The Memoirs of Sherlock Holmes | Page 7

had such a dress, sir," answered the lady.
"Ah, that quite settles it," said Holmes. And with an apology he
followed the Inspector outside. A short walk across the moor took us to
the hollow in which the body had been found. At the brink of it was the
furze-bush upon which the coat had been hung.
"There was no wind that night, I understand," said Holmes.

"None; but very heavy rain."
"In that case the overcoat was not blown against the furze-bush, but
placed there."
"Yes, it was laid across the bush."
"You fill me with interest, I perceive that the ground has been trampled
up a good deal. No doubt many feet have been here since Monday
night."
"A piece of matting has been laid here at the side, and we have all stood
upon that."
"Excellent."
"In this bag I have one of the boots which Straker wore, one of Fitzroy
Simpson's shoes, and a cast horseshoe of Silver Blaze."
"My dear Inspector, you surpass yourself!" Holmes took the bag, and,
descending into the hollow, he pushed the matting into a more central
position. Then stretching himself upon his face and leaning his chin
upon his hands, he made a careful study of the trampled mud in front of
him. "Hullo!" said he, suddenly. "What's this?" It was a wax vesta half
burned, which was so coated with mud that it looked at first like a little
chip of wood.
"I cannot think how I came to overlook it," said the Inspector, with an
expression of annoyance.
"It was invisible, buried in the mud. I only saw it because I was looking
for it."
"What! You expected to find it?"
"I thought it not unlikely."
He took the boots from the bag, and compared the impressions of each
of them with marks upon the ground. Then he clambered up to the rim

of the hollow, and crawled about among the ferns and bushes.
"I am afraid that there are no more tracks," said the Inspector. "I have
examined the ground very carefully for a hundred yards in each
direction."
"Indeed!" said Holmes, rising. "I should not have the impertinence to
do it again after what you say. But I should like to take a little walk
over the moor before it grows dark, that I may know my ground
to-morrow, and I think that I shall put this horseshoe into my pocket for
luck."
Colonel Ross, who had shown some signs of impatience at my
companion's quiet and systematic method of work, glanced at his watch.
"I wish you would come back with me, Inspector," said he. "There are
several points on which I should like your advice, and especially as to
whether we do not owe it to the public to remove our horse's name
from the entries for the Cup."
"Certainly not," cried Holmes, with decision. "I should let the name
stand."
The Colonel bowed. "I am very glad to have had your opinion, sir,"
said he. "You will find us at poor Straker's house when you have
finished your walk, and we can drive together into Tavistock."
He turned back with the Inspector, while Holmes and I walked slowly
across the moor. The sun was beginning to sink behind the stables of
Mapleton, and the long, sloping plain in front of us was tinged with
gold, deepening into rich, ruddy browns where the faded ferns and
brambles caught the evening light. But the glories of the landscape
were all wasted upon my companion, who was sunk in the deepest
thought.
"It's this way, Watson," said he at last. "We may leave the question of
who killed John Straker for the instant, and confine ourselves to finding
out what has become of the horse. Now, supposing that he broke away
during or after the tragedy, where could he have gone to? The horse is a

very gregarious creature. If left to himself his instincts would have been
either to return to King's Pyland or go over to Mapleton. Why should
he run wild upon the moor? He would surely have been seen by now.
And why should gypsies kidnap him? These people always clear out
when they hear of trouble, for they do not wish to be pestered by the
police. They could not hope to sell such a horse. They would run a
great risk and gain nothing by taking him. Surely that is clear."
"Where is he, then?"
"I have already said that he must have gone to King's Pyland or to
Mapleton. He is not at King's Pyland. Therefore he is at Mapleton. Let
us take that as a working hypothesis and see what it leads us to. This
part of the moor, as the Inspector remarked, is very hard and dry. But it
falls