Evening star., 1925-03-22
Another Sherlock Holmes Story
By Sir Arthur Conan Doyle

He had nothing TO say for himself
He only lay and scowled. ! leaned
on Holmes arm, and together We
looked down into tho small cellar
which had been disclosed by the
secret flap It was stLl illuminated
by the candle which Evans had taken
down with him. Our eyes fell upon
"A mass OF rusted machinery, great
| rolls of paper. a litter OF bottles and
| neatly arranged upon a small table
number Of neat little bundles.
| "A printing press--a counterfeiter's
outfit" said Holmes.
| Yes, sir" said our prisoner, stag
! gering slowly to his feet and then
! sinking into the chair. The Creates
counterfeiter London ever saw.
| That's Presbury's machine. and those
| bundles on the table are two thou
sand of Presburys notes, worth
| hundred each and fit to pass any
where. Help yourselves, gentlemen.
, Call II deal and let me GO"
Holmes laughed.
| We don't do things like that, Mr.
Evans. There is no bolt hole for
you in this country. You shot this
man. Presbury, did you not?"
| Yes, sir, and got five years for
| il, though it was he who pulled on
| me. Five years-when I should have
| had a medal the size OF a soup plate
| No living man could tell a Presbury
| from a Bank Of England, ard If !
! hadn't put him out he would have
| flooded London with them. / was the
! only one in the world who knew
| where he made them. Can you won
| der that 1 wanted 10 get to the place
| And can you wonder that when J
| found this crazy boob of a bug
| hunter with the queer name squat
| ting right on the top OF it and never
! quitting his room, I had to do the
! best L could TO shift him. Maybe ]
! would have been wiser il 7 had put
! him away. 1t would have been easy
| enough, but I'm a. soft-hearted guy
| that can't begin shooting unless the
| other man has a gun also. But say,
| Mr. Holmes, what have 1 done
plant. I've not hurt this old stiff.
| Where do you get me?
/ Only attempted murder. so far as
I can see" said Holmes. But that's
not our job. They take that at the
next stage. What we wanted at
| present was just your sweet sel:-
Just give the Yard a call. Watson
It won't be entirely unexpected
! GO those were the facts about
- Killer Evans and his remarkable
| invention of the three Garridebs
| We heard later our poor old friend
| never got over the shock Of his die
| sipated dreams. When his castle
in the air fell down II buried him
| beneath the ruins. He was lsst
| heard Of at a nursing homo in Brix
| ton.
| 1t was a glad day at the YARD
! when the Presbury outfit was dis
covered, for, though they knew that
| it existed, they had never been able.
after the death of the man, to find
out where it was Evans had indeed
| done great service, and caused sew
| eral worthy c. I. D men to sleep
| the sounder, for the counterfeiter
| stands in a class by himself as
public danger. They would willing
| ly have subscribed TO that soup
plate medal Of which the criminal
had spoken, but an unappreciative
| bench took a less favorable view
and the killer returned TO those
| shades from which he had just
| emerged.
Copyright, 1923. in United States and Can
| ada by Sir Arthur Conan Doyle. Released
| through the North American Newspaper ALI
snce.)