orceintothescalp.Youobservethatthepartstruckwasthatwhichwouldbeturnedtowardstheholeintheceilingifthemanwereerectinhischair.Nowexaminethethorn.”
Itookitupgingerlyandhelditinthelightofthelantern.Itwaslong,sharp,andblack,withaglazedlooknearthepointasthoughsomegummysubstancehaddrieduponit.Thebluntendhadbeentrimmedandroundedoffwithaknife.
“IsthatanEnglishthorn?”heasked.
“No,itcertainlyisnot.”
“Withallthesedatayoushouldbeabletodrawsomejustinference.Butherearetheregularssotheauxiliaryforcesmaybeataretreat.”
Ashespoke,thestepswhichhadbeencomingnearersoundedloudlyonthepassage,andaverystout,portlymaninagreysuitstrodeheavilyintotheroom.Hewasred-faced,burlyandplethoric,withapairofverysmalltwinklingeyeswhichlookedkeenlyoutfrombetweenswollenandpuffypouches.Hewascloselyfollowedbyaninspectorinuniform,andbythestillpalpitatingThaddeusSholto.
“Here’sabusiness!”hecried,inamuffled,huskyvoice.“Here’saprettybusiness!Butwhoareallthese?Why,thehouseseemstobeasfullasarabbit-warren!”
“Ithinkyoumustrecollectme,Mr.AthelneyJones,”saidHolmes,quietly.
“Why,ofcourseIdo!”hewheezed.“It’sMr.SherlockHolmes,thetheorist.Rememberyou!I’llneverforgethowyoulecturedusalloncausesandinferencesandeffectsintheBishopgatejewelcase.It’strueyousetusontherighttrackbutyou’llownnowthatitwasmorebygoodluckthangoodguidance.”
“Itwasapieceofverysimplereasoning.”
“Oh,come,now,come!Neverbeashamedtoownup.Butwhatisallthis?Badbusiness!Badbusiness!Sternfactshere,—noroomfortheories.HowluckythatIhappenedtobeoutatNorwoodoveranothercase!Iwasatthestationwhenthemessagearrived.Whatd’youthinkthemandiedof?”
“Oh,thisishardlyacaseformetotheoriseover,”saidHolmes,dryly.
“No,no.Still,wecan’tdenythatyouhitthenailontheheadsometimes.Dearme!Doorlocked,Iunderstand.Jewelsworthha