the long run. I am going out now!
To the police?
No; I shall be my own police. When I have spun the web they may take
the flies, but not before.
All day I was engaged in my professional work, and it was late in the
evening before I returned to Baker Street. Sherlock Holmes had not come
back yet. It was nearly ten o clock before he entered, looking pale and
worn. He walked up to the sideboard, and tearing a piece from the loaf
he devoured it voraciously, washing it down with a long draught of
water.
You are hungry, I remarked.
Starving. It had escaped my memory. I have had nothing since
breakfast.
Nothing?
Not a bite. I had no time to think of it.
And how have you succeeded?
Well.
You have a clue?
I have them in the hollow of my hand. Young Openshaw shall not long
remain unavenged. Why, Watson, let us put their own devilish trade-mark
upon them. It is well thought of!
What do you mean?
He took an orange from the cupboard, and tearing it to pieces he
squeezed out the pips upon the table. Of these he took five and thrust
them into an envelope. On the inside of the flap he wrote S. H. for J.
O. Then he sealed it and addressed it to Captain James Calhoun,
Barque _Lone Star_, Savannah, Georgia.
118