“You don’t mean to say，” I cried， in amazement， “that thattottering， feeble old woman was able to get out of the cab while itwas in motion， without either you or the driver seeing her？”
“Old woman be damned！” said Sherlock Holmes， sharply. “Wewere the old women to be so taken in. It must have been a youngman， and an active one， too， besides being an incomparable actor.
The get-up was inimitable. He saw that he was followed， no doubt，and used this means of giving me the slip. It shows that the manwe are after is not as lonely as I imagined he was， but has friendswho are ready to risk something for him. Now， Doctor， you arelooking done-up. Take my advice and turn in.”
I was certainly feeling very weary， so I obeyed his injunction. Ileft Holmes seated in front of the smouldering fire， and long intothe watches of the night I heard the low melancholy wailings ofhis violin， and knew that he was still pondering over the strangeproblem which he had set himself to unravel.
Tobias Gregson Shows What He Can Do
THE papers next day were full of the “Brixton Mystery，” asthey termed it. Each had a long account of the affair， and somehad leaders upon it in addition. There was some informationin them which was new to me. I still retain in my scrapbooknumerous clippings and extracts bearing upon the case. Here is acondensation of a few of them：
The Daily Telegraph remarked that in the history of crime therehad seldom been a tragedy which presented stranger features. TheGerman name of the victim， the absence of all other motive， andthe sinister inscription on the wall， all pointed to its perpetrationby political refugees and revolutionists. The Socialists had manybranches in America， and the deceased had， no doubt， infringedtheir unwritten laws， and been tracked down by them. Afteralluding airily to the Vehmgericht， aqua tofana， Carbonari， theMarchioness de Brinvilliers， the Darwinian theory， the principlesof Malthus， and the Ratcliff Highway murders， the articleconcluded by admonishing the Government and advocating acloser watch over foreigners in England.
The Standard commented upon the fact that lawless outragesof the sort usually occurred under a Liberal Administration.
They arose from the unsettling of the minds of the masses， andthe consequent weakening of all authority. The deceased wasan American gentleman who had been residing for some weeksin the Metropolis. He had stayed at the boarding-house ofMadame Charpentier， in Torquay Terrace， Camberwell. He wasaccompanied in his travels by his private secretary， Mr. JosephStangerson. The two bade adieu to their landlady upon Tuesday，the 4th inst.， and departed to Euston Station with the avowedintention of catching the Liverpool express. They were afterwardsseen together upon the platform. Nothing more is known ofthem until Mr. Drebber’s body was， as recorded， discovered in anempty house in the Brixton Road， many miles from Euston. Howhe came there， or how he met his fate， are questions which arestill involved in mystery. Nothing is known of the whereaboutsof Stangerson. We are glad to learn that Mr. Lestrade and Mr.
Gregson， of Scotland Yard， are both engaged upon the case， andit is confidently anticipated that these well-known officers willspeedily throw light upon the matter.
The Daily News observed that there was no doubt as tothe crime being a political one. The despotism and hatred ofLiberalism which animated the Continental Governments hadhad the effect of driving to our shores a number of men whomight have made excellent citizens were they not soured by therecollection of all that they had undergone. Among these menthere was a stringent code of honour， any infringement of whichwas punished by death. Every effort should be made to findthe secretary， Stangerson， and to ascertain some particulars ofthe habits of the deceased. A great step had been gained by thediscovery of the address of the house at which he had boarded—aresult which was entirely due to the acuteness and energy of Mr.
Gregson of Scotland Yard.
Sherlock Holmes and I read these notices over togetherat breakfast， and they appeared to afford him considerableamusement.
“I told you that， whatever happened， Lestrade and Gregsonwould be sure to score.”
“That depends on how it turns out.”
“Oh， bless you， it doesn’t matter in the least. If the man iscaught， it will be on account of their exertions； if he escapes， itwill be in spite of their exertions. It’s heads I win and tails youlose. Whatever they do， they will have followers. ‘Un sot trouvetoujours un plus sot qui l’admire.’ ”
“What on earth is this？” I cried， for at this moment therecame the pattering of many steps in the hall and on the stairs，accompanied by audible expressions of disgust upon the part ofour landlady.
“It’s the Baker Street division of the detective police force，”
said my companion gravely； and as he spoke there rushed into theroom half a dozen of the dirtiest and most ragged street Arabsthat ever I clapped eyes on.
“ ’tention！” cried Holmes， in a sharp tone， and the six dirty littlescoundrels stood in a line like so many disreputable statuettes. “Infuture you shall send up Wiggins alone to report， and the rest ofyou must wait in the street. Have you found it， Wiggins？”
“No， sir， we hain’t，” said one of the youths.
“I hardly expected you would. You must keep on until you do.
Here are your wages.” He handed each of them a shilling. “Now，off you go， and come back with a better report next time.”
He waved his hand， and they scampered away downstairs likeso many rats， and we heard their shrill voices next moment in thestreet.
“There’s more work to be got out of one of those little beggarsthan out of a dozen of the force，” Holmes remarked. “Themere sight of an official-looking person seals men’s lips. Theseyoungsters， however， go everywhere and hear everything. They areas sharp as needles， too； all they want is organisation.”
“Is it on this Brixton case that you are employing them？” Iasked.