"I hardly expected you would. You must keep on until you do. Here areyour wages." [13] He handed each of them a shilling.
"Now, off you go, and come back with a better report next time."
He waved his hand, and they scampered away downstairs like so many rats,and we heard their shrill voices next moment in the street.
"There's more work to be got out of one of those little beggars thanout of a dozen of the force," Holmes remarked. "The mere sight of anofficial-looking person seals men's lips. These youngsters, however, goeverywhere and hear everything. They are as sharp as needles, too; allthey want is organisation."
"Is it on this Brixton case that you are employing them?" I asked.
"Yes; there is a point which I wish to ascertain. It is merely a matterof time. Hullo! we are going to hear some news now with a vengeance!Here is Gregson coming down the road with beatitude written upon everyfeature of his face. Bound for us, I know. Yes, he is stopping. There heis!"
There was a violent peal at the bell, and in a few seconds thefair-haired detective came up the stairs, three steps at a time, andburst into our sitting-room.
"My dear fellow," he cried, wringing Holmes' unresponsive hand,"congratulate me! I have made the whole thing as clear as day."
A shade of anxiety seemed to me to cross my companion's expressive face.
"Do you mean that you are on the right track?" he asked.
"The right track! Why, sir, we have the man under lock and key."
"And his name is?"
"Arthur Charpentier, sub-lieutenant in Her Majesty's navy," criedGregson, pompously, rubbing his fat hands and inflating his chest.
Sherlock Holmes gave a sigh of relief, and relaxed into a smile.
"Take a seat, and try one of these cigars," he said. "We are anxious toknow how you managed it. Will you have some whiskey and water?"
"I don't mind if I do," the detective answered. "The tremendousexertions which I have gone through during the last day or two have wornme out. Not so much bodily exertion, you understand, as the strain uponthe mind. You will appreciate that, Mr. Sherlock Holmes, for we are bothbrain-workers."
"You do me too much honour," said Holmes, gravely. "Let us hear how youarrived at this most gratifying result."
The detective seated himself in the arm-chair, and puffed complacentlyat his cigar. Then suddenly he slapped his thigh in a paroxysm ofamusement.
"The fun of it is," he cried, "that that fool Lestrade, who thinkshimself so smart, has gone off upon the wrong track altogether. He isafter the secretary Stangerson, who had no more to do with the crimethan the babe unborn. I have no doubt that he has caught him by thistime."
The idea tickled Gregson so much that he laughed until he choked.
"And how did you get your clue?"
"Ah, I'll tell you all about it. Of course, Doctor Watson, this isstrictly between ourselves. The first difficulty which we had to contendwith was the finding of this American's antecedents. Some people wouldhave waited until their advertisements were answered, or until partiescame forward and volunteered information. That is not Tobias Gregson'sway of going to work. You remember the hat beside the dead man?"
"Yes," said Holmes; "by John Underwood and Sons, 129, Camberwell Road."
Gregson looked quite crest-fallen.
"I had no idea that you noticed that," he said. "Have you been there?"
"No."
"Ha!" cried Gregson, in a relieved voice; "you should never neglect achance, however small it may seem."
"To a great mind, nothing is little," remarked Holmes, sententiously.
"Well, I went to Underwood, and asked him if he had sold a hat of thatsize and description. He looked over his books, and came on it at once.He had sent the hat to a Mr. Drebber, residing at Charpentier's BoardingEstablishment, Torquay Terrace. Thus I got at his address."
"Smart--very smart!" murmured Sherlock Holmes.