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Page 7
I had listened with the greatest interest to the
statement which Holmes, with characteristic clearness,
had laid before me. Though most of the facts were
familiar to me, I had not sufficiently appreciated
their relative importance, nor their connection to
each other.
"Is it not possible," I suggested, "that the incised
wound upon Straker may have been caused by his own
knife in the convulsive struggles which follow any
brain injury?"
"It is more than possible; it is probable," said
Holmes. "In that case one of the main points in favor
of the accused disappears."
"And yet," said I, "even now I fail to understand what
the theory of the police can be."
"I am afraid that whatever theory we state has very
grave objections to it," returned my companion. "The
police imagine, I take it, that this Fitzroy Simpson,
having drugged the lad, and having in some way
obtained a duplicate key, opened the stable door and
took out the horse, with the intention, apparently, of
kidnapping him altogether. His bridle is missing, so
that Simpson must have put this on. Then, having left
the door open behind him, he was leading the horse
away over the moor, when he was either met or
overtaken by the trainer. A row naturally ensued.
Simpson beat out the trainer's brains with his heavy
stick without receiving any injury from the small
knife which Straker used in self-defence, and then the
thief either led the horse on to some secret
hiding-place, or else it may have bolted during the
struggle, and be now wandering out on the moors. That
is the case as it appears to the police, and
improbable as it is, all other explanations are more
improbable still. However, I shall very quickly test
the matter when I am once upon the spot, and until
then I cannot really see how we can get much further
than our present position."
It was evening before we reached the little town of
Tavistock, which lies, like the boss of a shield, in
the middle of the huge circle of Dartmoor. Two
gentlemen were awaiting us in the station--the one a
tall, fair man with lion-like hair and beard and
curiously penetrating light blue eyes; the other a
small, alert person, very neat and dapper, in a
frock-coat and gaiters, with trim little side-whiskers
and an eye-glass. The latter was Colonel Ross, the
well-known sportsman; the other, Inspector Gregory, a
man who was rapidly making his name in the English
detective service.
"I am delighted that you have come down, Mr. Holmes,"
said the Colonel. "The Inspector here has done all
that could possibly be suggested, but I wish to leave
no stone unturned in trying to avenge poor Straker and
in recovering my horse."
"Have there been any fresh developments?" asked
Holmes.
"I am sorry to say that we have made very little
progress," said the Inspector. "We have an open
carriage outside, and as you would no doubt like to
see the place before the light fails, we might talk it
over as we drive."
A minute later we were all seated in a comfortable
landau, and were rattling through the quaint old
Devonshire city. Inspector Gregory was full of his
case, and poured out a stream of remarks, while Holmes
threw in an occasional question or interjection.
Colonel Ross leaned back with his arms folded and his
hat tilted over his eyes, while I listened with
interest to the dialogue of the two detectives.
Gregory was formulating his theory, which was almost
exactly what Holmes had foretold in the train.
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