"
The detective's face had grown longer and longer during Holmes's
speech. His hopes and his ambitions were all crumbling about him.
But he would not abandon his position without a struggle.
"You can't deny that Neligan was present that night, Mr. Holmes.
The book will prove that. I fancy that I have evidence enough
to satisfy a jury, even if you are able to pick a hole in it.
Besides, Mr. Holmes, I have laid my hand upon MY man. As to
this terrible person of yours, where is he?"
"I rather fancy that he is on the stair," said Holmes, serenely.
"I think, Watson, that you would do well to put that revolver
where you can reach it." He rose, and laid a written paper
upon a side-table. "Now we are ready," said he.
There had been some talking in gruff voices outside, and now
Mrs. Hudson opened the door to say that there were three men
inquiring for Captain Basil.
"Show them in one by one," said Holmes.
The first who entered was a little ribston-pippin of a man,
with ruddy cheeks and fluffy white side-whiskers. Holmes had
drawn a letter from his pocket.
"What name?" he asked.
"James Lancaster.
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