“It was the first link in my chain of reasoning. Powdered opiumis by no means tasteless. The flavor is not disagreeable, but it isperceptible. Were it mixed with any ordinary dish the eater wouldundoubtedly detect it, and would probably eat no more. A currywas exactly the medium which would disguise this taste. By nopossible supposition could this stranger, Fitzroy Simpson, havecaused curry to be served in the trainer’s family that night, and itis surely too monstrous a coincidence to suppose that he happenedto come along with powdered opium upon the very night when adish happened to be served which would disguise the flavor. Thatis unthinkable. Therefore Simpson becomes eliminated from thecase, and our attention centers upon Straker and his wife, the onlytwo people who could have chosen curried mutton for supperthat night. The opium was added after the dish was set aside forthe stable-boy, for the others had the same for supper with no illeffects. Which of them, then, had access to that dish without themaid seeing them?
“Before deciding that question I had grasped the significance ofthe silence of the dog, for one true inference invariably suggestsothers. The Simpson incident had shown me that a dog was keptin the stables, and yet, though some one had been in and hadfetched out a horse, he had not barked enough to arouse the twolads in the loft. Obviously the midnight visitor was some onewhom the dog knew well.
“I was already convinced, or almost convinced, that John Strakerwent down to the stables in the dead of the night and took outSilver Blaze. For what purpose? For a dishonest one, obviously, orwhy should he drug his own stable-boy? And yet I was at a loss toknow why. There have been cases before now where trainers havemade sure of great sums of money by laying against their ownhorses, through agents, and then preventing them from winningby fraud. Sometimes it is a pulling jockey. Sometimes it is somesurer and subtler means. What was it here? I hoped that thecontents of his pockets might help me to form a conclusion.
“And they did so. You cannot have forgotten the singular knifewhich was found in the dead man’s hand, a knife which certainlyno sane man would choose for a weapon. It was, as Dr. Watsontold us, a form of knife which is used for the most delicateoperations known in surgery. And it was to be used for a delicateoperation that night. You must know, with your wide experience ofturf matters, Colonel Ross, that it is possible to make a slight nickupon the tendons of a horse’s ham, and to do it subcutaneously, soas to leave absolutely no trace. A horse so treated would develop aslight lameness, which would be put down to a strain in exercise ora touch of rheumatism, but never to foul play.”
“Villain! Scoundrel!” cried the Colonel.
“We have here the explanation of why John Straker wished totake the horse out on to the moor. So spirited a creature would havecertainly roused the soundest of sleepers when it felt the prick ofthe knife. It was absolutely necessary to do it in the open air.”
“I have been blind!” cried the Colonel. “Of course that was whyhe needed the candle, and struck the match.”
“Undoubtedly. But in examining his belongings I was fortunateenough to discover not only the method of the crime, but evenits motives. As a man of the world, Colonel, you know that mendo not carry other people’s bills about in their pockets. Wehave most of us quite enough to do to settle our own. I at onceconcluded that Straker was leading a double life, and keeping asecond establishment. The nature of the bill showed that therewas a lady in the case, and one who had expensive tastes. Liberalas you are with your servants, one can hardly expect that they canbuy twenty-guinea walking dresses for their ladies. I questionedMrs. Straker as to the dress without her knowing it, and havingsatisfied myself that it had never reached her, I made a note ofthe milliner’s address, and felt that by calling there with Straker’sphotograph I could easily dispose of the mythical Derbyshire.
“From that time on all was plain. Straker had led out the horseto a hollow where his light would be invisible. Simpson in hisflight had dropped his cravat, and Straker had picked it up—withsome idea, perhaps, that he might use it in securing the horse’s leg.
Once in the hollow, he had got behind the horse and had strucka light; but the creature frightened at the sudden glare, and withthe strange instinct of animals feeling that some mischief wasintended, had lashed out, and the steel shoe had struck Strakerfull on the forehead. He had already, in spite of the rain, taken offhis overcoat in order to do his delicate task, and so, as he fell, hisknife gashed his thigh. Do I make it clear?”
“Wonderful!” cried the Colonel. “Wonderful! You might havebeen there!”
“My final shot was, I confess a very long one. It struck methat so astute a man as Straker would not undertake this delicatetendon-nicking without a little practice. What could he practiceon? My eyes fell upon the sheep, and I asked a question which,rather to my surprise, showed that my surmise was correct.
“When I returned to London I called upon the milliner, whohad recognized Straker as an excellent customer of the name ofDerbyshire, who had a very dashing wife, with a strong partialityfor expensive dresses. I have no doubt that this woman hadplunged him over head and ears in debt, and so led him into thismiserable plot.”
“You have explained all but one thing,” cried the colonel. “Wherewas the horse?”
“Ah, it bolted, and was cared for by one of your neighbors. Wemust have an amnesty in that direction, I think. This is ClaphamJunction, if I am not mistaken, and we shall be in Victoria inless than ten minutes. If you care to smoke a cigar in our rooms,Colonel, I shall be happy to give you any other details which mightinterest you.”
The Yellow Face