In June of ‘95, only one of their line had reached a home port. Itwas the ROCK OF GIBRALTAR, their largest and best boat.
reference to the passenger list showed that Miss Fraser, ofAdelaide, with her maid had made the voyage in her. The boat wasnow somewhere south of the Suez Canal on her way to Australia.
Her officers were the same as in ‘95, with one exception. The firstofficer, Mr. Jack Crocker, had been made a captain and was to takecharge of their new ship, the BASS ROCK, sailing in two days’
time from Southampton. He lived at Sydenham, but he was likelyto be in that morning for instructions, if we cared to wait for him.
No, Mr. Holmes had no desire to see him, but would be glad toknow more about his record and character.
His record was magnificent. There was not an officer in thefleet to touch him. As to his character, he was reliable on duty,but a wild, desperate fellow off the deck of his ship—hot-headed,excitable, but loyal, honest, and kind-hearted. That was the pith ofthe information with which Holmes left the office of the Adelaide-Southampton company. Thence he drove to Scotland Yard, but,instead of entering, he sat in his cab with his brows drawn down,lost in profound thought. Finally he drove round to the CharingCross telegraph office, sent off a message, and then, at last, wemade for Baker Street once more.
“No, I couldn’t do it, Watson,” said he, as we reentered ourroom. “Once that warrant was made out, nothing on earth wouldsave him. Once or twice in my career I feel that I have done morereal harm by my discovery of the criminal than ever he had doneby his crime. I have learned caution now, and I had rather playtricks with the law of England than with my own conscience. Letus know a little more before we act.”
Before evening, we had a visit from Inspector Stanley Hopkins.
Things were not going very well with him.
“I believe that you are a wizard, Mr. Holmes. I really dosometimes think that you have powers that are not human. Now,how on earth could you know that the stolen silver was at thebottom of that pond?”
“I didn’t know it.”
“But you told me to examine it.”
“You got it, then?”
“Yes, I got it.”
“I am very glad if I have helped you.”
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“But you haven’t helped me. You have made the affair far moredifficult. What sort of burglars are they who steal silver and thenthrow it into the nearest pond?”
“It was certainly rather eccentric behaviour. I was merely goingon the idea that if the silver had been taken by persons who didnot want it—who merely took it for a blind, as it were—then theywould naturally be anxious to get rid of it.”
“But why should such an idea cross your mind?”
“Well, I thought it was possible. When they came out throughthe French window, there was the pond with one tempting littlehole in the ice, right in front of their noses. Could there be abetter hiding-place?”
“Ah, a hiding-place—that is better!” cried Stanley Hopkins.
“Yes, yes, I see it all now! It was early, there were folk upon theroads, they were afraid of being seen with the silver, so they sankit in the pond, intending to return for it when the coast was clear.
Excellent, Mr. Holmes—that is better than your idea of a blind.”
“Quite so, you have got an admirable theory. I have no doubtthat my own ideas were quite wild, but you must admit that theyhave ended in discovering the silver.”
“Yes, sir—yes. It was all your doing. But I have had a badsetback.”
“A setback?”
“Yes, Mr. Holmes. The Randall gang were arrested in New Yorkthis morning.”
“Dear me, Hopkins! That is certainly rather against your theorythat they committed a murder in Kent last night.”
“It is fatal, Mr. Holmes—absolutely fatal. Still, there are othergangs of three besides the Randalls, or it may be some new gang ofwhich the police have never heard.”
“Quite so, it is perfectly possible. What, are you off?”
“Yes, Mr. Holmes, there is no rest for me until I have got to thebottom of the business. I suppose you have no hint to give me?”
“I have given you one.”
“Which?”
“Well, I suggested a blind.”
“But why, Mr. Holmes, why?”
“Ah, that’s the question, of course. But I commend the idea toyour mind. You might possibly find that there was something in it.
You won’t stop for dinner? Well, good-bye, and let us know howyou get on.”
Dinner was over, and the table cleared before Holmes alluded tothe matter again. He had lit his pipe and held his slippered feet tothe cheerful blaze of the fire. Suddenly he looked at his watch.
“I expect developments, Watson.”
“When?”
1062 The Complete Sherlock Holmes
“Now—within a few minutes. I dare say you thought I actedrather badly to Stanley Hopkins just now?”
“I trust your judgment.”
“A very sensible reply, Watson. You must look at it this way:
what I know is unofficial, what he knows is official. I have theright to private judgment, but he has none. He must disclose all,or he is a traitor to his service. In a doubtful case I would not puthim in so painful a position, and so I reserve my information untilmy own mind is clear upon the matter.”
“But when will that be?”
“The time has come. You will now be present at the last sceneof a remarkable little drama.”
There was a sound upon the stairs, and our door was opened toadmit as fine a specimen of manhood as ever passed through it.
He was a very tall young man, golden-moustached, blue-eyed, withskin which had been burned by tropical suns, and a springy step,which showed that the huge frame was as active as it was strong. Heclosed the door behind him, and then he stood with clenched handsand heaving breast, choking down some overmastering emotion.
“Sit down, Captain Crocker. You got my telegram?”
Our visitor sank into an armchair and looked from one to theother of us with questioning eyes.
“I got your telegram, and I came at the hour you said. I heardthat you had been down to the office. There was no getting awayfrom you. Let’s hear the worst. What are you going to do with me?
Arrest me? Speak out, man! You can’t sit there and play with melike a cat with a mouse.”
