“There’s the print of wooden-leg’s hand,” he remarked as Imounted up beside him. “You see the slight smudge of blood uponthe white plaster. What a lucky thing it is that we have had novery heavy rain since yesterday! The scent will lie upon the road inspite of their eight-and-twenty hours’start.”
I confess that I had my doubts myself when I reflected uponthe great traffic which had passed along the London road in theinterval. My fears were soon appeased, however. Toby neverhesitated or swerved, but waddled on in his peculiar rollingfashion. Clearly the pungent smell of the creasote rose high aboveall other contending scents.
“Do not imagine,” said Holmes, “that I depend for my successin this case upon the mere chance of one of these fellows havingput his foot in the chemical. I have knowledge now which wouldenable me to trace them in many different ways. This, however, isthe readiest, and, since fortune has put it into our hands, I shouldbe culpable if I neglected it. It has, however, prevented the casefrom becoming the pretty little intellectual problem which it atone time promised to be. There might have been some credit tobe gained out of it but for this too palpable clue.”
“There is credit, and to spare,” said I. “I assure you, Holmes,that I marvel at the means by which you obtain your results in thiscase even more than I did in the Jefferson Hope Murder. The thingseems to me to be deeper and more inexplicable. How, for example,could you describe with such confidence the wooden-legged man?”
“Pshaw, my dear boy! it was simplicity itself. I don’t wish to betheatrical. It is all patent and above-board. Two officers who arein command of a convict-guard learn an important secret as toburied treasure. A map is drawn for them by an Englishman namedJonathan Small. You remember that we saw the name upon thechart in Captain Morstan’s possession. He had signed it in behalfof himself and his associates—the sign of the four, as he somewhatdramatically called it. Aided by this chart, the officers—or one ofthem—gets the treasure and brings it to England, leaving, we willsuppose, some condition under which he received it unfulfilled.
Now, then, why did not Jonathan Small get the treasure himself?
The answer is obvious. The chart is dated at a time when Morstanwas brought into close association with convicts. Jonathan Smalldid not get the treasure because he and his associates werethemselves convicts and could not get away.”
“But that is mere speculation,” said I.
“It is more than that. It is the only hypothesis which coversthe facts. Let us see how it fits in with the sequel. Major Sholtoremains at peace for some years, happy in the possession of histreasure. Then he receives a letter from India which gives him agreat fright. What was that?”
“A letter to say that the men whom he had wronged had beenset free.”
“Or had escaped. That is much more likely, for he would haveknown what their term of imprisonment was. It would not havebeen a surprise to him. What does he do then? He guards himselfagainst a wooden-legged man—a white man, mark you, for hemistakes a white tradesman for him and actually fires a pistol athim. Now, only one white man’s name is on the chart. The othersare Hindoos or Mohammedans. There is no other white man.
Therefore we may say with confidence that the wooden-leggedman is identical with Jonathan Small. Does the reasoning strikeyou as being faulty?”
“No: it is clear and concise.”
“Well, now, let us put ourselves in the place of Jonathan Small.
Let us look at it from his point of view. He comes to Englandwith the double idea of regaining what he would consider tobe his rights and of having his revenge upon the man who hadwronged him. He found out where Sholto lived, and very possiblyhe established communications with someone inside the house.
There is this butler, Lal Rao, whom we have not seen. Mrs.
Bernstone gives him far from a good character. Small could notfind out, however, where the treasure was hid, for no one everknew save the major and one faithful servant who had died.
Suddenly Small learns that the major is on his deathbed. In afrenzy lest the secret of the treasure die with him, he runs thegauntlet of the guards, makes his way to the dying man’s window,and is only deterred from entering by the presence of his two sons.
Mad with hate, however, against the dead man, he enters the roomthat night, searches his private papers in the hope of discoveringsome memorandum relating to the treasure, and finally leaves amomento of his visit in the short inion upon the card. Hehad doubtless planned beforehand that, should he slay the major,he would leave some such record upon the body as a sign that itwas not a common murder but, from the point of view of the fourassociates, something in the nature of an act of justice. Whimsicaland bizarre conceits of this kind are common enough in the annalsof crime and usually afford valuable indications as to the criminal.
Do you follow all this?”
“Very clearly.”
“Now what could Jonathan Small do? He could only continueto keep a secret watch upon the efforts made to find the treasure.
Possibly he leaves England and only comes back at intervals. Thencomes the discovery of the garret, and he is instantly informedof it. We again trace the presence of some confederate in thehousehold. Jonathan, with his wooden leg, is utterly unable toreach the lofty room of Bartholomew Sholto. He takes with him,however, a rather curious associate, who gets over this difficultybut dips his naked foot into creasote, whence comes Toby, and asix-mile limp for a half-pay officer with a damaged tendo Achillis.”
“But it was the associate and not Jonathan who committed thecrime.”