There was no difficulty about this. On leading Toby to the placewhere he had committed his fault, he cast about in a wide circleand finally dashed off in a fresh direction.
“We must take care that he does not now bring us to the placewhere the creasote-barrel came from,” I observed.
“I had thought of that. But you notice that he keeps on thepavement, whereas the barrel passed down the roadway. No, weare on the true scent now.”
It tended down towards the riverside, running through BelmontPlace and Prince’s Street. At the end of Broad Street it ran rightdown to the water’s edge, where there was a small wooden wharf.
Toby led us to the very edge of this and there stood whining,looking out on the dark current beyond.
“We are out of luck,” said Holmes. “They have taken to a boathere.”
Several small punts and skiffs were lying about in the water andon the edge of the wharf. We took Toby round to each in turn, butthough he sniffed earnestly he made no sign.
Close to the rude landing-stage was a small brick house, with awooden placard slung out through the second window. “MordecaiSmith” was printed across it in large letters, and, underneath,“Boats to hire by the hour or day.” A second inion abovethe door informed us that a steam launch was kept—a statementwhich was confirmed by a great pile of coke upon the jetty.
Sherlock Holmes looked slowly round, and his face assumed anominous expression.
“This looks bad,” said he. “These fellows are sharper than Iexpected. They seem to have covered their tracks. There has, Ifear, been preconcerted management here.”
He was approaching the door of the house, when it opened, anda little curly-headed lad of six came running out, followed by astoutish, red-faced woman with a large sponge in her hand.
“You come back and be washed, Jack,” she shouted. “Comeback, you young imp; for if your father comes home and finds youlike that he’ll let us hear of it.”
“Dear little chap!” said Holmes strategically. “What a rosycheekedyoung rascal! Now, Jack, is there anything you wouldlike?”
The youth pondered for a moment.
“I’d like a shillin’ ,” said he.
“Nothing you would like better?”
“I’d like two shillin’ better,” the prodigy answered, after somethought.
“Here you are, then! Catch! —A fine child, Mrs. Smith!”
“Lor’ bless you, sir, he is that, and forward. He gets a’ most toomuch for me to manage, ’specially when my man is away days at atime.”
“Away, is he?” said Holmes, in a disappointed voice. “I am sorryfor that, for I wanted to speak to Mr. Smith.”
“He’s been away since yesterday mornin’, sir, and, truth to tell,I am beginnin’ to feel frightened about him. But if it was about aboat, sir, maybe I could serve as well.”
“I wanted to hire his steam launch.”
“Why, bless you, sir, it is in the steam launch that he has gone.
That’s what puzzles me; for I know there ain’t more coals in herthan would take her to about Woolwich and back. If He’s beenaway in the barge I’d ha’ thought nothin’ ; for many a time a jobhas taken him as far as Gravesend, and then if there was muchdoin’ there he might ha’ stayed over. But what good is a steamlaunch without coals?”
“He might have bought some at a wharf down the river.”
“He might, sir, but it weren’t his way. Many a time I’ve heardhim call out at the prices they charge for a few odd bags. Besides, Idon’t like that wooden-legged man, wi’ his ugly face and outlandishtalk. What did he want always knockin’ about here for?”
“A wooden-legged man?” said Holmes with bland surprise.
“Yes, sir, a brown, monkey-faced chap that’s called more’n oncefor my old man. It was him that roused him up yesternight, and,what’s more, my man knew he was comin’, for he had steam up in thelaunch. I tell you straight, sir, I don’t feel easy in my mind about it.”
“But, my dear Mrs. Smith,” said Holmes, shrugging hisshoulders, “You are frightening yourself about nothing. How couldyou possibly tell that it was the wooden-legged man who came inthe night? I don’t quite understand how you can be so sure.”
“His voice, sir. I knew his voice, which is kind o’ thick andfoggy. He tapped at the winder—about three it would be. ‘Show aleg, matey,’ says he: ‘time to turn out guard.’ My old man woke upJim—that’s my eldest—and away they went without so much as aword to me. I could hear the wooden leg clackin’ on the stones.”
“And was this wooden-legged man alone?”
“Couldn’t say, I am sure, sir. I didn’t hear no one else.”
“I am sorry, Mrs. Smith, for I wanted a steam launch, and I haveheard good reports of the—Let me see, what is her name?”
“The Aurora, sir.”
“Ah! She’s not that old green launch with a yellow line, verybroad in the beam?”
“No, indeed. She’s as trim a little thing as any on the river. She’sbeen fresh painted, black with two red streaks.”
“Thanks. I hope that you will hear soon from Mr. Smith. I amgoing down the river, and if I should see anything of the Aurora Ishall let him know that you are uneasy. A black funnel, you say?”
“No, sir. Black with a white band.”
“Ah, of course. It was the sides which were black. Goodmorning,Mrs. Smith. There is a boatman here with a wherry,Watson. We shall take it and cross the river.
“The main thing with people of that sort,” said Holmes as wesat in the sheets of the wherry, “is never to let them think thattheir information can be of the slightest importance to you. If youdo they will instantly shut up like an oyster. If you listen to themunder protest, as it were, you are very likely to get what you want.”
“Our course now seems pretty clear,” said I.
“What would you do, then?”
“I would engage a launch and go down the river on the track ofthe Aurora.”
“My dear fellow, it would be a colossal task. She may havetouched at any wharf on either side of the stream between hereand Greenwich. Below the bridge there is a perfect labyrinthof landing-places for miles. It would take you days and days toexhaust them if you set about it alone.”
“Employ the police, then.”
“No. I shall probably call Athelney Jones in at the last moment.