PART I.
6. CHAPTER VI. TOBIAS GREGSON SHOWS WHAT HE CAN DO.
(continued)
"No, sir, we hain't," said one of the youths.
"I hardly expected you would. You must keep on until you do.
Here are your wages." He handed each of them a shilling.
"Now, off you go, and come back with a better report next time."
He waved his hand, and they scampered away downstairs like so
many rats, and we heard their shrill voices next moment in
the street.
"There's more work to be got out of one of those little
beggars than out of a dozen of the force," Holmes remarked.
"The mere sight of an official-looking person seals men's
lips. These youngsters, however, go everywhere and hear
everything. They are as sharp as needles, too; all they want
is organisation."
"Is it on this Brixton case that you are employing them?" I asked.
"Yes; there is a point which I wish to ascertain. It is
merely a matter of time. Hullo! we are going to hear some
news now with a vengeance! Here is Gregson coming down the
road with beatitude written upon every feature of his face.
Bound for us, I know. Yes, he is stopping. There he is!"
There was a violent peal at the bell, and in a few seconds
the fair-haired detective came up the stairs, three steps
at a time, and burst into our sitting-room.
"My dear fellow," he cried, wringing Holmes' unresponsive hand,
"congratulate me! I have made the whole thing as clear as day."
A shade of anxiety seemed to me to cross my companion's
expressive face.
"Do you mean that you are on the right track?" he asked.
"The right track! Why, sir, we have the man under lock and key."
"And his name is?"
"Arthur Charpentier, sub-lieutenant in Her Majesty's navy,"
cried Gregson, pompously, rubbing his fat hands and inflating
his chest.
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