women ran out in search of the absentees. They still had hopes that
the trainer had for some reason taken out the horse for early
exercise, but on ascending the knoll near the house, from which all
the neighboring moors were visible, they not only could see no signs
of the missing favorite, but they perceived something which warned
them that they were in the presence of a tragedy.
"About a quarter of a mile from the stables John Straker's overcoat
was flapping from a furze-bush. Immediately beyond there was a
bowl-shaped depression in the moor, and at the bottom of this was
found the dead body of the unfortunate trainer. His head had been
shattered by a savage blow from some heavy weapon, and he was wounded
on the thigh, where there was a long, clean cut, inflicted evidently
by some very sharp instrument. It was clear, however, that Straker
had defended himself vigorously against his assailants, for in his
right hand he held a small knife, which was clotted with blood up to
the handle, while in his left he clasped a red and black silk cravat,
which was recognized by the maid as having been worn on the preceding
evening by the stranger who had visited the stables. Hunter, on
recovering from his stupor, was also quite positive as to the
ownership of the cravat. He was equally certain that the same
stranger had, while standing at the window, drugged his curried
mutton, and so deprived the stables of their watchman. As to the
missing horse, there were abundant proofs in the mud which lay at the
bottom of the fatal hollow that he had been there at the time of the
struggle. But from that morning he has disappeared, and although a
large reward has been offered, and all the gypsies of Dartmoor are on
the alert, no news has come of him. Finally, an analysis has shown
that the remains of his supper left by the stable-lad contain an
appreciable quantity of powdered opium, while the people at the house
partook of the same dish on the same night without any ill effect.
"Those are the main facts of the case, stripped of all surmise, and
stated as baldly as possible. I shall now recapitulate what the
police have done in the matter.
"Inspector Gregory, to whom the case has been committed, is an
extremely competent officer. Were he but gifted with imagination he
might rise to great heights in his profession. On his arrival he
promptly found and arrested the man upon whom suspicion naturally
rested. There was little difficulty in finding him, for he inhabited
one of those villas which I have mentioned. His name, it appears, was
Fitzroy Simpson. He was a man of excellent birth and education, who
had squandered a fortune upon the turf, and who lived now by doing a
little quiet and genteel book-making in the sporting clubs of London.
An examination of his betting-book shows that bets to the amount of
five thousand pounds had been registered by him against the favorite.
On being arrested he volunteered that statement that he had come down
to Dartmoor in the hope of getting some information about the King's
Pyland horses, and also about Desborough, the second favorite, which
was in charge of Silas Brown at the Mapleton stables. He did not
attempt to deny that he had acted as described upon the evening
before, but declared that he had no sinister designs, and had simply
wished to obtain first-hand information. When confronted with his
cravat, he turned very pale, and was utterly unable to account for
its presence in the hand of the murdered man. His wet clothing showed
that he had been out in the storm of the night before, and his stick,
which was a Penang-lawyer weighted with lead, was just such a weapon
as might, by repeated blows, have inflicted the terrible injuries to
which the trainer had succumbed. On the other hand, there was no
wound upon his person, while the state of Straker's knife would show
that one at least of his assailants must bear his mark upon him.
There you have it all in a nutshell, Watson, and if you can give me
any light I shall be infinitely obliged to you."
I had listened with the greatest interest to the statement which
Holmes, with characteristic clearness, had laid before me. Though
most of the facts were familiar to me, I had not sufficiently
appreciated their relative importance, nor their connection to each
other.
"Is in not possible," I suggested, "that the incised wound upon
Straker may have been caused by his own knife in the convulsive
struggles which follow any brain injury?"
"It is more than possible; it is probable," said Holmes. "In that
case one of the main points in favor of the accused disappears."
"And yet," said I, "even now I fail to understand what the theory of
the police can be."
"I am afraid that whatever theory we state has very grave objections
to it," returned my companion. "The police imagine, I take it, that
this Fitzroy Simpson, having drugged the lad, and having in some way
obtained a duplicate key, opened the stable door and took out the
horse, with the intention, apparently, of kidnapping him altogether.
His bridle is missing, so that Simpson must have put this on. Then,
having left the door open behind him, he was leading the horse away
over the moor, when he was either met or overtaken by the trainer. A
row naturally ensued. Simpson beat out the trainer's brains with his
heavy stick without receiving any injury from the small knife which
Straker used in self-defence, and then the thief either led the horse
on to some secret hiding-place, or else it may have bolted during the
struggle, and be now wandering out on the moors. That is the case as
it appears to the police, and improbable as it is, all other
explanations are more improbable still. However, I shall very quickly
test the matter when I am once upon the spot, and until then I cannot
really see how we can get much further than our present position."
It was evening before we reached the little town of Tavistock, which
lies, like the boss of a shield, in the middle of the huge circle of
Dartmoor. Two gentlemen were awaiting us in the station--the one a
tall, fair man with lion-like hair and beard and curiously
penetrating light blue eyes; the other a small, alert person, very
neat and dapper, in a frock-coat and gaiters, with trim little
side-whiskers and an eye-glass. The latter was Colonel Ross, the
well-known sportsman; the other, Inspector Gregory, a man who was
rapidly making his name in the English detective service.
"I am delighted that you have come down, Mr. Holmes," said the
Colonel. "The Inspector here has done all that could possibly be
suggested, but I wish to leave no stone unturned in trying to avenge
poor Straker and in recovering my horse."
"Have there been any fresh developments?" asked Holmes.
"I am sorry to say that we have made very little progress," said the
Inspector. "We have an open carriage outside, and as you would no
doubt like to see the place before the light fails, we might talk it
over as we drive."
A minute later we were all seated in a comfortable landau, and were
rattling through the quaint old Devonshire city. Inspector Gregory
was full of his case, and poured out a stream of remarks, while
Holmes threw in an occasional question or interjection. Colonel Ross
leaned back with his arms folded and his hat tilted over his eyes,
while I listened with interest to the dialogue of the two detectives.
Gregory was formulating his theory, which was almost exactly what
Holmes had foretold in the train.
"The net is drawn pretty close round Fitzroy Simpson," he remarked,
"and I believe myself that he is our man. At the same time I
recognize that the evidence is purely circumstantial, and that some
new development may upset it."
"How about Straker's knife?"
"We have quite come to the conclusion that he wounded himself in his
fall."
"My friend Dr. Watson made that suggestion to me as we came down. If
so, it would tell against this man Simpson."
"Undoubtedly. He has neither a knife nor any sign of a wound. The
evidence against him is certainly very strong. He had a great
interest in the disappearance of the favorite. He lies under
suspicion of having poisoned the stable-boy, he was undoubtedly out
in the storm, he was armed with a heavy stick, and his cravat was
found in the dead man's hand. I really think we have enough to go
before a jury."
Holmes shook his head. "A clever counsel would tear it all to rags,"
said he. "Why should he take the horse out of the stable? If he
wished to injure it why could he not do it there? Has a duplicate key
been found in his possession? What chemist sold him the powdered
opium? Above all, where could he, a stranger to the district, hide a
horse, and such a horse as this? What is his own explanation as to
the paper which he wished the maid to give to the stable-boy?"
"He says that it was a ten-pound note. One was found in his purse.
But your other difficulties are not so formidable as they seem. He is
not a stranger to the district. He has twice lodged at Tavistock in
the summer. The opium was probably brought from London. The key,
having served its purpose, would be hurled away. The horse may be at
the bottom of one of the pits or old mines upon the moor."
"What does he say about the cravat?"
"He acknowledges that it is his, and declares that he had lost it.
But a new element has been introduced into the case which may account
for his leading the horse from the stable."
Holmes pricked up his ears.
"We have found traces which show that a party of gypsies encamped on
Monday night within a mile of the spot where the murder took place.
On Tuesday they were gone. Now, presuming that there was some
understanding between Simpson and these gypsies, might he not have
been leading the horse to them when he was overtaken, and may they
not have him now?"
"It is certainly possible."
"The moor is being scoured for these gypsies. I have also examined
every stable and out-house in Tavistock, and for a radius of ten
miles."
"There is another training-stable quite close, I understand?"
"Yes, and that is a factor which we must certainly not neglect. As
Desborough, their horse, was second in the betting, they had an
interest in the disappearance of the favorite. Silas Brown, the
trainer, is known to have had large bets upon the event, and he was
no friend to poor Straker. We have, however, examined the stables,
and there is nothing to connect him with the affair."
"And nothing to connect this man Simpson with the interests of the
Mapleton stables?"
"Nothing at all."
Holmes leaned back in the carriage, and the conversation ceased. A
few minutes later our driver pulled up at a neat little red-brick
villa with overhanging eaves which stood by the road. Some distance
off, across a paddock, lay a long gray-tiled out-building. In every
other direction the low curves of the moor, bronze-colored from the
fading ferns, stretched away to the sky-line, broken only by the
steeples of Tavistock, and by a cluster of houses away to the
westward which marked the Mapleton stables. We all sprang out with
the exception of Holmes, who continued to lean back with his eyes
fixed upon the sky in front of him, entirely absorbed in his own
thoughts. It was only when I touched his arm that he roused himself
with a violent start and stepped out of the carriage.
"Excuse me," said he, turning to Colonel Ross, who had looked at him
in some surprise. "I was day-dreaming." There was a gleam in his eyes
and a suppressed excitement in his manner which convinced me, used as
I was to his ways, that his hand was upon a clue, though I could not
imagine where he had found it.
"Perhaps you would prefer at once to go on to the scene of the crime,
Mr. Holmes?" said Gregory.
"I think that I should prefer to stay here a little and go into one
or two questions of detail. Straker was brought back here, I
presume?"
"Yes; he lies upstairs. The inquest is to-morrow."
"He has been in your service some years, Colonel Ross?"
"I have always found him an excellent servant."
"I presume that you made an inventory of what he had in this pockets
at the time of his death, Inspector?"
"I have the things themselves in the sitting-room, if you would care
to see them."
"I should be very glad." We all filed into the front room and sat
round the central table while the Inspector unlocked a square tin box
and laid a small heap of things before us. There was a box of vestas,
two inches of tallow candle, an A D P brier-root pipe, a pouch of
seal-skin with half an ounce of long-cut Cavendish, a silver watch
with a gold chain, five sovereigns in gold, an aluminum pencil-case,
a few papers, and an ivory-handled knife with a very delicate,
