VIII. The Baker Street Irregulars

           “Whatnow?”Iasked.“Tobyhaslosthischaracterforinfallibility.”

           “Heactedaccordingtohislights,”saidHolmes,liftinghimdownfromthebarrelandwalkinghimoutofthetimber-yard.“IfyouconsiderhowmuchcreasoteiscartedaboutLondoninoneday,itisnogreatwonderthatourtrailshouldhavebeencrossed.Itismuchusednow,especiallyfortheseasoningofwood.PoorTobyisnottoblame.”

           “Wemustgetonthemainscentagain,Isuppose.”

           “Yes.And,fortunately,wehavenodistancetogo.EvidentlywhatpuzzledthedogatthecornerofKnight’sPlacewasthatthereweretwodifferenttrailsrunninginoppositedirections.Wetookthewrongone.Itonlyremainstofollowtheother.”

           Therewasnodifficultyaboutthis.OnleadingTobytotheplacewherehehadcommittedhisfault,hecastaboutinawidecircleandfinallydashedoffinafreshdirection.

           “Wemusttakecarethathedoesnotnowbringustotheplacewherethecreasote-barrelcamefrom,”Iobserved.

           “Ihadthoughtofthat.Butyounoticethathekeepsonthepavement,whereasthebarrelpasseddowntheroadway.No,weareonthetruescentnow.”

           Ittendeddowntowardstheriver-side,runningthroughBelmontPlaceandPrince’sStreet.AttheendofBroadStreetitranrightdowntothewater’sedge,wheretherewasasmallwoodenwharf.Tobyledustotheveryedgeofthis,andtherestoodwhining,lookingoutonthedarkcurrentbeyond.

           “Weareoutofluck,”saidHolmes.“Theyhavetakentoaboathere.”Severalsmallpuntsandskiffswerelyingaboutinthewaterandontheedgeofthewharf.