Douglas to tell us his own story."
Mrs. Douglas gave a cry of astonishment at Holmes's words. The
detectives and I must have echoed it, when we were aware of a man
who seemed to have emerged from the wall, who advanced now from
the gloom of the corner in which he had appeared. Mrs. Douglas
turned, and in an instant her arms were round him. Barker had
seized his outstretched hand.
"It's best this way, Jack," his wife repeated; "I am sure that it
is best."
"Indeed, yes, Mr. Douglas," said Sherlock Holmes, "I am sure that
you will find it best."
The man stood blinking at us with the dazed look of one who comes
from the dark into the light. It was a remarkable face, bold
gray eyes, a strong, short-clipped, grizzled moustache, a square,
projecting chin, and a humorous mouth. He took a good look at us
all, and then to my amazement he advanced to me and handed me a
bundle of paper.
"I've heard of you," said he in a voice which was not quite
English and not quite American, but was altogether mellow and
pleasing. "You are the historian of this bunch. Well, Dr.
Watson, you've never had such a story as that pass through your
hands before, and I'll lay my last dollar on that.
Pages:
117
118
119
120
121
122
123
124
125
126
127
128
129
130
131
132
133
134
135
136
137
138
139
140
141