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"We must be circumspect, for we are dealing with a very cunning

man. We can do nothing until seven o'clock. At that hour we shall

be with you, and it will not be long before we solve the

mystery."

We were as good as our word, for it was just seven when we

reached the Copper Beeches, having put up our trap at a wayside

public-house. The group of trees, with their dark leaves shining

like burnished metal in the light of the setting sun, were

sufficient to mark the house even had Miss Hunter not been

standing smiling on the door-step.

"Have you managed it?" asked Holmes.

A loud thudding noise came from somewhere downstairs. "That is

Mrs. Toller in the cellar," said she. "Her husband lies snoring

on the kitchen rug. Here are his keys, which are the duplicates

of Mr. Rucastle's."

"You have done well indeed!" cried Holmes with enthusiasm. "Now

lead the way, and we shall soon see the end of this black

business."