“It’s been out three hours,” said Holmes; “started at half-pastsix, and here it is back again. That gives a radius of ten or twelvemiles, and he does it once, or sometimes twice, a day.”
“No unusual thing for a doctor in practice.”
“But Armstrong is not really a doctor in practice. He is a lecturerand a consultant, but he does not care for general practice, whichdistracts him from his literary work. Why, then, does he makethese long journeys, which must be exceedingly irksome to him,and who is it that he visits?”
“His coachman——”
“My dear Watson, can you doubt that it was to him that I firstapplied? I do not know whether it came from his own innatedepravity or from the promptings of his master, but he was rudeenough to set a dog at me. Neither dog nor man liked the lookof my stick, however, and the matter fell through. Relations werestrained after that, and further inquiries out of the question. Allthat I have learned I got from a friendly native in the yard ofour own inn. It was he who told me of the doctor’s habits and ofhis daily journey. At that instant, to give point to his words, thecarriage came round to the door.”
“Could you not follow it?”
“Excellent, Watson! You are scintillating this evening. The ideadid cross my mind. There is, as you may have observed, a bicycleshop next to our inn. Into this I rushed, engaged a bicycle, andwas able to get started before the carriage was quite out of sight.
I rapidly overtook it, and then, keeping at a discreet distance of ahundred yards or so, I followed its lights until we were clear of thetown. We had got well out on the country road, when a somewhatmortifying incident occurred. The carriage stopped, the doctoralighted, walked swiftly back to where I had also halted, and toldme in an excellent sardonic fashion that he feared the road wasnarrow, and that he hoped his carriage did not impede the passageof my bicycle. Nothing could have been more admirable than hisway of putting it. I at once rode past the carriage, and, keepingto the main road, I went on for a few miles, and then halted in aconvenient place to see if the carriage passed. There was no signof it, however, and so it became evident that it had turned downone of several side roads which I had observed. I rode back, butagain saw nothing of the carriage, and now, as you perceive, it hasreturned after me. Of course, I had at the outset no particularreason to connect these journeys with the disappearance ofGodfrey Staunton, and was only inclined to investigate themon the general grounds that everything which concerns Dr.
Armstrong is at present of interest to us, but, now that I find hekeeps so keen a look-out upon anyone who may follow him onthese excursions, the affair appears more important, and I shallnot be satisfied until I have made the matter clear.”
“We can follow him to-morrow.”
“Can we? It is not so easy as you seem to think. You are notfamiliar with Cambridgeshire scenery, are you? It does not lenditself to concealment. All this country that I passed over to-nightis as flat and clean as the palm of your hand, and the man we arefollowing is no fool, as he very clearly showed to-night. I havewired to Overton to let us know any fresh London developmentsat this address, and in the meantime we can only concentrate ourattention upon Dr. Armstrong, whose name the obliging younglady at the office allowed me to read upon the counterfoil ofStaunton’s urgent message. He knows where the young man is—tothat I’ll swear, and if he knows, then it must be our own fault if wecannot manage to know also. At present it must be admitted thatthe odd trick is in his possession, and, as you are aware, Watson, itis not my habit to leave the game in that condition.”
And yet the next day brought us no nearer to the solution ofthe mystery. A note was handed in after breakfast, which Holmespassed across to me with a smile.
Sir [it ran]:
I can assure you that you are wasting your time in dogging mymovements. I have, as you discovered last night, a window at theback of my brougham, and if you desire a twenty-mile ride whichwill lead you to the spot from which you started, you have only tofollow me. Meanwhile, I can inform you that no spying upon mecan in any way help Mr. Godfrey Staunton, and I am convinced thatthe best service you can do to that gentleman is to return at once toLondon and to report to your employer that you are unable to tracehim. Your time in Cambridge will certainly be wasted.
Yours faithfully,
LESLIE ARMSTRONG.
“An outspoken, honest antagonist is the doctor,” said Holmes.
“Well, well, he excites my curiosity, and I must really know beforeI leave him.”
“His carriage is at his door now,” said I. “There he is steppinginto it. I saw him glance up at our window as he did so. Suppose Itry my luck upon the bicycle?”
“No, no, my dear Watson! With all respect for your natural acumen,I do not think that you are quite a match for the worthy doctor.
I think that possibly I can attain our end by some independentexplorations of my own. I am afraid that I must leave you to yourown devices, as the appearance of two inquiring strangers upon asleepy countryside might excite more gossip than I care for. No doubtyou will find some sights to amuse you in this venerable city, and Ihope to bring back a more favourable report to you before evening.”
Once more, however, my friend was destined to be disappointed.
He came back at night weary and unsuccessful.
“I have had a blank day, Watson. Having got the doctor’s generaldirection, I spent the day in visiting all the villages upon that sideof Cambridge, and comparing notes with publicans and other localnews agencies. I have covered some ground. Chesterton, Histon,Waterbeach, and Oakington have each been explored, and haveeach proved disappointing. The daily appearance of a brougham andpair could hardly have been overlooked in such Sleepy Hollows. Thedoctor has scored once more. Is there a telegram for me?”
“Yes, I opened it. Here it is:
“Ask for Pompey from Jeremy Dixon, Trinity College.”
“I don’t understand it.”