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Sherlock Holmes looked deeply chagrined. He drew a sovereign from

his pocket and threw it down upon the slab, turning away with the

air of a man whose disgust is too deep for words. A few yards off

he stopped under a lamp-post and laughed in the hearty, noiseless

fashion which was peculiar to him.

"When you see a man with whiskers of that cut and the 'Pink 'un'

protruding out of his pocket, you can always draw him by a bet,"

said he. "I daresay that if I had put £ 100 down in front of him,

that man would not have given me such complete information as was

drawn from him by the idea that he was doing me on a wager. Well,

Watson, we are, I fancy, nearing the end of our quest, and the

only point which remains to be determined is whether we should go

on to this Mrs. Oakshott to-night, or whether we should reserve

it for to-morrow. It is clear from what that surly fellow said

that there are others besides ourselves who are anxious about the

matter, and I should-"