Этюд в багровых тонах

Tobias Gregson shows what he can do.

           Hewavedhishand,andtheyscamperedawaydownstairslikesomanyrats,andweheardtheirshrillvoicesnextmomentinthestreet. 

           “There’smoreworktobegotoutofoneofthoselittlebeggarsthanoutofadozenoftheforce,”Holmesremarked. “Themeresightofanofficial-lookingpersonsealsmen’slips. Theseyoungsters,however,goeverywhereandheareverything. Theyareassharpasneedles,too;alltheywantisorganisation.” 

           “IsitonthisBrixtoncasethatyouareemployingthem?”Iasked. 

           “Yes;thereisapointwhichIwishtoascertain. Itismerelyamatteroftime. Hullo!wearegoingtohearsomenewsnowwithavengeance! HereisGregsoncomingdowntheroadwithbeatitudewrittenuponeveryfeatureofhisface. Boundforus,Iknow.Yes,heisstopping.Thereheis!” 

           Therewasaviolentpealatthebell,andinafewsecondsthefair-haireddetectivecameupthestairs,threestepsatatime,andburstintooursitting-room. 

           “Mydearfellow,”hecried,wringingHolmes’unresponsivehand,“congratulateme! Ihavemadethewholethingasclearasday.” 

           Ashadeofanxietyseemedtometocrossmycompanion’sexpressiveface. 

           “Doyoumeanthatyouareontherighttrack?”heasked. 

           “Therighttrack! Why,sir,wehavethemanunderlockandkey.” 

           “Andhisnameis?” 

           “ArthurCharpentier,sub-lieutenantinHerMajesty’snavy,”criedGregson,pompously,rubbinghisfathandsandinflatinghischest. 

           SherlockHolmesgaveasighofrelief,andrelaxedintoasmile. 

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