The Boscombe Valley Mystery

           Wewereseatedatbreakfastonemorning,mywifeandI,whenthemaidbroughtinatelegram.ItwasfromSherlockHolmesandraninthisway: 

           HAVEYOUACOUPLEOFDAYSTOSPARE? HAVEJUSTBEENWIREDFORFROMTHEWESTOFENGLANDINCONNECTIONWITHBOSCOMBEVALLEYTRAGEDY. SHALLBEGLADIFYOUWILLCOMEWITHME. AIRANDSCENERYPERFECT. LEAVEPADDINGTONBYTHE11:15. 

           "Whatdoyousay,dear?"saidmywife,lookingacrossatme."Willyougo?" 

           "Ireallydon’tknowwhattosay. Ihaveafairlylonglistatpresent." 

           "Oh,Anstrutherwoulddoyourworkforyou. Youhavebeenlookingalittlepalelately. Ithinkthatthechangewoulddoyougood,andyouarealwayssointerestedinMr.SherlockHolmes’scases." 

           "IshouldbeungratefulifIwerenot,seeingwhatIgainedthroughoneofthem,"Ianswered."ButifIamtogo,Imustpackatonce,forIhaveonlyhalfanhour." 

           MyexperienceofcamplifeinAfghanistanhadatleasthadtheeffectofmakingmeapromptandreadytraveller. Mywantswerefewandsimple,sothatinlessthanthetimestatedIwasinacabwithmyvalise,rattlingawaytoPaddingtonStation. SherlockHolmeswaspacingupanddowntheplatform,histall,gauntfiguremadeevengaunterandtallerbyhislonggraytravelling-cloakandclose-fittingclothcap. 

           "Itisreallyverygoodofyoutocome,Watson,"saidhe. "Itmakesaconsiderabledifferencetome,havingsomeonewithmeonwhomIcanthoroughlyrely.