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Speaker 1 (00:00):
The Adventure of the Blue Carbuncle by Sir Arthur Kirnan Doyle.
I had called upon my friend Sherlock Holmes upon the
second morning after Christmas, with the intention of wishing him
the compliments of the season. He was lounging upon the
sofa in a purple dressing gown, a pipe rack within
his reach upon the right, and a pile of crumpled
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morning papers, evidently newly studied near at hand. Beside the
couch was a wooden chair, and on the angle of
the back hung a very seedy and disruptible, hard felt hat,
much the worse for wear and cracked in several places.
A lens and a forceps lying upon the seat of
the chair suggested that the hat had been suspended in
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this manner for the purpose of examination. II you are engaged,
said I, perhaps I interrupt you not at all. I
am glad to have a friend with whom I can
discuss my results. The matter is a perfectly trivial one.
He jerked his thumb in the direction of the old hat.
But there are points in connection with it which are
not entirely devoid of interest and even of instruction. I
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seated myself in his arm chair and warmed my hands
before his crackling fire, for a sharp frost had set in,
and the windows were thick with the ice crystals, I suppose.
I remarked that homely as it looks, this thing has
some deadly story linked on to it, that it is
the clue which will guide you in the solution of
some mystery and the punishment of some crime. No, no, no,
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no crime, said Sherlock Holmes, laughing, Only one of those
whimsical little incidents which will happen when you have four
million human beings all jostling each other within the space
of a few square miles. Amid the action and reaction
of so dense a swarm of humanity, every possible combination
of events may be expected to take place, and many
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a little problem will be presented, which may be striking
and bizarre without being criminal. We have already had experience
of such, so much so I remarked that at the
last six cases which I've added to my notes, three
have been entirely free of any legal crime. Precisely, you
allude to my attempt to recover the Irene Adler play papers,
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to the singular case of Miss Mary Sutherland and to
the advente of the man with the twisted lip. Well,
I have no doubt that this more and of the
same innocent category. Are you know Peterson the Commissionaire. Yes,
it is to him that this trophy belongs. It is
his hat. No, no, no, he found it. Its owner
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is unknown. I beg that you will look upon it
not as a battered billycock, but as an intellectual problem.
And first, as to how it came here. It arrived
upon Christmas morning in company with a good fat goose,
which is I have no doubt roasting at this moment
in front of Peterson's far the facts of these. About
four o'clock on Christmas morning, Peterson, whose you know is
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a very honest fellow, was returned from some small jollification
and was making his way homeward down Tottenham Court Road.
In front of him he saw in the gaslight a
Tallish man walking with a slight stagger and carrying a
white goose slung over his shoulder. As he reached the
corner of Googe Street, a round broke out between this
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stranger and a little knot of ruffs. One of the
latter knocked off the man's hat, on which he raised
his stick to defend himself, and swinging over his head,
smashed the shop window behind him. Peterson had rushed forward
to protect the stranger from his assailants, but the man,
shocked at heavy broken the window, and, seeing an official
looking person in uniform rushing towards him, dropped his goose,
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took to his heels, and vanished amid the labyrinth of
small streets which lie at the back of Tottenham Court Road.
The ruffs had also fed at the appearance of Peterson,
so that he was left to possession of the field
of battle and also of the spars of victory in
the shape of this battered hat and a most unimpeachable
chrispus goose, which surely he restored to their owner, My
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dear fellny, there lies the problem. It is true that
for missus Henry Baker was printed upon a small cart
which was tied to the bird's left leg, and it
is also true that the initials h B are legible
upon the lining of this hat. But as there are
some thousands of Bakers and some hundreds of Henry Bakers
in this city of ours, it is not easy to
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restore lost property to any one of them. What then
did Peterson do? He brought round both hat and goose
to me on Christmas morning, knowing that even the smallest
problems out of interest to me. The goose we retained
until this morning, when there were signs that, in spite
of the slight frosted would be well, that it should
be eaten without unnecessary delay. Its finder has carried it off,
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therefore to fulfill the ultimate destiny of a goose, while
I continued to retain the hat of the unknown gentleman
who lost his Christmas dinner? Did he not advertise? No? Then?
What clue could he have as to his identity? Only
as much as we can deduce from his hat precisely?
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But you are joking? What can you gather from this old,
battered felt Here is my lens, you know my methods.
What can you gather yourself as to the individuality of
the man who has worn this article? I took the
tattered object in my hands and turned it over rather ruefully.
It was a very ordinary black hat, of the usual
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round shape, hard and much the worse for wear. The
lining had been of red silk, but was a good
deal discolored. There was no maker's name, bat as helm,
as had remarked, The initials h B were scrawled upon
one side it pierced in the brim for a hat securer,
but the elastic was missing. For the rest. It was cracked,
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exceedingly dusty, and spotted in several places, although there seemed
to have been some attempt to hide the discolored patches
by smearing them with ink. I can see nothing, said I,
handing it back to my friend. On the contrary, rotson,
you can see everything. You fail, however, to reason from
what you see. You are too timid in drawing your inferences. Then, pray,
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tell me what it is that you can infer from
this hat. He picked it up and gazed at it
in the peculiar introspective fashion which was characteristic of him.
It is perhaps less suggestive than it might have been,
he remarked. And yet there are a few inferences which
are very distinct, and a few others which represents at
least a strong balance of probability. That the man was
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highly intellectual, as of course obvious upon the face of it,
and also that he was fairly well to do within
the last three years. Although he has now fallen upon
evil days, he had foresight but has less now than formerly,
pointed to a moral retrogression, which, when taken with the
decline of his fortunes, seems to indicate some evil influence,
probably drink at work upon him. This may also account
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for the obvious fact that his wife has ceased to
love him, My dear Holmes, He has, however, retained some
degree of self respect, he continued, disregarding my remonstrance. He
is a man who leads a sedentary life, goes out
a little, is out of training, entirely, is middle aged,
has grizzled hair, which he has had cut within the
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last few days, and which he anoints with lime cream.
These are the more patent facts which are to be
deduced from his hat. Oh also, by the way that
it is extremely improbable that he has gas laid on
in his house. You are certainly joking homes, though not
in the least. It is possible that even now, when
I give you these results, you are able to see
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how they are attained. I have no doubt that I
am very stupid, but I must confess that I am
unable to follow you. For example, how did you deduce
this man was intellectual? Answer? Holmes clapped the hat upon
his head. It came right over the forehead and settled
upon the bridge of his nose. Oh, it is a
question of cubic capacity, said he. A man with so
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large a brain must have something in it the decline
of his fortunes. Then this hat is three years old.
These flat brims, curled at the edge, came in. Then
it is a hat of the very best quantity. Look
at the band of ribbed silk and the excellent lining.
If this man could afford to buy so expensive a
hat three years ago and has had no hat since then,
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he has assuredly gone down in the world. Well, that
is clear enough, certainly, But how about the foresight and
the moral retrogression? Shallock Combs laughed. Here is the foresight,
said he, putting his finger upon the little disc and
loop of the hat. Secura. They are never sold upon hats.
If this man ordered one, it is a sign of
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a certain amount of foresight, since he went out of
his way to take this precaution against the wind. But
since we see that he has broken the elastic and
has not troubled to replace it, it is obvious that
he has less foresight now than formerly, Which is a
distinct proof of a weakening nature. On the other hand,
he has endeavored to conceal some of these stains upon
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the felt by daubing them with ink, which is a
sign that he has not entirely lost his self. For respect,
may your reasoning is certainly plausible. The further points that
he is middle aged, that his hair is grizzled, that
he has been recently cut, and that he uses lime cream,
are all to be gathered from a close examination of
the lower part of the lining. The lens discloses a
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large number of hair ends, clean cut by the says
of the barber. They all appear to be adhesive, and
there is a distinct odor of lime cream. This dust
you will observe is not the gritty gray dust of
the street, but the fluffy brown dust of the house,
showing that it has been hung up indoors most of
the time. On the marks of moisture upon the inside
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are proof positive that the wearer prospered very freely, and
could therefore hardly be in the best of training. But
his wife, you said that she had ceased to love him. Oh,
this has not been brushed for weeks. When I see you,
my dear Botson with a week's accumulation of dust upon
your hat. And when your wife allows you to go
out in such a state, I shall fear that you
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also have been unfortunate enough to lose your wife's affection.
But he might be a bachelor. Nay, he was bringing
home the goose is a peace offering to his wife.
Remember the card upon the bird's leg. H you have
an answer to everything. But how on earth do deduce
that the gas is not laid on in his house?
One tallou's stain, or even two might come by chance,
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But when I see no less than five, I think
that there can be little doubt that the individual must
be brought into frequent contact with burning tallow walks upstairs
at night, probably with his hat in one hand and
a guttering candle in the other. Anyhow, he never got
tallow stains from a gas jet. Are you satisfied? Well,
it is very ingenious, said I, laughing. But since, as
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you said just now, there has been no crime committed
and no harm done save the loss of a goose,
all this seems to be rather a waste of energy.
Sherlock Holmes had opened his mouth to reply when the
door flew open. And Peterson, the Commissionaire, rushed into the
apartment with flushed to cheeks and the face of a
man who is dazed with astonishment. The grise, mister Holmes,
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the gu sir, He gasped, Eh, what of it? Then?
Has it returned to life? Flapped off through the kitchen window.
Holmes twisted himself round upon the sofa to get a
fairer view of the man's excited face. See here, sir,
see what my wife found in its crop. He held
out his hand and displayed upon the center of the
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palm a brilliantly scintillating blue stone, rather smaller than a
bean in size, but of such purity and radiance that
it twinkled like an electric point in the dark collar
of his hand. Slocombe sat up with a whistle. By jove,
Peterson said he this is treasure trove. Indeed, I suppose
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you know what you've got? A Darmond, sir, A precious stone.
It cuts into glasses over putty. It's more than a
pressure stone. It is the pressure stone, not the Countess
of Morca's blue carbuncle. I ejaculated precisely, so I ought
to know its size and shape. Seeing that I have
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read the advertisement upon about it in the Times every
day recently. It is absolutely unique, and its value can
only be conjectured. But the reward offered of one thousand
pounds is certainly not within a twentieth part of the
market price a thousand pounds, Great Lord of Mercy, the
Commissioner plumped down into a chair and stared from one
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to the other of us. That is the reward, And
I have reason to know that there are sentimental considerations
in the background which would induce the Countess to part
with half our fortune as ye could but recover the
gem it was lost, if I remember right at the
Hotel Cosmopolitan, I remarked a pressers, sir. On December the
twenty second, Just five days ago, John Horner, a plumber,
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was accused of having abstracted him from the lady's duel case.
The evidence against him was so strong that the case
has been referred to the Assizes. I have some account
of the matter here. I believe he rummaged to meet
his newspapers, glancing over the dates, until at last he
smoothed one out doubly over and read the following paragraph
Hotel Cosmopolitan Duwe robbery. John Horner twenty six Plumber was
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brought up upon the charge of having, upon the twenty
second instance, abstracted from the duel case of the Countess
of Morcar the valuable gem, then as the Blue Carbuncle.
James Ryder, upper attendant of the hotel, gave his evidence
to the effect that he had shown Horner up to
the dressing room of the Countess of Morcar upon the
day of the robbery, in order that he might solder
the second bar of the grate, which was loose. He
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had remained with Horner some little time, but had finally
being called away. On returning, he found that Horner disappeared,
that the bureau had been forced open, and that the
small Morocco casket, in which, as it afterwards transpired, the
Countess was accustomed to keep a duel, was lying empty
upon the dressing table. Ryder instantly gave the alarm, and
Horner was arrested the same evening, but the stone could
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not be found either upon his person or in his rooms.
Catherine Cusack made to the Countess deposed to having heard
Rider's cry of dismay on discovering the robbery, and to
having rushed into the room where she found matters as
described by the last witness. Inspector Bradstreet, b Division gave
evidence to the rest of Horner, who struggled frantically and
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protested his innocence in the strongest terms. Evidence of a
previous conviction for robbery having been given against the prisoner.
The magistrate refused to deal summarily with the offense, but
referred it to the assizes. Horner, who had shown signs
of intense emotion during the braci meanings, fainted away at
the conclusion and was carried out of the court. Hum
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so much for the police court, said Holmes, thoughtfully, tossing
aside the paper. The question for us now to solve
is the sequence of events leading from a rifled jewel
case at one end to the crop of a goose
in Tottenham Court Road at the other. You see, Watson,
our little deductions have suddenly assumed a much more important
and a less innocent aspect. Here is the stone. The
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stone came from the goose, and the goose came from
mister Henry Baker, the gentleman with the bad hat, and
all the other characteristics with which I have bored you.
So now we must set ourselves very seriously to finding
this gentleman and ascertaining what part he has played in
this little mystery. To do this, we must try the
simplest means first, and these lie undoubtedly in an advertisement
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in all the evening papers. If this fails, I shall
have a recourse to other methods. What would you say,
give me a pencil and that slip of paper now
then found at the corner of Good Street, a goose
and a black felt hat. Mister Henry Baker can have
the same by applying at six thirty this evening at
two two one B Baker Street. That is clear and concise. Very,
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But but where will he see it? Well? He is
sure to keep an eye on the papers, since to
a poor man the loss was a heavy one. He
was clearly so scared by his mischance in breaking the
window and by the approach of Peterson, that he thought
of nothing but flight. But since then he must have
bitterly regretted the impulse which caused him to drop his bird. Oh,
then again, the introduction of his name will cause him
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to see it, for everyone who knows him will direct
his attention to it. Here you are, Peterson, run down
to the advertising agency and have this put in the
evening papers in which sir oh in the Globe Star,
pal MoU, Saint James's Evening New Standard Echo, and any
others that occur to you. Ah very well, sir, and
this stone. Ah yes, sir, I shall keep the stone,
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thank you. And I say, petersn't just buy a goose
on your way back and leave it here with me,
for we must have one to give to this gentleman
in place of the one which your family is now dividing.
When the commissioner had gone, Holmes took up the stone
and held it against the light. It's a bonny thing,
said he. Just see how it glints and sparkles. Of course,
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it is a nucleus and focus of crime. Every good
stone is. They are the devil's pet baits. In the
larger and older jewels, every facet may stand for a
bloody deed. This stone is not yet twenty years old.
It was fine in the banks of the Amoy River
in southern China, and is remarkable in having every characteristic
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of the carbuncle, save that it is blue in shade
instead of ruby red. In spite of its youth, it
is already a sinister history. There have been two murders
of vitriol, throwing, a suicide, and several robberies brought about
for the sake of this forty grain weight of crystallized charcoal.
Who would think that so pretre toy would be a
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purveyor to the gallows and the prison. I'll lock it
up in my strong box now and drop a line
to the Countess to say that we have it. Do
you think that this man Horner is innocent? I cannot tell. Well,
then do you imagine that this other one, Henry Baker,
had anything to do with the matter. It is I
think much more likely that Henry Baker is an absolutely
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innocent man who had no idea that the bird which
he was carrying was of considerably more value than if
it were made of solid gold. That, however, I shall
determine by a very simple test, if we have an
answer to our advertisements, and you could do nothing until
then nothing. In that case, I shall continue my professional round.
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But I shall come back in the evening of the
eye you have mentioned, for I should like to see
the solution of so tangled a business. Very glad to
see you, I dine at seven. There is a woodcock
I believe, by the way, in view of recent occurrences,
perhaps I ought to ask missus Hudson to examine its crop.
I have been delayed case, and it was a little
after half past six when I found myself in Baker
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Street once more. As I approached the house, I saw
a tall man in a Scotch bonnet with a coat
which was buttoned up to his chin, waiting outside in
the bright semicircle which was thrown from the fan light.
Just as I arrived, the door was opened, and we've
shone up together to Towolmes's room. Ah, mister Henry Baker,
I believe, said he rising from his arm chair and
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greeting his visitor with the easy air of geniality which
he could so readily assume. Pray, take this chair by
the far, mister Baker. It is a cold night, and
I observe that your circulation is more adapted for summer
than for winter. Ah Watson, you've just come at the
right time. Is that your hat, mister Baker? A year, sir,
that is indoubtedly my hat. He was a large man
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with rounded shoulders, a massive head, and a broad, intelligent
face sloping down to a pointed beard. Of grizzled brown,
a touch of red, and nose and cheeks with a
slight tremor. His extended hand recalled Holmes's surmise as to
his habits. His rusty black frock coat was buttoned right
up in front, with the collar turned up, and his
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lank wrists protruded from his sleeves without a sign of
cuff or shirt. He spoke in a slow, staccato fashion,
choosing his words with care, and gave the impression generally
of a man of learning and letters who had had
ill usage at the hands of fortune. We have retained
these things for some days, said Holmes, because we expected
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to see a verticimum from you giving your address. I
at a loss to know one hour why you did
not advertise. Our visitor gave a rather shamefaced laugh. Shillings
have not been so plentiful with me as they once were,
he remarked. I had no doubt that the gang of
ruffs who assorted me had carried off both my hat
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and the bird. I did not care to spend more
money in a hopeless attempt at recovering them. In utter
by the way about the bird, we were compelled to
eat it to eat it, our visitor half rose from
his chair in his excitement. Yes, it would have been
no use to any one, have you not done so.
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But I presume that this other goose upon the sideboard,
which is about the same weight and perfectly fresh, will
answer your purpose equally well. Oh certainly certainly, answered mister Baker,
with a sigh of relief. Of course we still have
the feathers, legs, crop and so on of your own bird.
If you wish. The man burst into a hearty laugh,
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they might be useful to me as relics of my venture,
said he. But beyond that, I can hardly see what
use the disject our member of my late acquaintance, are
going to be to me. No, sir, I think that
with your compilation, I will confine my attentions to the
excellant bird which I perceive upon the sideboard shell at
Holmes glanced sharply across at me with a slight shrug
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of his shoulders. That is your hat, then, and there
your bird, said he. By the way, would it bore
you to tell me where you got the other one from?
I am somewhat of a foul fancy, and I have
seldom seen a better grown goose. Certainly, sir, said Baker,
who had risen and tucked his newly gained property under
his arm. There are a few of us who frequent
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the Alpha Inn near the museum. We are to be
found in the museum itself during the day. You understand.
This year, our good host, Windygate by name, instituted a
goose club, by which, on consideration of some few pence
every week, we were each to receive a bird at Christmas.
My pence were duly paid, and the rest is familiar
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to you. I am much indebted to you, sir, for
a Scotch bonnet is fitted neither to my years nor
my gravity. With a comical pomposity of manner, he bowed
solemnly to both of us, and strode off upon his way.
So much for mister Henry, Baker, said Holmes, when he
had the door behind him. It is quite certain that
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he knows nothing whatever about the matter. Are you hungry, Watson,
and not particularly? Then? I suggest that we turn our
dinner into our supper and follow up this too while
it is still hot, and by all means it was
a bitter night. So we drew on our ulsters and
wrapped cravats about our throats. Outside, the stars were shining
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coldly in a cloudless sky, and the breath of the
passers by blew out into smoke, like so many pistol shots.
Off The falls rang out crisply and loudly as we
swung through the Doctor's Quarter, Wimple Street, Harley Street, and
so through Wigmore Street into Oxford Street. In a quarter
of an hour we were in Bloomsbury at the Alpha Inn,
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which is a small public house at the corner of
one of the streets which runs down into Holborn. Holmes
pushed open the door of the private bar and ordered
two glasses of beer from the ruddy faced, white aproned landlord.
Your bier should be excellent, if it is as good
as your geese, said he my geese. The man seemed surprised. Yes,
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I was speaking only half an hour ago to mister
Henry Baker, who is a member of your goose club.
Oh yes, I see, But you see, sir, them's not
our geese. Indeed, a who's then? Well, I got the
two dozen from a salesman in Covent Garden. Indeed I
know some of them. Which was it? Breckinridge is his name,
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I don't know him. Well, here's your good health, landlord,
and prosperity to your house. Good night now for mister Breckinridge.
He continued buttoning up his coat as we came out
into the frosty air. Remember Watson, that though we have
so homely a thing as a goose at one end
of this chain, we have at the other end a
man who will certainly get seven years penal servitude unless
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we can establish his innocence. It is possible that our
inquiry may but confirm his guilt. But in any case
we have a line of investigation which has been missed
by the peace, and which a single chance as placed
in our hands. Let us follow it out to the
bitter end faces to the south. Then, and quick march
we passed across Holborn, down Endel Street, and so through
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a zigzag of slums to Covent Garden Market. One of
the largest stalls bore the name of Breckenridge upon it,
and the proprietor, a horsy looking man with a sharp
face and trim side whiskers, was helping a boy to
put up the shutters. Good evening, it's a cold night,
said Holmes. The salesman nodded and shot a questioning glance
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at my companion sold out of geese, I see, continued Holmes,
pointing at the bare slabs of marble. There you have
five hundred to morrow morning. Oh that's no good. Well,
there's some of a store with the gas flore Now.
But I was recommended to you, oh, by the landlord
of the Alpha. Ah. Yeah, I sent him a couple
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of dozen a fine birds. They were too, Now where
did you get them from? To my surprise, the question
provoked a burst of anger from the salesman. Now they're mister,
said he, with his head cocked and his arms at Kimbo.
What you driving at? Lete me? Straight? Now? It is
straight enough. I should like to know who sold you
the geese which you supplied to the Alpha. Well, then
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I shan't tell you so now, No, it's a matter
of no importance. But I don't know why you should
be so warm, ever, of such a trifle warm you
be as warm maybe if you were as pestered as
I am. When I pay good money for a good article,
there should be an end of the business. But it's
worth the geese. And who did you sell the geese too?
And what would you take for the geese when we
think they were the only geese in the world to
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hear the fuss that is made over them. Well, I
have no connection with any other people who've been making inquiries,
said Holmes carelessly. If you won't tell us, the bet
is off, that's all. But I'm always ready to back
my opinion on a matter of fowls. And I have
a five items of the bird eyets country bread. Well,
then you've lost your fiver, for it's town bread, snapped
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the salesman. It's nothing of the kind I say it is.
I don't believe it. Do you think you know more
about fowls than I? We found with them ever since
I was a nipper. I'll tell you all those birds
that went to the Alpha were town bred. You'll never
persuade me to believe that, will you. Bet? Then, oh,
it's merely taking your money. If I know that I'm right.
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But I'll have a sovereign on with you, just to
teach you not to be obstinate. The salesman chuckled grimly.
Bring me the books, bill, said he. The small boy
brought round a small, thin volume and a great greasy
backed one laying them out together besneath the hanging lamp. Now, then,
mister Cockshaw, said the salesman. I thought that I was
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out of geese, but before I finished, you'll find that
there is still one left in my shop. You see
this little book, well, that's a list of the folk
from whom I by, do you see? Well, then here
on this page of the country folk, and the numbers
after their names are where their accounts are in the
big ledger. Now then you see this other page in reading, Well,
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that's a list of my town suppliers. Now look at
that third name. Just read it out to me, missus
Oakshot one one seven, Brixton Hill two four nine, read Holmes.
Quite so, now turn that up in the ledger. Holmes
turned to the page indicated here you are, missus Oakshot
one one seven Brixton Road, Egg and Poultry supplier. Now
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then what's the last entry in December twenty second and
twenty four geese at seven shillings and sixpence. Quite so,
there you are, and underneath sold to mister Windy go
to the alpha at twelve shillings. What have you to
say now? Sharlock Combs looked deeply chagrined, he drew a
sovereign from his pocket and threw it down upon the slab,
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turning away with the air of a man whose disgust
is too deep for words. A few yards off he
stopped under a lamp post and laughed in the hearty,
noiseless fashion which was peculiar to him. You see a
man with whiskers of that cut and the pinkn protruding
out of his pocket, you can always draw him into
a bed, said he. I dare say that if I
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put one hundred pounds down in front of him, that
man would have not given me such complete information as
was drawn from him by the idea that he was
doing me on a wager. Well, Watson me, are I
fancy nearing the end of our quest? And the only
matter remaining to be determined is whether we should go
on to this missus oakshot to night, or whether we
should reserve it for to morrow. It is clear from
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what that surly fellow said that there are others beside
ourselves so are anxious about the matter, and I should
His remarks were suddenly cut short by a loud hubbub
which broke out from the stall which we had just left.
Turning round, we saw a little rat faced fellow standing
in the center of the circle of yellow light which
was thrown by the swinging lamp, while Breckinridge, the salesman,
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framed in the door of his stall, was shaking his
fists fiercely at the cringing figure. I've had enough of
you in your geese, he shouted. I wish you were
all of the devil together. If you come pessuring me
any more with your silly talk, I'll set the doggetyer.
You bring Missus Oakshot here and I'll answer her. But
what have you to do with it? Did I buy
the geese off you? Nay? But one of them is
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mine all the same, whined the little man. Well, then
ask missus Oakshop for it. She told me to ask you. Well,
you can ask the King of Prush over all our care.
I've had enough of it. Get out of this, he
rushed fiercely forward, and the inquirer fitted away into the darkness. Ah,
this may save us a visit to Brixton Road, whispered Holmes.
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Come with me and we shall see what is to
be made of this fellow. Striding through the scattered knots
of people who lounged around the flaring stalls. My companion
speedily overtook the little man and touched him upon the shoulder.
He sprang round, and I could see in the gaslight
that every vestige of color had been driven from his face.
Who are you then? What do you want? He asked
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in a quavering voice. You will excuse me, said Holmes blandly,
But I could not help overhearing the questions which you
put to the salesman. Just now, I think that I
could be of assistance to you. You Who are you?
How could you know anything of the matter. My name
is Sherlock Holmes. It is my business to know what
other people don't know. But you can know nothing of this.
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Excuse me, I know everything of it. You are endeavoring
to trace some geese which was sold by Missus Oakshott
of Brixton Road to a salesman named Breckenridge, by him
in turn to mister Windygate of the Alpha, and by
him to his club, of which mister Henry Baker is
a member. Oh say, you are the very man who
I've longed to meet, cried the little fellow, with outstretched
hands and quivering fingers. I can only explain to you
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how interested I am in this matter. Sherlock Holmes hailed
a four wheeler which was passing. In that case, we
had better discuss it in a cozy room rather than
this wind swept market place, said he. But pray tell
me before we go far. Who is it that I
have the pleasure of assisting? The man hesitated for an instant.
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My name is John Robinson, he answered, with a sidelong glance. No, no,
that the real name, said Holmes sweetly. It is always
awkward doing business with an alias. A flush sprang to
the white cheeks, said the stranger. Well, then said he,
My real name is James Ryder. Ah, precisely so, head
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attendant to the Hotel Cosmopolitan. Pray step into the cab,
and I shall soon be able to tell you everything
which you would wish to know. The little man stood
atlancing from one to the other of us with half frightened,
half hopeful eyes, as one who is not sure whether
he is on the verge of a windfall or of
a catastrophe. Then he stepped into the cab, and in
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half an hour we were back in the sitting room
at Baker Street. Nothing had been said during our drive.
But the high, thin breathing of our new companion, and
the claspings and unclaspings of his hands spoke of the
nervous tension within him. Here we are, said Holmes cheerily,
as we filed into the room. The fire looks very
seasonable in this weather. You look cold, mister rider. Pray
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take the basket chair. I will just put on my
slippers before we set in this little matter of yours. Now,
then you want to know what became of those geese, yes, sir,
Or rather I fancy of that goose. It was one
bird I imagine in which you were interested, white with
a black bar across the tail. Riper quivered with emotion. Oh, sir,
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he cried, Can you tell me where it went to?
It came here here? Ah, Yes, And a most remarkable
bird it proved. I don't wonder that you should take
an interest in it. It laid an egg after it
was dead, the bonniest, brightest little blue egg that ever
was seen. I have it here in my museum. Our
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visitor staggered to his feet and clutched the mantelpiece with
his right hand. Holmes unlocked his strong box and held
up the blue carbuncle, which shone out like a star
with a cold, brilliant, many pointed radiance. Ryder stood glaring
with a drawn face, uncertain whether it's to claim or
to disown it. The game's up, Rider, said Holmes, quietly.
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Hold up, man, or you'll be into the far Give
him an arm back to his chair, Watson, he's not
got blood enough to go in for felony with impunity.
Give him a dash of brandy, so now he looks
a little more human. What a shrimp it is, to
be sure. For a moment he had staggered and nearly fallen,
But the brandy brought a tinge of color into his cheeks,
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and he sat staring with frightened eyes at his accuser.
I have almost every link in my hands, and all
the proofs which I could possibly need, so there is
little which you need to tell me. Still, that little
may as well be cleared up to make the case complete.
You had heard, Rider of this blue stone of the
Countess of Morcah's. It was Catherine Cusack had told me
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of it, said he, in a crackling voice. I see
her Ladyship's waiting maid. Well, the temptation of sudden wealth,
so easily acquired, was too much for you, as it
has been for better men before you. But you were
not very scrupulous in the means you used. It seems
to me, Rider, that there isn't the making of a
very pretty villain in you. You knew that this man
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Horner the Plumber, had been concerned in some such matter before,
and that suspicion would rest them all readily upon him.
What did you do? Then? You made some small job
in my lady's room, you and your confederate Cusack, and
you manage that he should be the man sent for.
Then when he had left, you rifled the due case,
raised the alarm, and had this unfortunate man arrested you.
(35:48):
Then Rider threw himself down suddenly upon the rug and
clutched my companion's knees. For God's sake, have mercy, he screamed,
Think of me, father, of me, mother. He will break
their eyes. I never went wrong before, I never will again.
I I swear it on the Bible. Oh don't bring
it into court, for Christ's sake, don't get back into
(36:09):
your chair, said Holmes sternly. It is very well to
cringe and crawl now, But you thought little enough of
this poor horner in the dock for a crime of
which he knew nothing. Our fly, mister Romes. I'll leave
the country, sir. Then the charge against him will break
down and we will talk about that. And now let
us hear a true account of the next act. How
(36:31):
came the stone into the goose, and how came the
goose into the open market? Tell us of the truth,
for there lies your only hope of safety. Ryder passed
his tongue over his parched lips. I'll tell you it
just as it happened, sir, said he. When Honor have
been arrested, it seemed to me that it would be best
for me to get away with the stone at once,
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for I did not know what moment the police might
not take it into their heads to search me in
my room. There is no place at the hotel where
it would be safe. I went out, as if on
some commission, and I made for my sister's house. She
married an a man named oak Shot, and lived in
Brixton Road, where she fat and fowls for the market.
All the way there, every man I met seemed to
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me to be a policeman or a detective, for all.
It was at cold night. The sweat was pouring down
my face. Before I came to the Brixton Road. Missister
asked me what was the matter and why I was
so pale, But I told her that I had been
upset by the dual robbery at the hotel. Then I
went into the backyard and spoke to pipe and wondered
what would be the best to do. I had a
(37:38):
friend once called Maudesley, who went to the bed and
had just been serving his time in Pentonville. One day
he met me and fether to talk about the ways
of thieves and how they could get rid of what
they stole. I knew that he would be true to me,
for I knew one or two things about him. So
I made up my mind to go right on to Culburn,
where he lived, and take him into my confidence. He
(37:58):
would show me how to turn the sawn into money.
But I do get to him in safety. I thought
that the agonies had gone through and coming from the hotel,
I might at any moment be seized and searched, and
there would be the stone in my whisked pocket. I
was leaning against the wall at the time and looking
at the geese which were badly about round our feet.
(38:19):
And suddenly an idea came into my head which showed
me how I could beat the best detective that ever lived.
My sister told me some weeks before that I might
have the pick of her geese for a Christmas present,
and I knew that she was always as good as
her word. I'll take my goose now, and in it
I carry my stone to Cuban. There was a little
(38:39):
shed in the yard behind this. I drove one of
the birds up, fine, big one white with a barred tail.
I caught it and prying its below w and I
thrust the stone down its throat as far as my
finger could reach. The bird gave a gulp, and I
felt the stone pass along its gullet and down into
its crop. But the creature flapped and struggled. Out. Came
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my sister to know what was the matter. As I
turned to speak to her, the broke loose and flattened
off among the others. Whatever were you doing with that bird, Jim,
says she well said, I you said you'd give me
one for Christmas, and I was feeling which was the fattest, how,
says she, We've set yours aside for you, Jem's bird,
(39:20):
we called it. It's a big white one over yonder.
There's twenty six of them, which makes one for you
and one for us, and two dozen for the market.
Thank you, Maggie, says I. But if it's all the
same to you, I'd rather have that one I was
ending just now. Oh the other's a good three pounds
heaver here, said she, and we fattened it up expressly
for you. Never mind, I'll have the other, and I'll
(39:42):
take it now, said I. Oh, just as you like,
said she a little laughed. Which is it you want, then,
that white one with a barred tail, right in the
middle of the flock, Oh, very well, can it? And
take it with you? Well? I did what she said,
mister Romes, and I carried the bird all way to Kilburn.
I told my power what I'd done, and, for he
(40:03):
was a man that it was easy to tell a
thing like that too. He laughed and and he choked,
and we got a knife and opened the goose. My
art turned to water, for there was no sign of
the stone, and I knew that some terrible mistake had occurred.
I left the bird, rushed back to my sisters, and
hurried out into the backyard. There's not a bird to
(40:23):
be seen there were they all, Maggie, I cried, gone
to the dealers, jem which dealers Breckenridge of Covent Garden?
But was there another with a barred tail? I asked,
the same as the one I chose. Oh, yes, Jim,
there were two barred taale ones, and I could ever
tell them apart. Well, then, of course I saw it all,
and I ran off as eardes as my feet would
(40:44):
carry me to this man Breckenridge. But he'd sold the
lot at once, and not one word would he tell
me as to where they'd gone. You hurt him yourselves tonight, Well,
he'd always answered me like that. Missister thinks that I'm
going mad. Sometimes I think that I am myself and
now and now I myself a branded thief, without ever
having touched the wealth which I sold my character. God
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help me, God help me. He burst into convulsive sobbing,
with his face buried in his hands. There was a
long silence, broken only by his heavy breathing and by
the measured tapping of shellock combs his finger tips upon
the edge of the table. Then my friend rose and
threw open the door. Get out, said he, what's up?
(41:28):
I'll Heaven bless you. No more words, get out, And
no more words were needed. There was a rush, a
clatter upon the stairs, the bang of a door, and
the crisp rattle of running footfall from the street. After all,
Watson said Holmes, reaching up his hand for his clay pipe.
I am not retained by the police to supply their deficiencies.
(41:50):
If Horner were in danger, be another thing. But this
fellow will not appear against him, and the case must collapse.
I suppose that I am commuting a felony, but it
is just possible that I am saving a soul. This
fellow will not go wrong again, for he is too
terribly frightened. Send him to jail now, and you make
him a jail bird for life. Besides, it is the
(42:12):
season of forgiveness. Chance has put in our way a
most singular and whimsical problem, and its solution is its
own reward. If you will have the goodness to touch
the bell, doctor, we will begin another investigation, in which
also a bird will be the chief feature and of
the adventure of the Blue Carbuncle