` . ` . ` . "Can you remember that?"
"No, I cannot."
"But I can. I could swear to it. However, we will go back at
our leisure and verify it. What a blind beetle I have been not
to draw my conclusion!"
"And what is your conclusion?"
"Only that it is a remarkable cow which walks, canters, and gallops.
By George, Watson, it was no brain of a country publican that
thought out such a blind as that! The coast seems to be clear,
save for that lad in the smithy. Let us slip out and see what
we can see."
There were two rough-haired, unkempt horses in the tumble-down
stable. Holmes raised the hind leg of one of them and laughed aloud.
"Old shoes, but newly shod -- old shoes, but new nails. This
case deserves to be a classic. Let us go across to the smithy."
The lad continued his work without regarding us. I saw Holmes's
eye darting to right and left among the litter of iron and wood
which was scattered about the floor. Suddenly, however, we
heard a step behind us, and there was the landlord, his heavy
eyebrows drawn over his savage eyes, his swarthy features
convulsed with passion. He held a short, metal-headed stick
in his hand, and he advanced in so menacing a fashion that I was
right glad to feel the revolver in my pocket.
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