met his fate. You see that his murderer might have torn the rest of the sheet from him or he might have taken this fragment from the murderer. It reads almost as though it was an appointment.’

Holmes took up the scrap of paper, a facsimile of which is here reproduced.

‘Presuming that it is an appointment,’ continued the Inspector, ‘it is, of course, a conceivable theory that this William Kirwan, although he had the reputation of being an honest man, may have been in league with the thief. He may have met him there, may even have helped him to break in the door, and then they may have fallen out between themselves.’

‘This writing is of extraordinary interest,’ said Holmes, who had been examining it with intense concentration. ‘These are much deeper waters than I had thought.’ He sank his head upon his hands, while the Inspector smiled at the effect which his case had had upon the famous London specialist.

‘Your last remark,’ said Holmes, presently, ‘as to the possibility of there being an understanding between the burglar and the servant, and this being a note of appointment from one to the other, is an ingenious and not entirely an impossible supposition. But this writing opens up—’ he sank his head into his hands again and remained for some minutes in the deepest thought. When he raised his face I was surprised to see that his cheek was tinged with colour, and his eyes as bright as before his illness. He sprang to his feet with all his old energy.

‘I’ll tell you what!’ said he. ‘I should like to have a quiet little glance into the details of this case. There is something in it which fascinates me extremely. If you will permit me, Colonel, I will leave my friend, Watson, and you, and I will step round with the Inspector to test the truth of one or two little fancies of mine. I will be with you again in half an hour.’

An hour and a half had elapsed before the Inspector returned alone.

‘Mr Holmes is walking up and down in the field outside,’ said he. ‘He wants us all four to go up to the house together.’

‘To Mr Cunningham’s?’

‘Yes, sir.’

‘What for?’

The Inspector shrugged his shoulders. ‘I don’t quite know, sir. Between ourselves, I think Mr Holmes has not quite got over his illness yet. He’s been behaving very queerly, and he is very much excited.’

‘I don’t think you need alarm yourself,’ said I. ‘I have usually found that there was method in his madness.’

‘Some folk might say there was madness in his method,’ muttered the Inspector. ‘But he’s all on fire to start, Colonel, so we had best go out, if you are ready.’

We found Holmes pacing up and down in the field, his chin sunk upon his breast, and his hands thrust into his trouser pockets.

‘The matter grows in interest,’ said he. ‘Watson, your country trip has been a distinct success. I have had a charming morning.’

‘You have been up to the scene of the crime, I understand?’ said the Colonel.

‘Yes; the Inspector and I have made quite a little reconnaissance together.’

‘Any success?’