No, I see nothing in that. Pencils, too, and knives
-- all was satisfactory. But that fellow DOES puzzle me."
"Who?"
"Why, Bannister, the servant. What's his game in the matter?"
"He impressed me as being a perfectly honest man."
"So he did me. That's the puzzling part. Why should a
perfectly honest man -- well, well, here's a large stationer's.
We shall begin our researches here."
There were only four stationers of any consequence in the town,
and at each Holmes produced his pencil chips and bid high for a
duplicate. All were agreed that one could be ordered, but that
it was not a usual size of pencil and that it was seldom kept in
stock. My friend did not appear to be depressed by his failure,
but shrugged his shoulders in half-humorous resignation.
"No good, my dear Watson. This, the best and only final clue,
has run to nothing. But, indeed, I have little doubt that we can
build up a sufficient case without it. By Jove! my dear fellow,
it is nearly nine, and the landlady babbled of green peas at
seven-thirty. What with your eternal tobacco, Watson, and your
irregularity at meals, I expect that you will get notice to quit
and that I shall share your downfall -- not, however, before we
have solved the problem of the nervous tutor, the careless
servant, and the three enterprising students.
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