The Sign of the Four | Page 6

excuse to cover his
failure. What data could he expect from an uncleaned watch?
"Though unsatisfactory, my research has not been entirely barren," he observed, staring
up at the ceiling with dreamy, lack-lustre eyes. "Subject to your correction, I should judge
that the watch belonged to your elder brother, who inherited it from your father."
"That you gather, no doubt, from the H. W. upon the back?"
"Quite so. The W. suggests your own name. The date of the watch is nearly fifty years
back, and the initials are as old as the watch: so it was made for the last generation.
Jewelry usually descents to the eldest son, and he is most likely to have the same name as
the father. Your father has, if I remember right, been dead many years. It has, therefore,
been in the hands of your eldest brother."
"Right, so far," said I. "Anything else?"
"He was a man of untidy habits,--very untidy and careless. He was left with good
prospects, but he threw away his chances, lived for some time in poverty with occasional
short intervals of prosperity, and finally, taking to drink, he died. That is all I can gather."
I sprang from my chair and limped impatiently about the room with considerable
bitterness in my heart.
"This is unworthy of you, Holmes," I said. "I could not have believed that you would
have descended to this. You have made inquires into the history of my unhappy brother,
and you now pretend to deduce this knowledge in some fanciful way. You cannot expect
me to believe that you have read all this from his old watch! It is unkind, and, to speak
plainly, has a touch of charlatanism in it."
"My dear doctor," said he, kindly, "pray accept my apologies. Viewing the matter as an
abstract problem, I had forgotten how personal and painful a thing it might be to you. I
assure you, however, that I never even know that you had a brother until you handed me
the watch."

"Then how in the name of all that is wonderful did you get these facts? They are
absolutely correct in every particular."
"Ah, that is good luck. I could only say what was the balance of probability. I did not at
all expect to be so accurate."
"But it was not mere guess-work?"
"No, no: I never guess. It is a shocking habit,--destructive to the logical faculty. What
seems strange to you is only so because you do not follow my train of thought or observe
the small facts upon which large inferences may depend. For example, I began by stating
that your brother was careless. When you observe the lower part of that watch-case you
notice that it is not only dinted in two places, but it is cut and marked all over from the
habit of keeping other hard objects, such as coins or keys, in the same pocket. Surely it is
no great feat to assume that a man who treats a fifty-guinea watch so cavalierly must be a
careless man. Neither is it a very far-fetched inference that a man who inherits one article
of such value is pretty well provided for in other respects."
I nodded, to show that I followed his reasoning.
"It is very customary for pawnbrokers in England, when they take a watch, to scratch the
number of the ticket with a pin-point upon the inside of the case. It is more handy than a
label, as there is no risk of the number being lost or transposed. There are no less than
four such numbers visible to my lens on the inside of this case. Inference,--that your
brother was often at low water. Secondary inference,--that he had occasional bursts of
prosperity, or he could not have redeemed the pledge. Finally, I ask you to look at the
inner plate, which contains the key-hole. Look at the thousands of scratches all round the
hole,--marks where the key has slipped. What sober man's key could have scored those
grooves? But you will never see a drunkard's watch without them. He winds it at night,
and he leaves these traces of his unsteady hand. Where is the mystery in all this?"
"It is as clear as daylight," I answered. "I regret the injustice which I did you. I should
have had more faith in your marvellous faculty. May I ask whether you have any
professional inquiry on foot at present?"
"None. Hence the cocaine. I cannot live without brain-work. What else is there to live for?
Stand at the window here. Was ever such a dreary, dismal, unprofitable world? See how
the yellow fog swirls down the street and drifts across the dun- colored houses. What
could be more hopelessly prosaic and material? What is the