Tell it your
own way; but there are the facts, and you can't miss the public
so long as you have those. I've been cooped up two days, and
I've spent the daylight hours--as much daylight as I could get in
that rat trap--in putting the thing into words. You're welcome
to them--you and your public. There's the story of the Valley of
Fear."
"That's the past, Mr. Douglas," said Sherlock Holmes quietly.
"What we desire now is to hear your story of the present."
"You'll have it, sir," said Douglas. "May I smoke as I talk?
Well, thank you, Mr. Holmes. You're a smoker yourself, if I
remember right, and you'll guess what it is to be sitting for two
days with tobacco in your pocket and afraid that the smell will
give you away." He leaned against the mantelpiece and sucked at
the cigar which Holmes had handed him. "I've heard of you, Mr.
Holmes. I never guessed that I should meet you. But before you
are through with that," he nodded at my papers, "you will say
I've brought you something fresh."
Inspector MacDonald had been staring at the newcomer with the
greatest amazement. "Well, this fairly beats me!" he cried at
last.
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