The Hound of the Baskervilles | Page 3

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The Hound of the Baskervilles by Sir Arthur Conan Doyle




Chapter 1
Mr. Sherlock Holmes

Mr. Sherlock Holmes, who was usually very late in the mornings, save upon those not
infrequent occasions when he was up all night, was seated at the breakfast table. I stood
upon the hearth-rug and picked up the stick which our visitor had left behind him the
night before. It was a fine, thick piece of wood, bulbous-headed, of the sort which is
known as a "Penang lawyer." Just under the head was a broad silver band nearly an inch
across. "To James Mortimer, M.R.C.S., from his friends of the C.C.H.," was engraved
upon it, with the date "1884." It was just such a stick as the old-fashioned family
practitioner used to carry--dignified, solid, and reassuring.
"Well, Watson, what do you make of it?"
Holmes was sitting with his back to me, and I had given him no sign of my occupation.
"How did you know what I was doing? I believe you have eyes in the back of your head."
"I have, at least, a well-polished, silver-plated coffee-pot in front of me," said he. "But,
tell me, Watson, what do you make of our visitor's stick? Since we have been so
unfortunate as to miss him and have no notion of his errand, this accidental souvenir
becomes of importance. Let me hear you reconstruct the man by an examination of it."

"I think," said I, following as far as I could the methods of my companion, "that Dr.
Mortimer is a