Приключения Шерлока Холмса
The Boscombe Valley Mystery
Andthis?Ha,ha!Whathavewehere? Tiptoes!tiptoes! Square,too,quiteunusualboots! Theycome,theygo,theycomeagain—ofcoursethatwasforthecloak. Nowwheredidtheycomefrom?" Heranupanddown,sometimeslosing,sometimesfindingthetrackuntilwewerewellwithintheedgeofthewoodandundertheshadowofagreatbeech,thelargesttreeintheneighbourhood. Holmestracedhiswaytothefarthersideofthisandlaydownoncemoreuponhisfacewithalittlecryofsatisfaction. Foralongtimeheremainedthere,turningovertheleavesanddriedsticks,gatheringupwhatseemedtometobedustintoanenvelopeandexaminingwithhislensnotonlythegroundbuteventhebarkofthetreeasfarashecouldreach. Ajaggedstonewaslyingamongthemoss,andthisalsohecarefullyexaminedandretained. Thenhefollowedapathwaythroughthewooduntilhecametothehighroad,wherealltraceswerelost.
"Ithasbeenacaseofconsiderableinterest,"heremarked,returningtohisnaturalmanner. "Ifancythatthisgrayhouseontherightmustbethelodge. IthinkthatIwillgoinandhaveawordwithMoran,andperhapswritealittlenote. Havingdonethat,wemaydrivebacktoourluncheon. Youmaywalktothecab,andIshallbewithyoupresently."
ItwasabouttenminutesbeforeweregainedourcabanddrovebackintoRoss,Holmesstillcarryingwithhimthestonewhichhehadpickedupinthewood.
"Thismayinterestyou,Lestrade,"heremarked,holdingitout. "Themurderwasdonewithit."
"Iseenomarks."
"Therearenone."