"See the value of imagination," said Holmes. "It is the one qualitywhich Gregory lacks. We imagined what might have happened, acted uponthe supposition, and find ourselves justified. Let us proceed."
We crossed the marshy bottom and passed over a quarter of a mile of dry,hard turf. Again the ground sloped, and again we came on the tracks.Then we lost them for half a mile, but only to pick them up once morequite close to Mapleton. It was Holmes who saw them first, and he stoodpointing with a look of triumph upon his face. A man's track was visiblebeside the horse's.
"The horse was alone before," I cried.
"Quite so. It was alone before. Hullo, what is this?"
The double track turned sharp off and took the direction of King'sPyland. Holmes whistled, and we both followed along after it. His eyeswere on the trail, but I happened to look a little to one side, andsaw to my surprise the same tracks coming back again in the oppositedirection.
"One for you, Watson," said Holmes, when I pointed it out. "You havesaved us a long walk, which would have brought us back on our owntraces. Let us follow the return track."
We had not to go far. It ended at the paving of asphalt which led upto the gates of the Mapleton stables. As we approached, a groom ran outfrom them.
"We don't want any loiterers about here," said he.
"I only wished to ask a question," said Holmes, with his finger andthumb in his waistcoat pocket. "Should I be too early to see yourmaster, Mr. Silas Brown, if I were to call at five o'clock to-morrowmorning?"
"Bless you, sir, if any one is about he will be, for he is alwaysthe first stirring. But here he is, sir, to answer your questions forhimself. No, sir, no; it is as much as my place is worth to let him seeme touch your money. Afterwards, if you like."
As Sherlock Holmes replaced the half-crown which he had drawn from hispocket, a fierce-looking elderly man strode out from the gate with ahunting-crop swinging in his hand.
"What's this, Dawson!" he cried. "No gossiping!
Go about your business!And you, what the devil do you want here?"
"Ten minutes' talk with you, my good sir," said Holmes in the sweetestof voices.
"I've no time to talk to every gadabout. We want no stranger here. Beoff, or you may find a dog at your heels."
Holmes leaned forward and whispered something in the trainer's ear. Hestarted violently and flushed to the temples.
"It's a lie!" he shouted, "an infernal lie!"
"Very good. Shall we argue about it here in public or talk it over inyour parlor?"
"Oh, come in if you wish to."
Holmes smiled. "I shall not keep you more than a few minutes, Watson,"said he. "Now, Mr. Brown, I am quite at your disposal."
It was twenty minutes, and the reds had all faded into grays beforeHolmes and the trainer reappeared. Never have I seen such a change ashad been brought about in Silas Brown in that short time. His face wasashy pale, beads of perspiration shone upon his brow, and his handsshook until the hunting-crop wagged like a branch in the wind. Hisbullying, overbearing manner was all gone too, and he cringed along atmy companion's side like a dog with its master.
"Your instructions will be done. It shall all be done," said he.
"There must be no mistake," said Holmes, looking round at him. The otherwinced as he read the menace in his eyes.
"Oh no, there shall be no mistake. It shall be there. Should I change itfirst or not?"
Holmes thought a little and then burst out laughing. "No, don't," saidhe; "I shall write to you about it. No tricks, now, or--"
"Oh, you can trust me, you can trust me!"
"Yes, I think I can. Well, you shall hear from me to-morrow." He turnedupon his heel, disregarding the trembling hand which the other held outto him, and we set off for King's Pyland.
"A more perfect compound of the bully, coward, and sneak than MasterSilas Brown I have seldom met with," remarked Holmes as we trudged alongtogether.
"He has the horse, then?"
"He tried to bluster out of it, but I described to him so exactly whathis actions had been upon that morning that he is convinced that I waswatching him. Of course you observed the peculiarly square toes in theimpressions, and that his own boots exactly corresponded to them.Again, of course no subordinate would have dared to do such a thing.I described to him how, when according to his custom he was the firstdown, he perceived a strange horse wandering over the moor. How he wentout to it, and his astonishment at recognizing, from the white foreheadwhich has given the favorite its name, that chance had put in his powerthe only horse which could beat the one upon which he had put his money.Then I described how his first impulse had been to lead him back toKing's Pyland, and how the devil had shown him how he could hide thehorse until the race was over, and how he had led it back and concealedit at Mapleton. When I told him every detail he gave it up and thoughtonly of saving his own skin."