Detective and mystery stories; Holmes, Sherlock (Fictitious character) -- Fiction; Private investigators -- England -- Fiction
“I’d just the one candle that was in my hand; but there was a good
light from the hall lamp through the open door. I put down the candle
and jumped for a hammer that I’d left on the mantel. At the same moment
he sprang at me. I saw the glint of a knife, and I lashed at him with
the hammer. I got him somewhere; for the knife tinkled down on the
floor. He dodged round the table as quick as an eel, and a moment later
he’d got his gun from under his coat. I heard him cock it; but I had
got hold of it before he could fire. I had it by the barrel, and we
wrestled for it all ends up for a minute or more. It was death to the
man that lost his grip.
“He never lost his grip; but he got it butt downward for a moment too
long. Maybe it was I that pulled the trigger. Maybe we just jolted it
off between us. Anyhow, he got both barrels in the face, and there I
was, staring down at all that was left of Ted Baldwin. I’d recognized
him in the township, and again when he sprang for me; but his own
mother wouldn’t recognize him as I saw him then. I’m used to rough
work; but I fairly turned sick at the sight of him.
“I was hanging on the side of the table when Barker came hurrying down.
I heard my wife coming, and I ran to the door and stopped her. It was
no sight for a woman. I promised I’d come to her soon. I said a word or
two to Barker—he took it all in at a glance—and we waited for the rest
to come along. But there was no sign of them. Then we understood that
they could hear nothing, and that all that had happened was known only
to ourselves.
“It was at that instant that the idea came to me. I was fairly dazzled
by the brilliance of it. The man’s sleeve had slipped up and there was
the branded mark of the lodge upon his forearm. See here!”
The man whom we had known as Douglas turned up his own coat and cuff to
show a brown triangle within a circle exactly like that which we had
seen upon the dead man.
“It was the sight of that which started me on it. I seemed to see it
all clear at a glance. There were his height and hair and figure, about
the same as my own. No one could swear to his face, poor devil! I
brought down this suit of clothes, and in a quarter of an hour Barker
and I had put my dressing gown on him and he lay as you found him. We
tied all his things into a bundle, and I weighted them with the only
weight I could find and put them through the window. The card he had
meant to lay upon my body was lying beside his own.
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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