IhadcalleduponmyfriendSherlockHolmesuponthesecondmorningafterChristmas,withtheintentionofwishinghimthecomplimentsoftheseason.Hewaslounginguponthesofainapurpledressing-gown,apipe-rackwithinhisreachupontheright,andapileofcrumpledmorningpapers,evidentlynewlystudied,nearathand.Besidethecouchwasawoodenchair,andontheangleofthebackhungaveryseedyanddisreputablehard-felthat,muchtheworseforwear,andcrackedinseveralplaces.Alensandaforcepslyingupontheseatofthechairsuggestedthatthehathadbeensuspendedinthismannerforthepurposeofexamination.
“Youareengaged,”saidI“perhapsIinterruptyou.”
“Notatall.IamgladtohaveafriendwithwhomIcandiscussmyresults.Thematterisaperfectlytrivialone”—hejerkedhisthumbinthedirectionoftheoldhat—“buttherearepointsinconnectionwithitwhicharenotentirelydevoidofinterestandevenofinstruction.”
Iseatedmyselfinhisarmchairandwarmedmyhandsbeforehiscracklingfire,forasharpfrosthadsetin,andthewindowswerethickwiththeicecrystals.“Isuppose,”Iremarked,“that,homelyasitlooks,thisthinghassomedeadlystorylinkedontoit—thatitisthecluewhichwillguideyouinthesolutionofsomemysteryandthepunishmentofsomecrime.”
“No,no.Nocrime,”saidSherlockHolmes,laughing.“Onlyoneofthosewhimsicallittleincidentswhichwillhappenwhenyouhavefourmillionhumanbeingsalljostlingeachotherwithinthespaceofafewsquaremiles.Amidtheactionandreactionofsodenseaswarmofhumanity,everypossiblecombinationofeventsmaybeexpectedtotakeplace,andmanyalittleproblemwillbepresentedwhichmaybestrikingandbizarrewithoutbeingcriminal.Wehavealreadyhadexperienceofsuch.”
“Somuchso,”Iremarked,“thatofthelastsixcaseswhichIhaveaddedtomynotes,threehavebeenentirelyfreeofanylegalcrime.”
“Precisely.YoualludetomyattempttorecovertheIreneAdlerpapers,tothesingularcaseofMissMarySutherland,andtotheadventureofthemanwiththetwistedlip.Well,Ihavenodoubtthatthissmallmatterwillfallintothesameinnocentcategory.YouknowPeterson,thecommissionaire?”
“Yes.”
“Itistohimthatthistrophybelongs.”
“Itishishat.”
“No,no,hefoundit.Itsownerisunknown.Ibegthatyouwilllookuponitnotasabatteredbillycockbutasanintellectualproblem.And,first,astohowitcamehere.ItarriveduponChristmasmorning,incompanywithagoodfatgoose,whichis,Ihavenodoubt,roastingatthismomentinfrontofPeterson’sfire.Thefactsarethese:aboutfouro’clockonChristmasmorning,Peterson,who,asyouknow,isaveryhonestfellow,wasreturningfromsomesmalljollificationandwasmakinghiswayhomewarddownTottenhamCourtRoad.Infrontofhimhesaw,inthegaslight,atallishman,walkingwithaslightstagger,andcarryingawhitegooseslungoverhisshoulder.AshereachedthecornerofGoodgeStreet,arowbrokeoutbetweenthisstrangerandalittleknotofroughs.Oneofthelatterknockedofftheman’shat,onwhichheraisedhissticktodefendhimselfand,swingingitoverhishead,smashedtheshopwindowbehindhim.Petersonhadrushedforwardtoprotectthestrangerfromhisassailantsbuttheman,shockedathavingbrokenthewindow,andseeinganofficial-lookingpersoninuniformrushingtowardshim,droppedhisgoose,tooktohisheels,andvanishedamidthelabyrinthofsmallstreetswhichlieatthebackofTottenhamCourtRoad.TheroughshadalsofledattheappearanceofPeterson,sothathewasleftinpossessionofthefieldofbattle,andalsoofthespoilsofvictoryintheshapeofthisbatteredhatandamostunimpeachableChristmasgoose.”
“Whichsurelyherestoredtotheirowner?”
“Mydearfellow,thereliestheproblem.Itistruethat‘ForMrs.HenryBaker’wasprinteduponasmallcardwhichwastiedtothebird’sleftleg,anditisalsotruethattheinitials‘H.B.’arelegibleupontheliningofthishat,butastherearesomethousandsofBakers,andsomehundredsofHenryBakersinthiscityof