"'Good-evening,' said he, looking through the window. 'I wanted to havea word with you.' The girl has sworn that as he spoke she noticed thecorner of the little paper packet protruding from his closed hand.
"'What business have you here?' asked the lad.
"'It's business that may put something into your pocket,' said theother. 'You've two horses in for the Wessex Cup--Silver Blaze andBayard. Let me have the straight tip and you won't be a loser. Is it afact that at the weights Bayard could give the other a hundred yards infive furlongs, and that the stable have put their money on him?'
"'So, you're one of those damned touts!' cried the lad. 'I'll show youhow we serve them in King's Pyland.' He sprang up and rushed across thestable to unloose the dog. The girl fled away to the house, but as sheran she looked back and saw that the stranger was leaning through thewindow. A minute later, however, when Hunter rushed out with the houndhe was gone, and though he ran all round the buildings he failed to findany trace of him."
"One moment," I asked. "Did the stable-boy, when he ran out with thedog, leave the door unlocked behind him?"
"Excellent, Watson, excellent!" murmured my companion. "The importanceof the point struck me so forcibly that I sent a special wire toDartmoor yesterday to clear the matter up. The boy locked the doorbefore he left it. The window, I may add, was not large enough for a manto get through.
"Hunter waited until his fellow-grooms had returned, when he sent amessage to the trainer and told him what had occurred. Straker wasexcited at hearing the account, although he does not seem to have quiterealized its true significance. It left him, however, vaguely uneasy,and Mrs. Straker, waking at one in the morning, found that he wasdressing. In reply to her inquiries, he said that he could not sleep onaccount of his anxiety about the horses, and that he intended to walkdown to the stables to see that all was well. She begged him to remainat home, as she could hear the rain pattering against the window, but inspite of her entreaties he pulled on his large mackintosh and left thehouse.
"Mrs. Straker awoke at seven in the morning, to find that her husbandhad not yet returned. She dressed herself hastily, called the maid, andset off for the stables. The door was open; inside, huddled togetherupon a chair, Hunter was sunk in a state of absolute stupor, thefavorite's stall was empty, and there were no signs of his trainer.
"The two lads who slept in the chaff-cutting loft above the harness-roomwere quickly aroused. They had heard nothing during the night, for theyare both sound sleepers. Hunter was obviously under the influence ofsome powerful drug, and as no sense could be got out of him, he was leftto sleep it off while the two lads and the two women ran out in searchof the absentees. They still had hopes that the trainer had for somereason taken out the horse for early exercise, but on ascending theknoll near the house, from which all the neighboring moors were visible,they not only could see no signs of the missing favorite, but theyperceived something which warned them that they were in the presence ofa tragedy.
"About a quarter of a mile from the stables John Straker's overcoat wasflapping from a furze-bush. Immediately beyond there was a bowl-shapeddepression in the moor, and at the bottom of this was found the deadbody of the unfortunate trainer. His head had been shattered by a savageblow from some heavy weapon, and he was wounded on the thigh, wherethere was a long, clean cut, inflicted evidently by some very sharpinstrument. It was clear, however, that Straker had defended himselfvigorously against his assailants, for in his right hand he held a smallknife, which was clotted with blood up to the handle, while in his lefthe clasped a red and black silk cravat, which was recognized by the maidas having been worn on the preceding evening by the stranger who hadvisited the stables. Hunter, on recovering from his stupor, was alsoquite positive as to the ownership of the cravat. He was equally certainthat the same stranger had, while standing at the window, drugged hiscurried mutton, and so deprived the stables of their watchman. As to themissing horse, there were abundant proofs in the mud which lay at thebottom of the fatal hollow that he had been there at the time of thestruggle. But from that morning he has disappeared, and although a largereward has been offered, and all the gypsies of Dartmoor are on thealert, no news has come of him. Finally, an analysis has shown thatthe remains of his supper left by the stable-lad contain an appreciablequantity of powdered opium, while the people at the house partook of thesame dish on the same night without any ill effect.
"Those are the main facts of the case, stripped of all surmise, andstated as baldly as possible. I shall now recapitulate what the policehave done in the matter.
"Inspector Gregory, to whom the case has been committed, is an extremelycompetent officer. Were he but gifted with imagination he might rise togreat heights in his profession. On his arrival he promptly found andarrested the man upon whom suspicion naturally rested. There was littledifficulty in finding him, for he inhabited one of those villas which Ihave mentioned. His name, it appears, was Fitzroy Simpson. He was a manof excellent birth and education, who had squandered a fortune upon theturf, and who lived now by doing a little quiet and genteel book-makingin the sporting clubs of London. An examination of his betting-bookshows that bets to the amount of five thousand pounds had beenregistered by him against the favorite. On being arrested he volunteeredthe statement that he had come down to Dartmoor in the hope ofgetting some information about the King's Pyland horses, and also aboutDesborough, the second favorite, which was in charge of Silas Brown atthe Mapleton stables. He did not attempt to deny that he had acted asdescribed upon the evening before, but declared that he had no sinisterdesigns, and had simply wished to obtain first-hand information. Whenconfronted with his cravat, he turned very pale, and was utterly unableto account for its presence in the hand of the murdered man. His wetclothing showed that he had been out in the storm of the night before,and his stick, which was a Penang-lawyer weighted with lead, was justsuch a weapon as might, by repeated blows, have inflicted the terribleinjuries to which the trainer had succumbed. On the other hand, therewas no wound upon his person, while the state of Straker's knife wouldshow that one at least of his assailants must bear his mark upon him.There you have it all in a nutshell, Watson, and if you can give me anylight I shall be infinitely obliged to you."
I had listened with the greatest interest to the statement which Holmes,with characteristic clearness, had laid before me. Though most of thefacts were familiar to me, I had not sufficiently appreciated theirrelative importance, nor their connection to each other.
"Is it not possible," I suggested, "that the incised wound upon Strakermay have been caused by his own knife in the convulsive struggles whichfollow any brain injury?"
"It is more than possible; it is probable," said Holmes. "In that caseone of the main points in favor of the accused disappears."
"And yet," said I, "even now I fail to understand what the theory of thepolice can be."
"I am afraid that whatever theory we state has very grave objections toit," returned my companion. "The police imagine, I take it, that thisFitzroy Simpson, having drugged the lad, and having in some way obtaineda duplicate key, opened the stable door and took out the horse, withthe intention, apparently, of kidnapping him altogether. His bridle ismissing, so that Simpson must have put this on. Then, having left thedoor open behind him, he was leading the horse away over the moor, whenhe was e
ither met or overtaken by the trainer. A row naturally ensued.Simpson beat out the trainer's brains with his heavy stick withoutreceiving any injury from the small knife which Straker used inself-defence, and then the thief either led the horse on to some secrethiding-place, or else it may have bolted during the struggle, and benow wandering out on the moors. That is the case as it appears tothe police, and improbable as it is, all other explanations are moreimprobable still. However, I shall very quickly test the matter when Iam once upon the spot, and until then I cannot really see how we can getmuch further than our present position."
It was evening before we reached the little town of Tavistock, whichlies, like the boss of a shield, in the middle of the huge circle ofDartmoor. Two gentlemen were awaiting us in the station--the one a tall,fair man with lion-like hair and beard and curiously penetrating lightblue eyes; the other a small, alert person, very neat and dapper, in afrock-coat and gaiters, with trim little side-whiskers and an eye-glass.The latter was Colonel Ross, the well-known sportsman; the other,Inspector Gregory, a man who was rapidly making his name in the Englishdetective service.
"I am delighted that you have come down, Mr. Holmes," said the Colonel."The Inspector here has done all that could possibly be suggested, but Iwish to leave no stone unturned in trying to avenge poor Straker and inrecovering my horse."
"Have there been any fresh developments?" asked Holmes.
"I am sorry to say that we have made very little progress," said theInspector. "We have an open carriage outside, and as you would no doubtlike to see the place before the light fails, we might talk it over aswe drive."
A minute later we were all seated in a comfortable landau, and wererattling through the quaint old Devonshire city. Inspector Gregory wasfull of his case, and poured out a stream of remarks, while Holmes threwin an occasional question or interjection. Colonel Ross leaned back withhis arms folded and his hat tilted over his eyes, while I listened withinterest to the dialogue of the two detectives. Gregory was formulatinghis theory, which was almost exactly what Holmes had foretold in thetrain.
"The net is drawn pretty close round Fitzroy Simpson," he remarked, "andI believe myself that he is our man. At the same time I recognize thatthe evidence is purely circumstantial, and that some new development mayupset it."
"How about Straker's knife?"
"We have quite come to the conclusion that he wounded himself in hisfall."
"My friend Dr. Watson made that suggestion to me as we came down. If so,it would tell against this man Simpson."
"Undoubtedly. He has neither a knife nor any sign of a wound. Theevidence against him is certainly very strong. He had a great interestin the disappearance of the favorite. He lies under suspicion of havingpoisoned the stable-boy, he was undoubtedly out in the storm, he wasarmed with a heavy stick, and his cravat was found in the dead man'shand. I really think we have enough to go before a jury."
Holmes shook his head. "A clever counsel would tear it all to rags,"said he. "Why should he take the horse out of the stable? If he wishedto injure it why could he not do it there? Has a duplicate key beenfound in his possession? What chemist sold him the powdered opium? Aboveall, where could he, a stranger to the district, hide a horse, and sucha horse as this? What is his own explanation as to the paper which hewished the maid to give to the stable-boy?"
"He says that it was a ten-pound note. One was found in his purse. Butyour other difficulties are not so formidable as they seem. He is nota stranger to the district. He has twice lodged at Tavistock in thesummer. The opium was probably brought from London. The key, havingserved its purpose, would be hurled away. The horse may be at the bottomof one of the pits or old mines upon the moor."