Chapter VI Sherlock Holmes Gives a Demonstration

ntoaloudcrowofdelight. “Wearecertainlyinluck,”saidhe.“Weoughttohaveverylittletroublenow.NumberOnehashadthemisfortunetotreadinthecreosote.Youcanseetheoutlineoftheedgeofhissmallfoothereatthesideofthisevil-smellingmess.Thecarboyhasbeencracked,Yousee,andthestuffhasleakedout.” “Whatthen?”Iasked. “Why,wehavegothim,that’sall,”saidhe.“Iknowadogthatwouldfollowthatscenttotheworld’send.Ifapackcantrackatrailedherringacrossashire,howfarcanaspecially-trainedhoundfollowsopungentasmellasthis?Itsoundslikeasumintheruleofthree.Theanswershouldgiveusthe—Buthalloa!herearetheaccreditedrepresentativesofthelaw.” Heavystepsandtheclamourofloudvoiceswereaudiblefrombelow,andthehalldoorshutwithaloudcrash. “Beforetheycome,”saidHolmes,“justputyourhandhereonthispoorfellow’sarm,andhereonhisleg.Whatdoyoufeel?” “Themusclesareashardasaboard,”Ianswered. “Quiteso.Theyareinastateofextremecontraction,farexceedingtheusualrigormortis.Coupledwiththisdistortionoftheface,thisHippocraticsmile,or‘risussardonicus,’astheoldwriterscalledit,whatconclusionwoulditsuggesttoyourmind?” “Deathfromsomepowerfulvegetablealkaloid,”Ianswered,—“somestrychnine-likesubstancewhichwouldproducetetanus.” “ThatwastheideawhichoccurredtometheinstantIsawthedrawnmusclesoftheface.OngettingintotheroomIatoncelookedforthemeansbywhichthepoisonhadenteredthesystem.Asyousaw,Idiscoveredathornwhichhadbeendrivenorshotwithnogreatforceintothescalp.Youobservethatthepartstruckwasthatwhichwouldbeturnedtowardstheholeintheceilingifthemanwereerectinhischair.Nowexaminethethorn.” Itookitupgingerlyandhelditinthelightofthelantern.Itwaslong,sharp,andblack,withaglazedlooknearthepointasthoughsomegummysubstancehaddrieduponit.Thebluntendhadbeentrimmedandroundedoffwithaknife. “IsthatanEnglishthorn?”heasked. “No,itcertainlyisnot.” “Withallthesedatayoushouldbeabletodrawsomejustinference.Butherearetheregularssotheauxiliaryforcesmaybeataretreat.” Ashespoke,thestepswhichhadbeencomingnearersoundedloudlyonthepassage,andaverystout,portlymaninagreysuitstrodeheavilyintotheroom.Hewasred-faced,burlyandplethoric,withapairofverysmalltwinklingeyeswhichlookedkeenlyoutfrombetweenswollenandpuffypouches.Hewascloselyfollowedbyaninspectorinuniform,andbythestillpalpitatingThaddeusSholto. “Here’sabusiness!”hecried,inamuffled,huskyvoice.“Here’saprettybusiness!Butwhoareallthese?Why,thehouseseemstobeasfullasarabbit-warren!” “Ithinkyoumustrecollectme,Mr.AthelneyJones,”saidHolmes,quietly. “Why,ofcourseIdo!”hewheezed.“It’sMr.SherlockHolmes,thetheorist.Rememberyou!I’llneverforgethowyoulecturedusalloncausesandinferencesandeffectsintheBishopgatejewelcase.It’strueyousetusontherighttrackbutyou’llownnowthatitwasmorebygoodluckthangoodguidance.” “Itwasapieceofverysimplereasoning.” “Oh,come,now,come!Neverbeashamedtoownup.Butwhatisa