The Birmingham age-herald. [volume] (Birmingham, Ala.) 1902-1950, 1905-04-30

Come. Watson, comet! ne cried.
The game is afoot. Not word Into
your clothes and comet"
Ten minutes later we were both in a
cab, and rafting through the silent
streets on our way to Charing Cross
Station. The first faint winters dawn
was beginning to appear, and we could
dimly see the occasional figure of an
early workman as he passed us,
blurred and indistinct in the opales-
cent London reek. Holmes nestled in
silence into his heavy coat. and | was
glad to do the same, for the air was
most bitter and either of us had
broken our fast
1t was not until we mad consumed
some hot tea at the station, and
taken our places in the Kentish traln
that we were sufficiently thawed, he
to speak and | to listen. Holmes drew
a note from his pocket and read 1t
aloud:
Abbey Grange, Marsham, Kent,
$3.50 a.. M
My Dear Mr. Holmes-I should be
very glad of your immediate assist
ance in what promises to be a most
remarkable case. 1t is something quite
IN your line. Except for releasing the
lady 1 will see that everything Is
kept exactly as l have found 1t. but
beg you not to lose an instant, as
ii is difficult to leave Sir Eustace
there.
Yours faithfully,
STANLEY HOPKINS
Hopkins has called me in seven
times, and on each occasion his sum-
mons has been entirely justified" said
Holmes. II fancy that every one OF
his cases has found It's way into your
collection, and | must admit, Watson,
that you have some power or selec-
ton, which atones for much which /
deplore in your narratives. Your fatal
habit of looking at everything from
the point of view of a story instead of
as a scientific exercise has ruined
what might have been an instructive
and even classical series of demon
STATIONS. You slur over work of the
utmost finesse and delicacy, in order
to dwell upon sensational details
which may excite. but cannot posi-
bly, instruct, the reader
why do you not write them your
self?" I said, with some bitterness.
II will, my dear Watson. / will. At
present l am, as you know. fairly
busy, but 1 propose to devote my de-
Ginning years to the composition of q
textbook, which shall focus the whole
art of detection into one volume. Our
present research appears to be a case
of murder
You think this Sir Eustace Is dead,
then?'
II should say so. Hopkins writing
shows considerable agitation, and he
is not an emotional man. Yes, l
gather there has been violence, and
that the body is left for our inspec-
ton. A mere suicide would not have
caused him to send for me. As to the
release of the lady, 1t would appear
that she has been locked in her room
during the tragedy. We are moving
in high life, Watson, cracking paper,
e. b.. monogram, coat-ofarms, pic
turesque address. / think that friend
Hopkins win live up to his reputation.
and that we shall have an interest,"
ing morning. The crime was commit
ted before twelve last night.
How can you possibly tel?"
by an inspection of the trains, and
by reckoning the time. The local po-
lice had to be called in, they had to
communicate with Scotland Yard,
HOPKINS had to go out, and he in turn
had to send for me. All that makes
a fair nights work. Well, here we
are at Chiselhurst Station, and we
shall soon set our doubts at rest"
A drive of a couple of miles through
narrow country lanes brought us to a
park gate, which was opened for us
by an old lodge-keeper whose hag-
gard face bore the reflection of some
great disaster. The avenue ran
through noble park, between lines of
ancient elms, and ended in a low,
widespread house, pillared In front
after the fashion of Palladio. The CEN
trail part was evidently of great age,
and shrouded in IVY but the large
windows showed that modern changes
had been carried out. and one wing of
the house appeared to be entirely new.
The youthful figure and alert eager
face of Inspector Stanley hopkins
confronted us in the open doorway.
I'm very glad you have come. Mr..
Holmes. And you, too, DIR. Watson.
But. indeed, If 1 had my time over
again, L should not have troubled you,
for since the lady has come to her
self, she has given so clear an account
of the affair that there is not much
left for us to do. You remember that
Lewisham gang of burglars?"
what, the three Randalls?'
Exactly; the father and two sons.
It's their work. 1 have not doubt
of 1t. They did a job at Sydenham
fortnight ago, and were seen and de-
scribed Rather cool to do another
so soon and so near. but 1t is they,
beyond all doubt. It's a hanging mat
ter this time"
Sir Eustace Is dead, them"
Yves. his head was knocked in with
his own poker"
"Sir Eustace Brackenstall the
driver tells me-"
"Exactly-one OF the richest men in
Kent-Lady Brackenstall is in the
morning-room. Poor lady. she has
had a most dreadful experience. She
seemed half dead when 1 saw her first.
| think you had best see her. and hear
her account of the facts. Then we
will examine the dining-room to-
gether."
Lady Brackenstall was no ordinary
person. Seldom have l seen so grace
full a figure, so womanly a presence,
and so beautiful a face. She was a
blonde. golden-haired blue-eyed. and
would no doubt have had the perfect
complexion which goes with such col
curing had not her recent experience
left her drawn and haggard. Her suf-
ferings were physical as we'll as men
tai. for over one eye rose hideous,
plum-coloured swelling, which her
maid. tall austere woman was
bathing assiduously with vinegar and
water. The lady lay back exhausted
upon a couch. but her quick, observ-
ant gaze, as we entered the ROOM and
the alert expression of her beautiful
features. showed that neither her wits
nor her courage had been shaken by
her terrible experience. She was en-
veloped in a loose dressing gown Of
blue and silver. but black sequin-
covered dinner dress was hung upon
che couch beside her.
II have told you all that happened,
Mr.. Hopkins" she said. YEARLY.
could you not repeat II for me? Well.
IL YOU think ii necessary, | will tell
these gentlemen what occurred. Have
they been in the diningroom YETI"