“I was staggered, sir. I did not know what to do. Then I called at
the offices round, but none of them seemed to know anything about
it. Finally, I went to the landlord, who is an accountant living on
the ground-floor, and I asked him if he could tell me what had
become of the Red-headed League. He said that he had never heard of
any such body. Then I asked him who Mr. Duncan Ross was. He answered
that the name was new to him.
“‘Well,’ said I, ‘the gentleman at No. 4.’
“‘What, the red-headed man?’
“‘Yes.’
“‘Oh,’ said he, ‘his name was William Morris. He was a solicitor,
and was using my room as a temporary convenience until his new
premises were ready. He moved out yesterday.’
“‘Where could I find him?’
“‘Oh, at his new offices. He did tell me the address. Yes, 17 King
Edward Street, near St. Paul’s.’
“I started off, Mr. Holmes, but when I got to that address it was a
manufactory of artificial knee-caps, and no one in it had ever heard
of either Mr. William Morris or Mr. Duncan Ross.”
“And what did you do then?” asked Holmes.
“I went home to Saxe-Coburg Square, and I took the advice of my
assistant. But he could not help me in any way. He could only say
that if I waited I should hear by post. But that was not quite good
enough, Mr. Holmes. I did not wish to lose such a place without a
struggle, so, as I had heard that you were good enough to give
advice to poor folk who were in need of it, I came right away to
you.”
“And you did very wisely,” said Holmes. “Your case is an exceedingly
remarkable one, and I shall be happy to look into it. From what you
have told me I think that it is possible that graver issues hang
from it than might at first sight appear.”
“Grave enough!” said Mr. Jabez Wilson. “Why, I have lost four pound
a week.”
“As far as you are personally concerned,” remarked Holmes, “I do not
see that you have any grievance against this extraordinary league.
On the contrary, you are, as I understand, richer by some £30, to
say nothing of the minute knowledge which you have gained on every
subject which comes under the letter A. You have lost nothing by
them.”
“No, sir. But I want to find out about them, and who they are, and
what their object was in playing this prank—if it was a prank—upon
me. It was a pretty expensive joke for them, for it cost them two
and thirty pounds.”
“We shall endeavor to clear up these points for you. And, first, one
or two questions, Mr. Wilson. This assistant of yours who first
called your attention to the advertisement—how long had he been with
you?”
“About a month then.”
“How did he come?”
“In answer to an advertisement.”
“Was he the only applicant?”
“No, I had a dozen.”
“Why did you pick him?”
“Because he was handy, and would come cheap.”
“At half wages, in fact.”
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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