“Well, Watson, what do you think of it?” asked Holmes, as wetravelled back next morning.
“I can see that you are not satisfied.”
“Oh, yes, my dear Watson, I am perfectly satisfied. At the sametime, Stanley Hopkins’s methods do not commend themselves tome. I am disappointed in Stanley Hopkins. I had hoped for betterthings from him. One should always look for a possible alternative,and provide against it. It is the first rule of criminal investigation.”
“What, then, is the alternative?”
“The line of investigation which I have myself been pursuing. Itmay give us nothing. I cannot tell. But at least I shall follow it tothe end.”
Several letters were waiting for Holmes at Baker Street. Hesnatched one of them up, opened it, and burst out into a triumphantchuckle of laughter.
“Excellent, Watson! The alternative develops. Have youtelegraph forms? Just write a couple of messages for me: ‘Sumner,Shipping Agent, Ratcliff Highway. Send three men on, to arriveten to-morrow morning. —Basil.’ That’s my name in those parts.
The other is: ‘Inspector Stanley Hopkins, 46 Lord Street, Brixton.
Come breakfast to-morrow at nine-thirty. Important. Wire ifunable to come. —Sherlock Holmes.’ There, Watson, this infernalcase has haunted me for ten days. I hereby banish it completelyfrom my presence. To-morrow, I trust that we shall hear the last ofit forever.”
Sharp at the hour named Inspector Stanley Hopkins appeared,and we sat down together to the excellent breakfast which Mrs.
Hudson had prepared. The young detective was in high spirits athis success.
“You really think that your solution must be correct?” askedHolmes.
“I could not imagine a more complete case.”
“It did not seem to me conclusive.”
“You astonish me, Mr. Holmes. What more could one ask for?”
“Does your explanation cover every point?”
“Undoubtedly. I find that young Neligan arrived at the BrambletyeHotel on the very day of the crime. He came on the pretence ofplaying golf. His room was on the ground-floor, and he could getout when he liked. That very night he went down to Woodman’sLee, saw Peter Carey at the hut, quarrelled with him, and killedhim with the harpoon. Then, horrified by what he had done, hefled out of the hut, dropping the notebook which he had broughtwith him in order to question Peter Carey about these differentsecurities. You may have observed that some of them were markedwith ticks, and the others—the great majority—were not. Thosewhich are ticked have been traced on the London market, but theothers, presumably, were still in the possession of Carey, and youngNeligan, according to his own account, was anxious to recoverthem in order to do the right thing by his father’s creditors.
After his flight he did not dare to approach the hut again for sometime, but at last he forced himself to do so in order to obtain theinformation which he needed. Surely that is all simple and obvious?”
Holmes smiled and shook his head.
“It seems to me to have only one drawback, Hopkins, andthat is that it is intrinsically impossible. Have you tried to drivea harpoon through a body? No? Tut, tut my dear sir, you mustreally pay attention to these details. My friend Watson could tellyou that I spent a whole morning in that exercise. It is no easymatter, and requires a strong and practised arm. But this blow wasdelivered with such violence that the head of the weapon sankdeep into the wall. Do you imagine that this anaemic youth wascapable of so frightful an assault? Is he the man who hobnobbedin rum and water with Black Peter in the dead of the night? Wasit his profile that was seen on the blind two nights before? No, no,Hopkins, it is another and more formidable person for whom wemust seek.”
The detective’s face had grown longer and longer duringHolmes’s speech. His hopes and his ambitions were all crumblingabout him. But he would not abandon his position without astruggle.
“You can’t deny that Neligan was present that night, Mr.
Holmes. The book will prove that. I fancy that I have evidenceenough to satisfy a jury, even if you are able to pick a hole in it.
Besides, Mr. Holmes, I have laid my hand upon my man. As to thisterrible person of yours, where is he?”
“I rather fancy that he is on the stair,” said Holmes, serenely. “Ithink, Watson, that you would do well to put that revolver whereyou can reach it.” He rose and laid a written paper upon a sidetable.
“Now we are ready,” said he.
There had been some talking in gruff voices outside, and nowMrs. Hudson opened the door to say that there were three meninquiring for Captain Basil.
“Show them in one by one,” said Holmes.
“The first who entered was a little Ribston pippin of a man,with ruddy cheeks and fluffy white side-whiskers. Holmes haddrawn a letter from his pocket.
“What name?” he asked.
“James Lancaster.”
“I am sorry, Lancaster, but the berth is full. Here is half asovereign for your trouble. Just step into this room and wait therefor a few minutes.”
The second man was a long, dried-up creature, with lank hairand sallow cheeks. His name was Hugh Pattins. He also receivedhis dismissal, his half-sovereign, and the order to wait.
The third applicant was a man of remarkable appearance. Afierce bull-dog face was framed in a tangle of hair and beard, andtwo bold, dark eyes gleamed behind the cover of thick, tufted,overhung eyebrows. He saluted and stood sailor-fashion, turninghis cap round in his hands.
“Your name?” asked Holmes.
“Patrick Cairns.”
“Harpooner?”
“Yes, sir. Twenty-six voyages.”
“Dundee, I suppose?”
“Yes, sir.”
“And ready to start with an exploring ship?”
“Yes, sir.”
“What wages?”
“Eight pounds a month.”
“Could you start at once?”
“As soon as I get my kit.”
“Have you your papers?”
“Yes, sir.” He took a sheaf of worn and greasy forms from hispocket. Holmes glanced over them and returned them.
“You are just the man I want,” said he. “Here’s the agreement onthe side-table. If you sign it the whole matter will be settled.”
The seaman lurched across the room and took up the pen.