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"Where did you get it?" he groaned. "I did not know. I thought I had lost it at the hotel."

"That is enough," said Hopkins, sternly.

"Whatever else you have to say you must say in court.

You will walk down with me now to the police-station.

Well, Mr. Holmes, I am very much obliged to you and to your friend for coming down to help me.

As it turns out your presence was unnecessary, and I would have brought the case to this successful issue without you; but none the less I am very grateful.

Rooms have been reserved for you at the Brambletye Hotel, so we can all walk down to the village together."

"Well, Watson, what do you think of it?" asked Holmes, as we travelled back next morning.

"I can see that you are not satisfied."

"Oh, yes, my dear Watson, I am perfectly satisfied.

At the same time Stanley Hopkins's methods do not commend themselves to me.

I am disappointed in Stanley Hopkins.

I had hoped for better things from him.

One should always look for a possible alternative and provide against it.

It is the first rule of criminal investigation."

"What, then, is the alternative?"

"The line of investigation which I have myself been pursuing. It may give us nothing. I cannot tell. But at least I shall follow it to the end."

Several letters were waiting for Holmes at Baker Street. He snatched one of them up, opened it, and burst out into a triumphant chuckle of laughter.

"Excellent, Watson.

The alternative develops.

Have you telegraph forms? Just write a couple of messages for me: 'Sumner, Shipping Agent, Ratcliff Highway.

Send three men on, to arrive ten to-morrow morning.

- Basil.' That's my name in those parts.

The other is: 'Inspector Stanley Hopkins, 46, Lord Street, Brixton.

Come breakfast to-morrow at nine-thirty.

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