“I prefer to look on,” said Holmes, and when I had likewise declined to play, the Prince and the Princess and Princess Barbara sat down at the table. Prince Alexander also declined to play, on the ground that he was too busy. “As you are not going to play, Prince Alexander,” said Holmes, “perhaps you will help me presently to conduct my preliminary investigations.” “Certainly,” said the young prince. “Nobody can possibly have stolen the skat-book, in any case,” said the Princess. “I’m not so sure,” said Prince Alexander, “if I left my money in it, as I think I did.” Holmes took no notice of this remark, but after he had watched three games in perfect silence he suddenly addressed the Princess: “You said you had several bad characters in the village; is there any one whom you would particularly suspect? Who, for instance, is the worst character?” “There are several in the village,” said the Princess; “and one of the clerks in our office--what we call the ‘Kontora’--an educated man, is suspected of carrying on social revolutionary propaganda, but there is no evidence against him. They say, too, that he steals--only not saucepans.” “Yes, but that’s all rubbish,” said the young Prince. “He’s an honest, hard-working man.” “Why don’t you send him away?” asked Holmes. “Oh, he would burn our house!” said the Princess, laughing. “Besides, he’s quite harmless.” “Most interesting,” said Holmes. “And can I see this gentleman?” “Oh, certainly,” said the Princess. “Alexander will take you to the Kontora.” “Let us go to the other house,” said the young Prince to Holmes, “and you can begin your investigations. It will be great fun.” “May Watson come too?” asked Holmes. “Of course,” said the young Prince; “the investigations would have no value without Dr. Watson’s presence.” “Before we do anything else,” said Holmes, “will you show me the kitchen, and we will solve the question of the saucepans?” The kitchen was in a building by itself, separate from both houses, and situated on an elevation beyond the further stone house, in which were our rooms and that of the young Prince. We went there, and the white-frocked Parisian cook explained in precise phrases exactly what had disappeared, ending up his narrative with an exclamation of disgust. Sherlock Holmes was soon on all fours beneath the kitchen window. He examined the wall, the window-sill, and the ground, with a strong magnifying glass; then, like a hound following a strong scent, he walked swiftly from the kitchen into the garden, and stopped before a heap of snow beside a clump of trees. “If we could have a spade”--a spade was soon brought, and Holmes, after a few vigorous strokes, revealed to the astonished gaze of the Prince, the cook, and a crowd of moujiks, four large kitchen saucepans. “Now,” said Holmes to the young Prince, “I will continue the investigations, if you permit it, in your room.” And we went into the stone house together.