"
The old man had just finished his lunch, and certainly his empty
dish bore evidence to the good appetite with which his
housekeeper had credited him. He was, indeed, a weird figure
as he turned his white mane and his glowing eyes towards us.
The eternal cigarette smouldered in his mouth. He had been
dressed and was seated in an arm-chair by the fire.
"Well, Mr. Holmes, have you solved this mystery yet?" He shoved
the large tin of cigarettes which stood on a table beside him
towards my companion. Holmes stretched out his hand at the same
moment, and between them they tipped the box over the edge.
For a minute or two we were all on our knees retrieving stray
cigarettes from impossible places. When we rose again I observed
that Holmes's eyes were shining and his cheeks tinged with colour.
Only at a crisis have I seen those battle-signals flying.
"Yes," said he, "I have solved it."
Stanley Hopkins and I stared in amazement. Something like a
sneer quivered over the gaunt features of the old Professor.
"Indeed! In the garden?"
"No, here."
"Here! When?"
"This instant."
"You are surely joking, Mr.
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