Chapter VII The Episode of the Barrel

regoes,anyhow.” Therewasascufflingoffeet,andthelanternbegantocomesteadilydownthesideofthewall.Thenwithalightspringhecameontothebarrel,andfromtheretotheearth. “Itwaseasytofollowhim,”hesaid,drawingonhisstockingsandboots.“Tileswereloosenedthewholewayalong,andinhishurryhehaddroppedthis.Itconfirmsmydiagnosis,asyoudoctorsexpressit.” Theobjectwhichhehelduptomewasasmallpocketorpouchwovenoutofcolouredgrassesandwithafewtawdrybeadsstrungroundit.Inshapeandsizeitwasnotunlikeacigarette-case.Insidewerehalfadozenspinesofdarkwood,sharpatoneendandroundedattheother,likethatwhichhadstruckBartholomewSholto. “Theyarehellishthings,”saidhe.“Lookoutthatyoudon’tprickyourself.I’mdelightedtohavethem,forthechancesarethattheyareallhehas.Thereisthelessfearofyouormefindingoneinourskinbeforelong.IwouldsoonerfaceaMartinibullet,myself.Areyougameforasix-miletrudge,Watson?” “Certainly,”Ianswered. “Yourlegwillstandit?” “Oh,yes.” “Hereyouare,doggy!GoodoldToby!Smellit,Toby,smellit!”Hepushedthecreasotehandkerchiefunderthedog’snose,whilethecreaturestoodwithitsfluffylegsseparated,andwithamostcomicalcocktoitshead,likeaconnoisseursniffingthebouquetofafamousvintage.Holmesthenthrewthehandkerchieftoadistance,fastenedastoutcordtothemongrel’scollar,andledhimtothefootofthewater-barrel.Thecreatureinstantlybrokeintoasuccessionofhigh,tremulousyelps,and,withhisnoseontheground,andhistailintheair,patteredoffuponthetrailatapacewhichstrainedhisleashandkeptusatthetopofourspeed. Theeasthadbeengraduallywhitening,andwecouldnowseesomedistanceinthecoldgreylight.Thesquare,massivehouse,withitsblack,emptywindowsandhigh,barewalls,toweredup,sadandforlorn,behindus.Ourcourseledrightacrossthegrounds,inandoutamongthetrenchesandpitswithwhichtheywerescarredandintersected.Thewholeplace,withitsscattereddirt-heapsandill-grownshrubs,hadablighted,ill-omenedlookwhichharmonizedwiththeblacktragedywhichhungoverit. OnreachingtheboundarywallTobyranalong,whiningeagerly,underneathitsshadow,andstoppedfinallyinacornerscreenedbyayoungbeech.Wherethetwowallsjoined,severalbrickshadbeenloosened,andthecrevicesleftwereworndownandroundeduponthelowerside,asthoughtheyhadfrequentlybeenusedasaladder.Holmesclamberedup,and,takingthedogfromme,hedroppeditoverupontheotherside. “There’stheprintofwooden-leg’shand,”heremarked,asImountedupbesidehim.“Youseetheslightsmudgeofblooduponthewhiteplaster.Whataluckythingitisthatwehavehadnoveryheavyrainsinceyesterday!Thescentwilllieupontheroadinspiteoftheireight-and-twentyhours’start.” IconfessthatIhadmydoubtsmyselfwhenIreflecteduponthegreattrafficwhichhadpassedalongtheLondonroadintheinterval.Myfearsweresoonappeased,however.Tobyneverhesitatedorswerved,butwaddledoninhispeculiarrollingfashion.Clearly,thepungentsmellofthecreasoterosehighaboveallothercontendingscents. “Donotimagine,”saidHolmes,“thatIdependformysuccessinthiscaseuponthemerechanceofoneofthesefellowshavingputhisfootinthechemical.Ihaveknowledgenowwhichwouldenablemetotracetheminmanydifferentways.This,however,isthereadiestand,sincefortunehasputitintoourhands,IshouldbeculpableifIneglectedit.Ithas,however,preventedthecasefrombecomingtheprettylittleintellectualproblemwhichitatonetimepromisedtobe.Theremighthavebeensomecredittobegainedoutofit,butforthistoopalpableclue.” “Thereiscredit,andtospare,”saidI.“Iassureyou,Holmes,thatImarvelatthemeansbywhichyouobtainyourresultsinthiscase,evenmorethanIdidintheJeffersonHopeMurder.Thethingseemstometobedeeperandmoreinexplicable.How,forexample,couldyoudescribewithsuchconfidencethewooden-leggedman?” “Pshaw,mydearboy!itwassimplicityitself.Idon’twishtobetheatrical.Itisallpatentandabove-board.Twoofficerswhoareincommandofaconvict-guardlearnanimportantsecretastoburiedtreasure.AmapisdrawnforthembyanEnglishmannamedJonathanSmall.YourememberthatwesawthenameuponthechartinCaptainMorstan’spossessi