-la-la-
lira-lira-lay.”
Leaning back in the cab, this ama
teur blood-hound caroled away like a
lark, while I meditated upon the many-
sidedness pf the human mind.
CHAPTKK V.
ora ADTERTiszMirr bbisos a visrtoa
Our morning's exertions bad been
too mnch 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 endeav
ored to get a couple of hours' sleep. It
was a useless sttempt. 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 J saw be»
fore me the distorted, baboon-like
countenance of the murdered man. Bo
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 bespoks vioe of tbs most
malignant type, they were certainly
those of Enoch J. Drebber, of Cleve
land. Still I recognized that justice
must be done, and that the depravUr
of the victim was no conaonement in
the eyes of the taw.
The more I thought of it the more
extraordinary did my comparion'a
hypothesis, that the man had been
poisoned, appear. I remember now uc
had sniffed his Ups, and had no doubt
that he had detected something which
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 strangu
lation? But, on the other hand, whose
blood was that 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 con
vinced 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 hare detained him all that time.
Dinner was on the table before he ap
peared.
“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 hu
man race long before the power of
speech was arrived at. I’erhaps 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 re
marked.
“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
yon.”
“To tell the truth, it has,” I said.
“1 ought to be more case hardened
after my Afghan experiences. 1 saw
my own comrades hacked to pieces at
Maiwand without losing my nerve.”
“I can understand. There is a mys
tery about this which stimulates the
imagination; where there is no imag
ination 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 an
swered. “I had one sent to every pa
per this morning immediately after the
affair.”
He threw the paper across to me,
and I glanced at the place indicated.
It was the first announcement in the
“Found” column. “In Brixton road
I GI.AXCED AT TUB PLAN INDICATED.
this morning,” it ran, “a plain gold
wedding ring, found in the roadway
between the White Hart tavern and
Holland grove. Apply Dr. Watson,
221b Baker street, between eight and
nine this evening.”
“Excuse my using yonr name,” he
said. “If I used my own some one of
these dunderheads would reqognize It
and want to meddle in the affair.”
“That is all,” I answered. “But sup
posing anyone applies, I have no ring.”
“Oh, yes, you have,” said he, hand
ing me one. “This will do very well.
It is almost a fac-simile.”
“And who 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 caae
is correct, and I have every reason to
believe that it is, this man wonld
rather risk anything than lose the
ring. According to my notion he
dropped it while stooping over Dreb-
ber’s body, and did not miss it at the
time. After leaving the house he dis
covered 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 suspi
cions 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 lookout
for the evening papers, in the hope of
seeing it among the articles found.
His eye, of course, wonld light upon
this. He wonld be overjoyed. Why
should he fear a trap? There wonld
be no reason in his eyes why the find
ing of the ring should be connected
with the murder. He would come. He
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?”
“| have my ohj service revolver ytq<j
a few cartridges,”
“Yon 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 hia favorite
occupation of scraping upon his violin.
“The plot thickens,” he said, aa I
f ntered- “f Rave just had an answer
to ray American telegram. My view
of the case is correct-”
“And that Is?” I asked, eagerly.
“My fiddle would be better for new
strings.” h: ‘remarked. “Pat yonr pis
tol in yonr pocket When the fellow
gomes 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,” I said,
Ktaaaiag at mi watch. .
“Yea He will probably be nere in a
few minutes. Open the door i lightly.
That will do. Now put the key on the
inside. Thank you! This is a queer
book 1 picked up at a stall yesterday—
’De Jure inter Gentes’—published in
A VEST OLD AND WRINKLED WOMAN
HOBBLED INTO THE APARTMENT.
Latin at Liege, in the Lowlands, In
1642. Charles’ head was still firm on
his shoulders when this little brown-
backed 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 Guli-
olmi Whyte.’ I wondered who Wil
liam Whyte was. Some pragmatical
seventeenth century lawyer, I sup
pose. His writing has a legal twist
about it. Here comes our man, I
think.”
As he spoke there was a sharp ring
at the -bell. Sherlock Holmes rose
softly, and moved his chair in the di
rection 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
a clear but rather harsh voice. We
could not hear the servant's reply, but
the door closed, and someone began to
ascend the stairs. The footfall was ai.
uncertain and shuffling one. A look of
surprise passed over the face of my
companion as he listened to it. I cam.
alowly along the passage, and there
was a feeble tap at the door.
“Come in!” I cried.
At my summons, instead of the man
of violence whom we expected, a very
old and wrinkled woman hobbled into
the apartment. She appeared to be
dazzled by the sudden blaze of light,
and, after dropping a courtesy, she
stood blinking at us with her bleared
eyes and fumbling in her pocket with
nervous, shaky fingers. I glanced at
my companion, and his face had as
sumed such a disconsolate expression
that it was all I could do to keep my
Countenance.
The old crone drew out an evening
paper, and pointed at our advertise
ment. “It’s this as has brought me,
good gentlemen,” she said, dropping
another courtesy; “a gold wedding-
ring in the Brixton road. It belongs
to my girl SaUy, as was married only
this time twelvemonth, which her
husband is steward aboard a union
boat, and what he’d say if he come
’ome and found her without her ring
is more than I can think, he being
short enough at the best o’ times, but
more especially when we has the
drink. If it please you, she went to
the circus last night along with—”
“Is that her ring?” I asked.
“The Lord be thanked!” cried the
old woman. “Sally will be a glad
woman this night. That’s the ring.”
“And whst may your address he?”
I Inquired, taking up a pencil.
“18 Duncan street, Iloundsditch. A
weary way from here.”
“The Brixton road does not lie be
tween any circus and Houndsdl tch,”
said Sherlock Holmes, sharply.
The old woman faced round and
looked keenly at him from her little
red-rimmed eyes. “The gentleman
asked me for my address,” she said.
“Sally lives in lodgings at 8 Mayfield
Place, Peckham.”
“And your name is—’’
“My name is Sawyer—hers is Dennis,
which Tom Dennis married her—and
a smart, clean lad, too, as long as he’s
at sea, and no steward in the company
HER PURSUER DOGGED HER SOME LITTLE
DISTANCE BEHIND.
more thought of; but when on shore,
what with the women and what with
liquor shops—”
“Here is your ring, Mrs. Sawyer,” 1
interrupted, in obedience to a sign
from my companion; “it clearly be
longs to your daughter, and I am glad
to restore It to the rightful owner.”
With many mumbled blessings and
protestations of gratitude the old
crone packed it away in her pocket,
and shuffled off down the stairs. Sher
lock Holmes sprang to his feet the mo
ment she was gone and rushed into his
room. He returned in a few seconds
enveloped in an nlster and a cravat
“I’ll follow her,” he said, hurriedly,
“she must be an accomplice, and will
lead me to him. Wait up for me.” Tht
hall door had hurriedly slammed be
hind our visitor before Holmes had de
scended the stair. Looking through
the window I could see her walking
feebly along the other side, while hei
pursuer dogged her some little dis
tance behind. “Either his whole the
ory Is incorrect,” I thought to myselfi
“or else he will be led q(w to the heart
of the mys^j-j," There was no need
(or him to ask me to wait up for him,
for 1 felt that sleep was impossible
until I heard the result Qf hU adven
ture.
It was close upon nine when he set
out. I had no Idea how long he might
be, but 1 sat stolidly puffing at my pipe
and skipping over the pages of Henri
Murger's “Vie de Boheme.” Ten
o’clock passed, and I heard the foot
steps of the maids as they pattered off
to bed. Eleven and the more stately
tread of the landlady passed my door,
bound for the same destination. It was
close upon twelve before I heard the
sharn sound of his latch-key. The In
stant he entered 1 saw by his fare that
he had not been successful. Amuse
ment and chagrin seemed to be strug-
gliftg for the mastery, until the former
suddenly carried the day, and he burst
Into a hearty laugh.
“I wouldn’t have the Scotland Yard-
ers know it for the world,” he cried,
dropping Into his chair; “1 have chaffed
them so much that they would never
have let me hear tho end of It. I can
afford to laugh, In-cause 1 know that 1
will be even with them in the long
run.”
“What is it, then?” I asked.
“Oh, I don’t mind telling a story
against myself. That creature had
gone a little way when she began to
limp and show every sign of being
foot-sore. Presently she came to a liait,
and hailed a four-wheeler which was
passing. I managed to be close enough
to ner to hear the address, but 1 need
not have been so anxious, for she sang
it out loud enough to be heard at the
other side of the street. ‘Drive to 18
Duncan street, Iloundsditch,’ she
cried. This begins to look gen
uine, I cried, and having seen
her safely Inside, I perched my
self behind. That’s an art which every
detective should be an expert at. WeU,
away we rattled, and never drew a
rein until we reached the street in
question. I hopped off before we came
to the door, and strolled down the
street in an easy, lounging way. I saw
the cab pull up. The driver jumped
down, and I saw him open the door
and stand expectantly. Nothing came
out, though. When I reached him he
was groping about frantically in the
empty cab, and giving vent to the
finest assorted collection of oaths that
ever 1 listened to. There was no sign
or trace of his passenger, and I fear it
will be some time before he gets his
fare. On inquiring at No. 18 I found
that the house belonged to a respaota
ble paper-hanger, named Keswick, and
that no one of the name either of Saw
yer or Dennis had ever been heard of
there.”
“You don’t mean to say,” I cried, In
amazement, “that that tottering, f c-
ble old woman was able to get out of
the cab while it was in motion, with
out either you or the driver seeing
her?”
“Old woman be d—d!” said Sherlock
Holmes, sharply. “We were the old
women to be so taken in. It must have
been a young man, and an active one,
too, besides being an incomparable ac
tor. The get-up was inimitable. He
saw that he was followed, no doubt,
and used this means of giving me the
slip. It shows that the man we are
after is not as lonely as I imagined he
was, but has friends who are ready to
risk something for him. Now, doctor,
you are looking done-up. Take my ad
vice and turn in.”
I was certainly feeling very weary,
so I obeyed his injunction. I left
Holmes seated in front of the smolder
ing fire, and long into the watches of
the night I heard the low, melancholy
wailings of his violin, and knew that
he was still pondering over the strange
problem which he had set himself to
unravel.
be on account of tbetr exertions; If he
escapes it will be in spite of their ex
ertions. It’s heads I win and tails yon
lose. Whatever they do they wlU have
followers. ‘Un sot truve toujours un
plus sot quiTadmire.’ ”
•’What on earth is this?” I cried, for
at this moment there came the patter
ing of many steps in the hall and on
the stairs, accompan.ed by audible ex
pressions of disgust upon the part of
our landlady-.
“It's the Baker street division of the
detective police force,” said my com
panion gravely; and as he spoke there
rushed into the room half a dozen of
the dirtiest and most ragged street-
Arabs that ever I clapped eyes on.
“ ’Tention!” cried Holmes, in a sharp
tone, and the six dirty little scoun
drels stood in a Hue like so many statu
ettes. “In future you shall send up
Wiggins alone to report, aud the rest
CHARLESTON. SUMTER AND
^ NORTHERN RAILROAD
CHARLES E. KIMBALL Receiver
In Effect Jan. 16, 1894
NORTH. SOUTH.
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12.05 Darlington 4.12
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1.20 Gibson 2.57
1.47 Hamlet 2.30
Ar 6 00 Raleigh 10.15 Lv
P.M- P.M.
No. 1 connnects with Seaboard
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No. 2 passengers by this train have
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lotte, connects with S. A. L. at Ham
let from Charlotte, Raleigh and
North, and from Wilmington, con
nects with 8. C, Ry. at Pregnalls for
harleston, Columbia, Augusta and
the West. Dinner at Hamlet.
C. MILLARD, Superintendent.
c
&3D. and C. A S. RAILROADS,
i In effect Dec 3, 1893.
Through Passenger Train.
CHAPTER VL
TOBIAS GREGSON SHOWS WHAT HE CAR DO.
The papers next day were full of the
"Brixton mystery,” as they termed it.
Each had a long account of the affair,
and some had leaders upon it in addi
tion. There was some information in
them which was new to me. I still re
tain in my scrap book numerous clip
pings and extracts bearing upon the
case. Here is a condensation of a few
of them:
The Daily Telegraph remarked that
in the history of crime there had sel
dom bean a tragedy which presentad
stranger features. The German name
of the victim, the absence of all other
motive, and the sinister inscription on
the wall, all pointed to its perpetration
by political refugees and revolution
ists. The socislists had many hranchse
in America, and the deceased had, no
doubt, infringed their unwritten laws
and been tracked down by them.
After alluding airily to the Vehm-
gericht, aqua tofana, Carbonari, the
Marchioness de Urinvilliers, the Dar-I
winian theory, the principles of
Maltbus and the Ratcliff highway
murders, the article concluded by ad
monishing the government and advo
cating a closer watch over foreigners
in England.
The Standard commented upon the
fact that lawless outrages of the sort
-usually occurred under a liberal ad
ministration. They arose from the
unsettling of the m'nds of the masses,
and the conseqcont weakening of all
authority. The deceased was an
American gentleman who had been
residing for some weeks in the
metropolis. He had stayed at the
boarding-house of Mme. Charpentier,
In Torquay Terrace, Cambenvell. He
was accompanied in his travels by his
private secratary, Mr. Joseph Stanger-
son. The two bade adieu to their
landlady upon Tuesday, the 4th inst.,
and departed to Euston station with
the avowed intention of catching the
Liverpool express They were after
ward seen together on the platorm
Nothing more is known of them untl
Mr. Drebbcr's body was, as recorded
discovered in an empty house in th<
Brixton road, many miles from Euston
How he came there or how be met hii
fate are questions which are still in
volved in mystery. Nothing is knowi
of the whereabouts of Stangerson
We are glad to learn that Mr. Les
trade and Mr. Gregson, of Scotland
Yard, are both engaged upon the case,
and it Is confidently anticipated that
these well-known officers will speedily
throw light upon the matter.
The Daily News observed that ther<
was no doubt as to the crime being s
political one. The despotism and ha
tred of liberalism which animated the
eontinental governments had had the
effect of driving to our shoresa number
of men who might have made excellent
citizens were they not soared by the
recollection of all that they had un
dergone. Among these men there wae
a stringent code of honor, any In
fringement of which was punished by
death. Every effort should be made
to find the secretary, Stangerson, and
to ascertain some particulars of the
habits of the deceased. A great step
had been gained by the discovery of
the address of the house at which he
had boarded—a result which was en
tirely due to the acuteness and energy
Of Mr. Gregson, of Scotland Yard.
Sherlock Holmes and I read these
notices over together at breakfast, and
they appeared to afford him considera
ble amusement
"I told you that whatever happened
Lestrade and Gregson would be sure to
score.”
“That depends on how it turns ont”
“Oh, bless you, it doesn't matter In
the least If the man is ouurht it vlU
7 -n :j
“HAVE YOU FOUND IT, WIGGINS?”
of you must wait in the street Have
you found it, Wiggins?”
“No, sir, we hain’t,” said one of the
youths.
“I hardly expected you would. You
must keep on until you do. Here are
your wages.” He handed each of them
a shilling. “Now, off you go, and
cotne back with a better report next
time.”
He waved his hand, and they scam
pered away downstairs like so many
rats, and we heard their shrill voices
next moment in the street
“There’s more work to be got out of
one of those little beggars than out of
a dozen of the force," llolmes remarked.
“The mere sight of an official-looking
person seals men's lips. These young
sters, however, go everywhere and
hear everything. They are as sharp aa
needles, too; all they want is organi
zation.”
“Is it on this Brixton case that you
t*e employing them?” I asked.
“Yes; there is a point which I wish
to ascertain. It is merely a matter of
time. Hullo! we are going to hear
some news now with a vengeance!
Here is Gregson coming down the road
with beatitude written upon every
feature of his face. Bound for us, I
know. Yes, he is stopping. There he
is!”
There was a violent peal at the bell,
and in a few seconds the fair-haired
detective came up the stairs, three
steps at a time, and burst into our sik
ting-room.
“My dear fellow,” he cried, wringing
Holmes’ unresponsive hand, “Congrat
ulate me! I have made the whole
thing as clear as day.”
A shade of anxiety seemed to me to
cross my companion's expressive face.
“Do you mean that you are on the
right track?” he asked.
“The right track! Why, sir, we have
the man under lock and key."
“And his name is?”
“Arthur Charpentier, sub-lieutenant
in her majesty’s navy,” cried Gregson,
pompously, rubbing his tat hands and
inflating his chest.
Sherlock Holmes gave a sigh of re
lief and relaxed into a smile.
"Take a scat and try one of these
cigars,” he said. “We are anxious to
know how you managed it. WlU you
have some whisky and water?”
[TO BE CONTINUED.]
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Co’s drugstore.
Leave Wadesboro
4.30 a m
Bennett’s
4,51 am
Morven’s
. 5.04 a m
McFarland
. 5 17 a m
Cheraw
6.00 a m
Cash's
Society Hill
6.26 a m
Dove’s
6.44 a m
Floyd’s
6.49 a m
Darlington
7.00 a m
Palmetto
Arrive Florence
Leave Florence
Palmetto
7.28 p m
Darlington
Floyd’s
7.38 p m
7.50 p m
Dove’s
7 55 p m
Society Hill
8.13 p m
Cash's
8.27 p m
Cheraw.
8.50 p m
McFarland
9.13 p m
Morven’s
9,39 p m
Bennett’s
9.54 p m
Arrive Wadesboro
10.15 p m
Freight Train.
Leave Florence
7.30 a m
Darlington
8.40 a m
Arrive Uheiaw
.11.20 a m
Leave Cheraw
Darlington
4.00 p m
Arrive Florence
5.00 p m
A. F. RAVENEL, President.
N
ORTHEASTERN RAILROAD.
In effect Jan. 11, 1894.
SOUTH BOUHD.
Is Your Life
Worth Anything
toothers? Are there not
perspns dependent on
your earnings for their
support? Are they pro*
vided for in case of your
death? The simplest and
safest way of assuring
their protection is life in*
surance. Business, pro*
fessioual, and working
men generally, should in
sure, for their brains or
their muscles, are their
capital and income too.
Death stops them both.
Insure in the
Equitable Life
and death cannotstopyour
salary or steal your capi
tal, and your loved ones
will be safe from want
W. J. RODDEY,
General Ageat <tor IMsCaiollaas,
ROCK HILL, South Carolina.
XTARTSVILLE RAILROAD.
In effect Dec 3,1898.
DAILY MIXED TRAIN
Leave Hartsville 6.00 a m
Jovann 6.20 a m
Flovd’s 6.85 a m
ArriveDarlington 7.20 a m
Leave Darlington 6.80 p m
Floyd’s 8.00 p m
Jovann 8.20pm
Arrrlve Hartsville 8.40 p m
J, F. DIVINE, Gen. Snpt.
No. 61
Leave Florence 7.45 a m
Kingstree 8.58 a m
Lanes 9.20 a in
Arrive Charleston 11.20 a m
No. 35.
Leave Florence 8.37 a m
Lanes 4.52 a in
Arrive Charleston 6.50 a m
No. 28.
Leave Florence 7.25 p m
Kingstree 8.37 p in
I<anes 9.00 p m
Arrive Charleston 11.00 p in
No. 58.
Leave Lanes 7.05 p in
Arrive Charleston 8.45 p m
Train on C. & D. R. R. connects at
Florence with No. 61 Train.
NORTH BOUND.
No. 78.
Leave Charleston 8.35 a m
Lanes 5.30 am
Kingstree 5 52 a m
Arrive Florence 7.10 a m
No. 60
Leave Charleston 5.00 p m
Lanes 7.05 p m
Kingstree 7.25 p m
Arrive Florence 8.50 p m
No. 14.
Leave Charleston 3.30 p m
Lanes 5.29 p in
Kingstree 5.45 p m
Arrive Florence 6.45 p in
No. 52.
Leave Charleston 7.00 a m
Arrive Lanes 8.35 a m
No. 52 runs throngh to Columbia
via Central R. R. of S. C.
No. 78 runs solid to Wilming
ton, N. C., making close connection
with W. & W. R. R. for all points
North.
Train No. 14 runs via Wilson
and Favetteville—Short Line—and
makes close connection for all points
North.
J. F. DIVINE, Gen. Snpt.
r*7ILMINGTON, COLUMBIA *
W™ AUGUSTA RALROAD.
In effect Dec. 8. 1898.
SOUTH BOUND.
, No. 63.
Leave Wilmington 8.20 pm
Marion o il p m
Arrive Florence 6.50 p m
No. 50.
Leave Florence 7.10 p m
Sumter 8.28 p m
Arrive Colombia 10.00 p m
No. 58.
Leave Florence 7.45 a m
Arrive Sumter 9 20 a m
No. 62.
Leave Sumter 9.53 a m
Arrive Columbia 11.05 a m
No. 52 runs through from Charles
ton via Central Railroad; leaving
Lanes 8.40 a m, Manning 9 18 a m,
NORTH BOUND.
r „ No. 51.
Leave Columbia 4.30 a m
Sumter 5.57 a m
Arrive Florence 7.15 a m
No. 56.
Leave Florence 7.40 a m
Marion 8.23 a m
Arrive Wilmington 11.io a m
No. 58.
Leave Colombia 4.20 p m
Arrive Sumter 5.35 p m
No. 59.
Leave Columbia
Sumter 5.45 p m
Arrive Florence.... 6.55 p m
No. 58 mns thiougu w unarleston
via central Railroad, arriving Man
ning 6.15 p m, Lane* 7.00 p w,
Oharieston8.45 pm.
Trains on Mancheeter and Augusta
B. R-, leave Sumter daily except Sun
day, 10.50 a. m., arrive Rimini 11:59 a.
m. Returning leave Rimini 1.00 p.
m.. arrive Sumter 2:10 p. m. ,
Trains on Wilmington, Chad bourn
aud Conway Railroad leave Chad-
bourn at 10.10 a m, arrive at Conway
12.30 p m, returning leave Conway at
2:00 p. m.. arrive Chadbourn 4:50 p.
m. Leave Chadbourn 7.00 a m and
5.15 pm, arrive at Hub 7.46 a m and
6.00 pm. Returning leave Hnb 8.13 a
m aud 6-30 p m, arrive at Chadbooiu
9.00 a m ana 7.15 p m. Daily except
Sunday.
JOHN F, DIVINE. Gen’l Sup’t.