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He lived at Sydenham, but he was likely to be in that morning for instructions, if we cared to wait for him.

No, Mr. Holmes had no desire to see him, but would be glad to know more about his record and character.

His record was magnificent.

There was not an officer in the fleet to touch him.

As to his character, he was reliable on duty, but a wild, desperate fellow off the deck of his ship- hotheaded, excitable, but loyal, honest, and kindhearted.

That was the pith of the information with which Holmes left the office of the Adelaide-Southampton company.

Thence he drove to Scotland Yard, but, instead of entering, he sat in his cab with his brows drawn down, lost in profound thought.

Finally he drove round to the Charing Cross telegraph office, sent off a message, and then, at last, we made for Baker Street once more.

"No, I couldn't do it, Watson," said he, as we reentered our room.

"Once that warrant was made out, nothing on earth would save him.

Once or twice in my career I feel that I have done more real harm by my discovery of the criminal than ever he had done by his crime.

I have learned caution now, and I had rather play tricks with the law of England than with my own conscience.

Let us know a little more before we act."

Before evening, we had a visit from Inspector Stanley Hopkins. Things were not going very well with him.

"I believe that you are a wizard, Mr. Holmes. I really do sometimes think that you have powers that are not human. Now, how on earth could you know that the stolen silver was at the bottom of that pond?"

"I didn't know it."

"But you told me to examine it."

"You got it, then?"

"Yes, I got it."

"I am very glad if I have helped you."

"But you haven't helped me. You have made the affair far more difficult. What sort of burglars are they who steal silver and then throw it into the nearest pond?"

"It was certainly rather eccentric behavior. I was merely going on the idea that if the silver had been taken by persons who did not want it-who merely took it for a blind, as it were-then they would naturally be anxious to get rid of it."

"But why should such an idea cross your mind?"

"Well, I thought it was possible. When they came out through the French window, there was the pond with one tempting little hole in the ice, right in front of their noses. Could there be a better hiding-place?"

"Ah, a hiding-place-that is better!" cried Stanley Hopkins.

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