Silver Blaze - The Memoirs of Sherlock Holmes - Sir Arthur Conan Doyle

Solve crimes with the great detective in "Sherlock Holmes Short Stories." Featuring classic tales by Arthur Conan Doyle, this podcast brings you the brilliant deductions and thrilling adventures of Sherlock Holmes and Dr. Watson. Whether you're a longtime fan or new to the world of Holmes, these timeless mysteries will keep you captivated.

Episode Transcript

Speaker 1 (00:00):
Silver blaze. I am afraid, Watson, that I shall have
to go, said Holmes, as we sat down together to
our breakfast one morning, Go where to to Dartmoor, to
King's Piland. I was not surprised, Indeed, my only wonder
was that he had not already been mixed up in

(00:21):
this extraordinary case, which was the one topic of conversation
through the length and breadth of England for a whole day.
My companion had rambled about the room with his chin
upon his chest and his brows knitted, charging and recharging
his pipe with the strongest black tobacco, and absolutely deaf
to any of my questions or remarks. Fresh editions of

(00:45):
every paper had been sent up by our newsagent, only
to be glanced over and tossed down into a corner. Yet,
silent as he was, I knew perfectly well what it
was over which he was brooding. There was but one
problem before the public which could challenge his powers of analysis,
and that was the singular disappearance of the favorite for

(01:06):
the Wessex Cup and the tragic murder of its trainer.
When therefore he suddenly announced his intention of setting out
for the scene of the drama it was only what
I had been expecting and hoped for. I should be
most happy to go down with you if I should
not be in the way, said I, my dear Watson.
You would confer a great favor upon me by coming,

(01:29):
and I think that your time will not be misspent,
for there are points about the case which promised to
make it an absolutely unique one. We have. I think
just time to catch our train at Pannington, and I
will go further into the matter upon our journey. You
would oblige me by bringing with you your very excellent
field glass. And so it happened that an hour or

(01:51):
so later I found myself in the corner of a
first class carriage flying along en route for Exeter, while
Sherlock Holmes, with his sharp, eager face framed in his
ear flapping traveling cap, dipped rapidly into the bundle of
fresh papers which he had procured at Paddington. We had
left reading far behind us before he thrust the last

(02:12):
one of them under the seat and offered me his
cigar case. We are going well, said he, looking out
the window and glancing at his watch. Our rate at
present is fifty three and a half miles an hour,
I have not observed the quarter mile posts, said I.
Nor have I. But the telegraph posts upon this line

(02:34):
are sixty yards apart, and the calculation is a simple one.
I presume that you have looked into this matter of
the murder of John Straker and the disappearance of silver Blaze.
I've seen what the telegraph and the chronicle have to say.
It is one of those cases where the art of
the reasoner should be used rather for the sifting of

(02:55):
details than for the acquiring of fresh evidence. The tragedy
has been so uncommon, so complete, and of such personal
importance to so many people, that we are suffering from
a plethora of surmise, conjecture and hypothesis. The difficulty is
to detach the framework of fact, of absolute undeniable fact,

(03:19):
from the embellishments of theorists and reporters. Then, having established
ourselves upon this sound basis, it is our duty to
see what inferences may be drawn, and what are the
special points upon which the whole mystery turns. On Tuesday
evening I received telegrams from both Colonel Ross, the owner

(03:40):
of the horse, and from Inspector Gregory, who is looking
after the case, inviting my cooperation. Tuesday evening, I exclaimed,
and this is Thursday morning. Why didn't you go down yesterday?
Because I made a blunder, my dear Watson, which is,
I am afraid, a more common occurrence than any one

(04:02):
would think who only knew me through your memoirs. The
fact is that I could not believe it possible that
the most remarkable horse in England could long remain concealed,
especially in so sparsely inhabited a place as the north
of Dartmoor. From hour to hour yesterday I expected to
hear that he had been found and that his abductor

(04:24):
was the murderer of John Straker. When, however, another morning
had come and I found that, beyond the arrest of
young Fitzroy Simpson, nothing had been done. I felt that
it was time for me to take action. Yet in
some ways I feel that yesterday has not been wasted.
You have formed a theory, then at least I have

(04:47):
got a grip of the essential facts of the case.
I shall enumerate them to you, for nothing clears upper
case so much as stating it to another person. And
I can hardly expect your co operation if I do
not show you the position from which we start. I
lay back against the cushions, puffing at my cigar, while Holmes,

(05:09):
leaning forward with his long, thin forefinger, checking off the
points upon the palm of his left hand, gave me
a sketch of the events which had led to our journey.
Silver Blaze said, he is from the Somomi stock and
holds as brilliant a record as his famous ancestor. He
is now in his fifth year and has brought in

(05:31):
turn each of the prizes of the turf to Colonel Ross,
his fortunate owner. Up to the time of the catastrophe,
he was the first favorite for the Wessex Cup, the
betting being three to one on him. He has always, however,
been a prime favorite with the racing public, and has
never yet disappointed them, so that even at those odds,

(05:53):
enormous sums of money have been laid upon him. It
is obvious, therefore, that there were many peace people who
had the strongest interest in preventing Silver Blaze from being
there at the fall of the flag next Tuesday. The
fact was of course appreciated at King's Piland, where the
Colonel's training stable is situated. Every precaution was taken to

(06:17):
guard the favourite. The trainer. John Straker is a retired
jockey who rode in Colonel Ross's colours before he became
too heavy for the weighing chair. He has served the
Colonel for five years as jockey and for seven as trainer,
and has always shown himself to be a zealous and
honest servant. Under him were three lads, for the establishment

(06:41):
was a small one, containing only four horses in all.
One of these lads sat up each night in the stable,
while the others slept in the loft. All three bore
excellent characters. John Straker, who is a married man, lived
in a small villa about two hundred yards from the stables, children,

(07:01):
keeps one maid servant, and is comfortably off. The country
round is very lonely, but about half a mile to
the north there is a small cluster of villas which
have been built by a Tavistock contractor for the use
of invalids and others who may wish to enjoy the
pure Dartmoor air. Tavistock itself lies two miles to the west,

(07:22):
while across the moor, also about two miles distant, is
the larger training establishment of Mapleton. Which belongs to Lord
Backwater and is managed by Silas Brown. In every other direction,
the moor is a complete wilderness, inhabited only by a
few roaming gypsies. Such was the general situation last Monday

(07:44):
night when the catastrophe occurred. On that evening, the horses
had been exercised and watered as usual, and the stables
were locked up. At nine o'clock, two of the lads
walked up to Traynor's house, where they had supper in
the kitchen, while the third ned hunter remained on guard.

(08:05):
At a few minutes after nine, the maid, Edith Baxter,
carried down to the stables his supper, which consisted of
a dish of curried mutton. She took no liquid, as
there was a water tap in the stables and it
was the rule that the lad on duty should drink
nothing else. The maid carried a lantern with her, as
it was very dark and the path ran across the

(08:27):
open moor. Edith Baxter was within thirty yards of the
stables when a man appeared out of the darkness and
called to her to stop. As he stepped into the
circle of yellow light thrown by the lantern. She saw
that he was a person of gentlemanly bearing, dressed in
a gray suit of tweeds with a cloth cap. He

(08:49):
wore gaiters and carried a heavy stick with a knob
to it. She was most impressed, however, by the extreme
pallor of his face, and by the nervousness of his manner.
His age, she thought, would be rather over thirty than
under it. Can you tell me where I am, he asked.
I had almost made up my mind to sleep on

(09:11):
the moor when I saw the light of your lantern.
You are close to the King's piland training stables, said she. Oh, indeed,
what a stroke of luck, He cried, I understand that
a stable boy sleeps there alone every night. Perhaps that
is his supper which you are carrying to him. Now.
I am sure that you would not be too proud

(09:32):
to earn the price of a new dress, would you.
He took a piece of white paper folded up out
of his waistcoat pocket. See that the boy has this
to night, and you shall have the prettiest frock that
money can buy. She was frightened by the earnestness of
his manner, and ran past him to the window through
which she was accustomed to hand the meals. It was

(09:54):
already opened, and Hunter was seated at the small table inside.
She had ben to tell him of what had happened.
When the stranger came up again. Good evening, said he,
looking through the window. I wanted to have a word
with you. The girl has sworn that. As he spoke,
she noticed the corner of the little paper packet protruding

(10:15):
from his closed hand. What business have you here, asked
the lad. It's business that may put something into your pocket,
said the other. You've two horses in for the Wessex Cup,
silver Blaze and Bayard. Let me have the straight tip
and you won't be a loser. Is it a fact
that at the weights Bayard could give the other a

(10:38):
hundred yards in five furlongs, and that the stable have
put their money on him. So you're one of those
damned touts, cried the lad. I'll show you how we
serve them in King's Piland. He sprang up and rushed
across the stable to unloose the dog. The girl fled
away to the house, but as she ran, she looked

(10:58):
back and saw that the string was leaning through the window.
A minute later, however, when Hunter rushed out with the hound.
He was gone, and though he ran all round the buildings,
he failed to find any trace of him. One moment
I asked, did the stable boy, when he ran out
with the dog leave the door unlocked behind him? Excellent?

(11:21):
What's an excellent, murmured my companion. The importance of the
point struck me so forcibly that I sent a special
wire to Dartmoor yesterday to clear the matter up. The
boy locked the door before he left it. The window,
i may add, was not large enough for a man
to get through. Hunter waited until his fellow grooms had

(11:43):
returned when he sent a message to the trainer and
told him what had occurred. Straker was excited at hearing
the account, although he does not seem to have quite
realized its true significance. It left him, however, vaguely uneasy,
and Missus Straker, waking at one in the morning, found
that he was dressing. In reply to her inquiries, he

(12:06):
said that he could not sleep on account of his
anxiety about the horses, and that he intended to walk
down to the stables to see that all was well.
She begged him to remain at home, as she could
hear the rain pattering against the window, but in spite
of her entreaties, he pulled on his large mackintosh and
left the house. Missus Straker awoke at seven in the

(12:29):
morning to find that her husband had not yet returned.
She dressed herself hastily, called the maid and set off
for the stables. The door was open. Inside, huddled together
upon a chair, Hunter was sunk in a state of
absolute stupor. The favorite stall was empty, and there were
no signs of his trainer. The two lads who slept

(12:54):
in the chaff cutting loft above the harness room were
quickly aroused. They had heard nothing during the night, for
they are both sound sleepers. Hunter was obviously under the
influence of some powerful drug, and as no sense could
be got out of him, he was left to sleep
it off while the two lads and the two women
ran out in search of the absentees. They still had

(13:17):
hopes that the trainer had for some reason taken out
the horse for early exercise, But on ascending the knoll
near the house, from which all the neighboring moors were visible,
they not only could see no signs of the missing favorite,
but they perceived something which warned them that they were
in the presence of a tragedy. About a quarter of

(13:37):
a mile from the stables, John Straker's overcoat was flapping
from a furze bush. Immediately beyond there was a bowl
shaped depression in the moor, and at the bottom of
this was found the dead body of the unfortunate trainer.
His head had been shattered by a savage blow from
some heavy weapon, and he was wounded on the thigh,

(13:59):
where there was a long, clean cut, inflicted evidently by
some very sharp instrument. It was clear, however, that Straker
had defended himself vigorously against his assailants, for in his
right hand he held a small knife which has clotted
with blood up to the handle, while in his left
he clasped a red and black silk cravat, which was

(14:20):
recognized by the maid as having been worn on the
preceding evening by the stranger who had visited the stables. Hunter,
on recovering from his stupor, was also quite positive as
to the ownership of the cravat. He was equally certain
that the same stranger had, while standing at the window,
drugged his curried mutton, and so deprived the stables of

(14:43):
their watchmen. As to the missing horse, there were abundant
proofs in the mud which lay at the bottom of
the fatal hollow, that he had been there at the
time of the struggle. But from that morning he has disappeared,
and although a large reward has been offered and all
the gyps of Dartmoor are on the alert, no news
has come of him. Finally, an analysis has shown that

(15:07):
the remains of his supper left by the stable lad
contained an appreciable quantity of powdered opium, while the people
at the house partook of the same dish on the
same night without any ill effect. Those are the main
facts of the case, stripped of all surmise, and stated
as baldly as possible. I shall now recapitulate what the

(15:30):
police have done in the matter. Inspector Gregory, to whom
the case has been committed, is an extremely competent officer.
Were he but gifted with imagination, he might rise to
great heights in his profession. On his arrival, he promptly
found and arrested the man upon whom suspicion naturally rested.

(15:50):
There was little difficulty in finding him, for he inhabited
one of those villas which I have mentioned. His name,
it appears, was Fitzroy Simpson. He was a man of
excellent birth and education, who had squandered a fortune upon
the turf, and who lived now by doing a little
quiet and genteel book making in the sporting clubs of London.

(16:11):
An examination of his betting book shows that betts to
the amount of five thousand pounds had been registered by
him against the favorite. On being arrested, he volunteered the
statement that he had come down to Dartmoor in the
hope of getting some information about the King's piland horses,
and also about Desborough, the second favorite, which was in

(16:33):
charge of Silas Brown at the Mapleton stables. He did
not attempt to deny that he had acted as described
upon the evening before, but declared that he had no
sinister designs and had simply wished to obtain first hand information.
When confronted with his cravat, he turned very pale and

(16:55):
was utterly unable to account for its presence in the
hand of the murdered man. His wet clothing showed that
he had been out in the storm of the night before,
and his stick which was a penang lawyer weighted with lead,
was just such a weapon as might my repeated blows
have inflicted the terrible injuries to which the trainer had succumbed.

(17:18):
On the other hand, there was no wound upon his person,
while the state of Straker's knife would show that one
at least of his assailants must bear his mark upon him.
There you have it all in a nutshell, Watson, and
if you can give me any light, I shall be
infinitely obliged to you. I had listened with the greatest

(17:38):
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 be

(17:59):
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

(18:22):
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

(18:47):
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 defense,

(19:09):
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

(19:31):
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 waiting us in the station,

(19:52):
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

(20:17):
rapidly making his name in the English detective service. I
am delighted that you have come down, mister 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.

(20:42):
I'm 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 falls, we might talk it over as
we drive a minute later, we were all seated in
a comfortable landown and were rattling through the quaint old
Devonshire City Inspector Gregory was full of his case and

(21:06):
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

(21:27):
exactly what Holmes had foretold in the train. The net
is drawn pretty close round Fitzroy Simpson, he remarked, and
I believe myself that he is our man. At the
same time, I recognize that the evidence is purely circumstantial,
and that some new development may upset it. How about
Straker's knife, we have quite come to the conclusion that

(21:51):
he wounded himself in his fall. My dear friend, doctor
Watson made that suggestion to me as we came down.
If so, it would tell against this man Simpson. Undoubtedly
he has neither a knife nor any sign of a wound.
The evidence against him is certainly very strong. He had
a great interest in the disappearance of the favorite. He

(22:14):
lies under suspicion of having poisoned the stable boy. He
was undoubtedly out in the storm. He was armed with
a heavy stick when his cravat was found in the
dead man's hand. I really think we have enough to
go before a jury, Holmes shook his head. A clever
counsel would tear it all to rags, said he. Why

(22:35):
should he take the horse out of the stable if
he wished to injure it? Why could he not do it?
There has a duplicate key been found in his possession?
What chemists sold him the powdered opium? Above all, where
could he, a stranger to the district, hide a horse,
and such a horse as this. What is his own

(22:55):
explanation as to the paper which he wished the maid
to give to the stable boy. He says that it
was a ten pound note, and one was found in
his purse. But your other difficulties are not so formidable
as they seem. He is not a stranger to the district.
He has twice lodged at Tavistock in the summer. The

(23:16):
opium was probably brought from London. The key, having served
its purpose, will be hurled away. The horse may be
at the bottom of one of the pits or old
mines upon the moor. What does he say about the cravat?
He acknowledges that it is his and declares that he
had lost it. But a new element has been introduced

(23:37):
into the case which may account for his leading the
horse from the stable. Holmes pricked up his ears. We
have found traces which show that a party of gypsies
encamped on Monday night within a mile of the spot
where the murder took place. On Tuesday they were gone. Now,

(23:57):
presuming that there was some understanding between Simpson and these gypsies,
might not have been leading the oars to them when
he was overtaken, and may they not have him now?
It is certainly possible the moor is being scoured for
these gypsies. I have also examined every stable and outhouse
in Tavistock, and for a radius of ten miles there

(24:22):
is another training stable quite close. I understand, yes, and
that is a factor which we must certainly not neglect.
As desper their horse was second in the betting. They
had an interest in the disappearance of the favorite Silas Brown.
The trainer is known to have had large bets upon
the event, and he was no friend to poor Straker.

(24:44):
We have, however, examined the stables, and there is nothing
to connect him with the affair, and nothing to connect
this man Simpson with the interests of the Mapleton Stables,
nothing at all. Holmes leaned back in the carriage and
the conversation ceased. A few minutes later, our driver pulled

(25:05):
up at a neat, little red brick villa with overhanging eaves,
which stood by the road. Some distance off across a
paddock lay a long, gray tiled outbuilding. In every other direction,
the low curves of the moor bronze colored from the
fading ferns, stretched away to the sky line, broken only

(25:25):
by the steeples of Tavistock, and by a cluster of
houses away to the westward, which marked the Mapleton Stables.
We all sprang out, with the exception of Homes, who
continued to lean back with his eyes fixed upon the
sky in front of him, entirely absorbed in his own thoughts.
It was only when I touched his arm that he

(25:46):
roused himself with a violent start and stepped out of
the carriage. Excuse me, said he, turning to Colonel Ross,
who had looked at him in some surprise. I was daydreaming.
There was a gleam in his eyes, and a suppressed
excitement in his manner, which convinced me, used as I
was to his ways, that his hand was upon a clew,

(26:09):
though I could not imagine where he had found it.
Perhaps you would prefer at once to go on to
the scene of the cry, mister Elmes, said Gregory. I
think that I should prefer to stay here a little
and go into one or two questions of detail. Straker
was brought back here. I presume, yes, Milah is upstairs.

(26:30):
The inquest is to morrow. He has been in your
service some years, Colonel Ross. I have always found him
an excellent servant. I presume that you made an inventory
of what he had in his pockets at the time
of his death. Inspector, I have the things themselves in
the sitting room. If you would care to see them,

(26:51):
I should be very glad. We all filed into the
front room and sat round the central table while the
inspector unlocked a square tin box and laid a small
heap of things before us. There was a box of vestas,
two inches of tallow candle an, a d P brier
root pipe, a pouch of seal skin with half an

(27:13):
ounce of long cut cavendish, a silver watch with a
gold chain, five sovereigns in gold, an aluminum pencil case,
a few papers, and an ivory handled knife with a
very delicate inflexible blade marked weissen Co. London. This is
a very singular knife, said Holmes, lifting it up and

(27:35):
examining it minutely. I presume, as I see bloodstains upon it,
that it is the one which was found in the
dead man's grasp. Watson, this knife is surely in your line.
It's what we call a cataract knife, said I. I
thought so. A very delicate blade devised for very delicate work.

(27:58):
A strange thing for a man to with him upon
a rough expedition, especially as it would not shut in
his pocket. The tip was guarded by a disk of cork,
which we found beside his body, said the inspector. His
wife tells us that the knife had lain upon the
dressing table and they had picked it up as he
left the room. It was a poor weapon, but perhaps

(28:21):
the best that he could lay his hands on at
the moment. Very possible. How about these papers. Three of
them are a seated hay dealer's accounts. One of them
is a letter of instructions from Colonel Ross. This other
is a milliner's account for thirty seven pounds fifteen made
out by Madame Lazuria of bond Streak to William Derbyshire.

(28:44):
Missus Straker tells us that Derbyshire was a friend of
her husband's, and that occasionally his letters were addressed here.
Madame Derbyshire has somewhat expensive tastes, remarked Holmes, glancing down
the account. Twenty two guineas is rather head for a
single costume. However, there appears to be nothing more to learn,
and we may now go down to the scene of

(29:06):
the crime. As we emerged from the sitting room, a
woman who had been waiting in the passage took a
step forward and laid her hand upon the inspector's sleeve.
Her face was haggard and thin and eager, stamped with
the print of a recent horror. Have you got them?
Have yer found them? She panted? Now, Missus Striker. But

(29:30):
mister Elmes ear has come from London to help us,
and we shall do all that is possible. Surely, I
met you in Plymouth at a garden party some little
time ago. Missus Straker said Holmes, No, sir, you are mistaken.
Dear me, why I could have sworn to it. You
wore a costume of dove colored silk with ostrich feather trimming.

(29:53):
I never had such a dress, sir, answered the lady. Ah,
that quite settles it, said Holmes, and with an apology,
he followed the inspector outside. A short walk across the
moor took us to the hollow in which the body
had been found. At the brink of it was the
furze bush upon which the coat had been hung. There

(30:14):
was no wind that night, I understand, said Holmes, none,
but very heavy rain. In that case, the overcoat was
not blown against the furze bush, but placed there. Yes,
it was laid across the bush. You fill me with interest.
I perceive that the ground has been trampled up a
good deal, no doubt. Many feet have been here since

(30:36):
Monday night. A piece of man has been laid here
at the side, and we have all stood upon it. Excellent.
In this bag I have one of the boots which
strike a war one of Fitzroy Simpson's shoes, and a
cast horseshoe of silver. Blaze, My dear inspector, you surpass yourself.

(30:57):
Holmes took the bag, and, descending into the hollow, he
pushed the matting into a more central position. Then, stretching
himself upon his face and leaning his chin upon his hands,
he made a careful study of the trampled mud in
front of him. Hullo said he suddenly, what's this? It

(31:17):
was a wax vesta, half burned, which was so coated
with mud that it looked at first like a little
chip of wood. I cannot think our kind to overlook it,
said the inspector, with an expression of annoyance. It was invisible,
buried in the mud. I only saw it because I
was looking for it. What you expected to find it?

(31:41):
I thought it not unlikely. He took the boots from
the bag and compared the impressions of each of them
with marks upon the ground. Then he clambered up to
the rim of the hollow and crawled about among the
ferns and bushes. I am afraid that there are no
more tracks, said the inspector. I have examined the ground
very carefully for a hundred yards in each direction. Indeed,

(32:04):
said Holmes, rising, I should not have the impertinence to
do it again after what you say, but I should
like to take a little walk over the moor before
it grows dark, that I may know my ground to morrow.
And I think that I shall put this horse shoe
into my pocket for luck. Colonel Ross, who had shown
some signs of impatience at my companion's quiet and systematic

(32:27):
method of work, glanced at his watch. I wish you
would come back with me, inspector, said he. There are
several points on which I should like your advice, and
especially as to whether we do not owe it to
the public to remove our horse's name from the entries
for the cup. Certainly not, cried Holmes, with decision, I

(32:48):
should let the name stand. The colonel bowed. I am
very glad to have had your opinion, Sir, said he.
You will find us a poor straker's when you have
finished your walk, and we can drive together into Tavistock.
He turned back with the inspector while Holmes and I
walked slowly across the moor. The sun was beginning to

(33:12):
sink behind the stables of Mapleton, and the long sloping
plain in front of us was tinged with gold, deepening
into rich ruddy browns, where the faded ferns and brambles
caught the evening light. But the glories of the landscape
were all wasted upon my companion, who was sunk in
the deepest thought. It's this way, Watson said he. At

(33:34):
last we may leave the question of who killed John
Straker for the instant, and confine ourselves to finding out
what has become of the horse. Now, supposing that he
broke away during or after the tragedy, where could he
have gone to? The horse is a very gregarious creature.
If left to himself, his instincts would have been either

(33:56):
to return to King's Piland or go over to Mapleton.
Why should he run wild upon the moor? He would
surely have been seen by now, And why should gipsies
kidnap him? These people always clear out when they hear
of trouble, for they do not wish to be pestered
by the police. They could not hope to sell such
a horse. They would run a great risk and gain

(34:19):
nothing by taking him. Surely that is clear. Where is he? Then?
I have already said that he must have gone to
King's Piland or to Mapleton. He is not at King's Piland.
Therefore he is at Mapleton. Let us take that as
a working hypothesis and see what it leads us to.

(34:40):
This part of the moor, as the inspector remarked, is
very hard and dry, but it falls away towards Mapleton,
and you can see from here that there is a
long hollow over Yonder, which must have been very wet
on Monday night. If our supposition is correct, then the
horse must have crossed that, and there is a po
where we should look for his tracks. We had been

(35:03):
walking briskly during this conversation, and a few more minutes
brought us to the hollow in question. At Holmes's request,
I walked down the bank to the right, and he
to the left. But I had not taken fifty paces
before I heard him give a shout and saw him
waving his hand to me. The track of a horse
was plainly outlined in the soft earth in front of him,

(35:26):
and the shoe which he took from his pocket exactly
fitted the impression. See the value of imagination, said Holmes.
It is the one quality which Gregory lacks. We imagined
what might have happened, acted upon the supposition and find
ourselves justified. Let us proceed. We crossed the marshy bottom

(35:49):
and passed over a quarter of a mile of dry,
hard turf. Again the ground sloped, and again we came
on the tracks. Then we lost them for half a mile,
but only to pick them up once more, quite close
to Mapleton. It was Holmes who saw them first, and
he stood pointing, with a look of triumph upon his face.

(36:10):
A man's track was visible beside the horses. The horse
was alone before, I cried, quite so it was alone
before HULLO, what is this? The double track turned sharp
off and took the direction of King's Piland. Holmes whistled,

(36:30):
and we both followed along after it. His eyes were
on the trail, but I happened to look a little
to one side and saw, to my surprise, the same
tracks coming back again in the opposite direction. One for you, Watson,
said Holmes, when I pointed it out. You have saved
us a long walk which would have brought us back
on our own traces. Let us follow the return track.

(36:54):
We had not to go far. It ended at the
paving of asphalt which led up to the gates of
the Mapleton stables. As we approached, a groom ran out
from them. We don't want any loiterers about here, said he.
I only wish to ask a question, said Holmes, with
his finger and thumb in his waistcoat pocket. Should I

(37:15):
be too early to see your master, mister Silas Brown,
if I were to call at five o'clock to morrow morning,
bless you, sir. If any one is about, he will be,
for he's always the first stirring. But here he is, sir,
to answer your questions for himself. No, sir, no, it
is as much as my places were to let him
see me. Touch your money afterwards if you like. As

(37:37):
Sherlock Holmes replaced the half crown which he had drawn
from his pocket. A fierce looking elderly man strode out
from the gate with a hunting crop swinging in his hand.
What's this, dawsum, he cried, No gossiping, Go about your business,
and you, what the devil do you want here? Ten minutes?
Talk with you, my good sir, said Holmes, in the

(37:59):
swing of voices. I've no time to talk. Every gut
a boat. We want no stranger. Ear be off, or
you may find a dog at your eels. Holmes leaned
forward and whispered something in the trainer's ear. He started
violently and flushed to the temples. It's a lie, he shouted,
an infernal lie. Very good. Shall we argue about it

(38:22):
here in public? Or talk it over in your parlor? Oh,
come in if you wish to Holmes smiled. I shall
not keep you more than a few minutes, Watson said
he Now, mister Brown, I am quite at your disposal.
It was twenty minutes and the reds had all faded
into graze before Holmes and the trainer reappeared. Never have

(38:44):
I seen such a change as had been brought about
in Silas Brown in that short time. His face was ashy, pale,
beads of perspiration shone upon his brow, and his hands
shook until the hunting crop wagged like a branch in
the wind. And his bullying, overbearing manner was all gone too,

(39:05):
and he cringed along at my companion's side, like a
dog with its master. Your instructions will be done. It
shall all be done, said he. There must be no mistake,
said Holmes, looking round at him. The other winced as
he read the menace in his eyes. Oh no, there
shall be no mistake. It shall be here. Should I

(39:25):
change it first or not? Holmes thought a little, and
then burst out laughing. No don't, said he. I shall
write to you about it. No tricks now, or oh
you can trust me? You can trust me? Yes, I
think I can. Well, you shall hear from me to morrow.
He turned upon his heel, disregarding the trembling hand which

(39:46):
the other held out to him, and we set off
for King's Piland. A more perfect compound of the bully,
coward and sneak than Master Silas Brown I have seldom
met with, remarked Holmes, as we trudged along together. He
has the horse. Then he tried to bluster out of it.
But I described to him so exactly what his actions

(40:07):
had been upon that morning, that he is convinced that
I was watching him. Of course, you observed the peculiarly
square toes in the impressions, and that his own boots
exactly corresponded to them. Again, of course, no subordinate would
have dared to do such a thing. I described to him, how,
when according to his custom, he was the first down,

(40:29):
he perceived a strange horse wondering over the moor. How
he went out to it, and his astonishment at recognizing
from the white forehead which has given the favorite its name,
that chance had put in his power the only horse
which could beat the one upon which he had put
his money. Then I described how his first impulse had
been to lead him back to King's Piland, and how

(40:51):
the devil had shown him how he could hide the
horse until the race was over, and how he had
led it back and concealed it at Mapleton. When I
told him every detail, he gave it up and thought
only of saving his own skin. But his stables had
been searched. Oh, an old horse faker like him has

(41:12):
many a dodge. But are you not afraid to leave
the horse in his power now? Since he has every
interest in injuring it, my dear fellow, he will guard
it as the apple of his eye. He knows that
his only hope of mercy is to produce it safe.
Colonel Ross did not impress me as a man who
would be likely to show much mercy. In any case,

(41:35):
the matter does not rest with Colonel Ross. I follow
my own methods and tell as much or as little
as I choose. That is the advantage of being unofficial.
I don't know whether you observed it, Watson. But the
colonel's manner has been just a trifle cavalier to me.
I am inclined now to have a little amusement at

(41:57):
his expense. Say nothing to him about the horse, certainly
not without your permission. And of course this is all
quite a minor point compared to the question of who
killed John Straker, and you will devote yourself to that.
On the contrary, we both go back to London by

(42:17):
the night train. I was thunderstruck by my friend's words
we had only been a few hours in Devonshire, and
that he should give up an investigation which he had
begun so brilliantly was quite incomprehensible to me. Not a
word more could I draw from him until we were
back at the trainer's house. The colonel and the inspector

(42:38):
were awaiting us in the parlor. My friend and I
returned to town by the night express, said Holmes, we
have had a charming little breath of your beautiful Dartmoor air.
The inspector opened his eyes, and the Colonel's lip curled
in a sneer. So you would despair of arresting the
murderer of poor Straker. He Holmes shrugged his shoulders. There

(43:03):
are certainly grave difficulties in the way, said he. I
have every hope, however, that your horse will start upon Tuesday,
and I beg that you will have your jockey in readiness.
Might I ask for a photograph of mister John Straker.
The inspector took one from an envelope and handed it
to him. My dear Gregory, you anticipate all my wants.

(43:26):
If I might ask you to wait here for an
instant I have a question which I should like to
put to the maid. I must say that I am
rather disappointed in our London consultant, said Colonel Ross bluntly.
As my friend left the room. I do not see
that we are any further than when he came. At
least you have his assurance that your horse will run,

(43:48):
said I. Yes, I have his assurance, said the colonel,
with a shrug of his shoulders. I should prefer to
have the horse. I was about to make some reply
in defense of my friend when he entered the room again. Now, gentlemen,
he said, I am quite ready for Tavistoc. As we

(44:08):
stepped into the carriage, one of the stable lads held
the door open for us. A sudden idea seemed to
occur to Holmes, for he leaned forward and touched the
lad upon the sleeve. You have a few sheep in
the paddock, he said, Who attends to them? I do, sir?
Have you noticed anything amiss with them of late? Well, sir,

(44:30):
not of much account, but three of them have gone lame, sir.
I could see that Holmes was extremely pleased, for he
chuckled and rubbed his hands together. A long shot, Watson,
A very long shot, said he, pinching my arm. Gregory,
let me recommend to your attention this singular epidemic among

(44:50):
the sheep drive on coachman. Colonel Ross still wore an
expression which showed the poor opinion which he had formed
of my companion's ability. But I saw by the inspector's
face that his attention had been keenly aroused. You consider
that to be important, he asked, exceedingly. So is there

(45:11):
any point to which you would wish to draw my
attention to the curious incident of the dog in the
night time? The dog did nothing in an art time.
That was the curious incident, remarked Sherlock Holmes. Four days later,
Holmes and I were again in the train bound for
Winchester to see the race for the Wessex Cup. Colonel

(45:35):
Ross met us by appointment outside the station, and we
drove in his drag to the course beyond the town.
His face was grave and his manner was cold in
the extreme. I have seen nothing of my horse, said he.
I suppose that you would know him when you saw him,
asked Holmes. The colonel was very angry. I have been

(45:57):
on the turf for twenty years and never was ask
such a question as that before, said he, A child
with no silver blaze, with his white forehead and his
mottled off fore leg. How is the betting, Well, that
is the curious part of it. You could have got
fifteen to one yesterday, but the price has become shorter

(46:18):
and shorter, until you can hardly get three to one now,
hum said Holmes. Somebody knows something that is clear. As
the drag drew up in the enclosure near the grandstand,
I glanced at the card to see the entries. Wessex Plate.
It ran fifty sovs each eh feet, with one thousand

(46:41):
sovs added for four and five year olds. Second l
three hundred, third, l two hundred new course, one mile
and five furlongs, Mister Heath Newton's the Negro red cap,
cinnamon jacket, Colonel Wardlaw's Pugilist pink cap, blue and black jacket,
Lord Backwater's Desbra yellow cap and sleeves, Colonel Ross's Silver Blaze,

(47:02):
black cap, red jacket, Duke of Bellmoral's Iris, yellow and
black stripes, Lord Singleford's Rasper purple cap, black sleeves. We
scratched our other one and put all our hopes on
your word, said the colonel. Why what is that silver
Blaze favorite? Five to four against silver Blaze, roared the ring,

(47:26):
five to four against silver Blaze, five to fifteen against Desbra,
five to four. On the field, there are the numbers up,
I cried. They are all six there, all six there.
Then my horse is running, cried the Colonel, in great agitation.
But I don't see him. My colors have not passed,

(47:48):
only five have passed. This must be he As I spoke,
a powerful bay horse swept out from the weighing enclosure
and cantered past us, bearing on its back the well
known black and red of the Colonel. That's not my horse,
cried the owner, that beast has not a white hair
upon his body. What is this that you've done, mister Holmes. Well, well,

(48:13):
let us see how he gets on, said my friend, imperturbably.
For a few minutes he gazed through my field glass capital.
An excellent start, he cried. Suddenly, there they are, coming
round the curve. From our drag, we had a superb
view as they came up the strait. The six horses
were so close together that a carpet could have covered them,

(48:36):
but half way up the yellow of the Mapleton's stable
showed to the front. Before they reached us, however, Desper's
bolt was shot, and the Colonel's horse, coming away with
a rush, passed the post a good six lengths before
its rival, the Duke of Balmoral's iris making a bad third.
It's my race, anyhow, gasped the Colonel, passing his hand

(48:59):
over his eyes. I confess that I can make neither
head nor tail of it. Don't you think that you've
kept up your mystery long enough, mister Holmes, certainly, colonel,
you shall know everything. Let us all go round and
have a look at the horse together. Here he is,
he continued, as we made our way into the weighing
enclosure where only owners and their friends find admittance. You

(49:22):
have only to wash his face and his leg in
the spirits of wine, and you will find that he
is the same old silver blaze as ever you take
my breath away. I found him in the hands of
a fakir and took the liberty of running him just
as he was sent over. My dear sir, you have
done wonders. The horse looks very fit and well. It

(49:45):
never went better in his life. I owe you a
thousand apologies for having doubted your ability. You have done
me a great service by recovering my horse. You would
do me a greater still if you could lay your
hands on the murderer of John Straker. I have done so,
said Holmes quietly. The Colonel and I stared at him

(50:06):
in amazement. You've got him? Where is he? Then? He
is here? Here, where in my company at the present moment,
The Colonel flushed angrily. I quite recognize that I am
under obligations to you, mister Holmes, said he. But I

(50:26):
must regard what you have just said as either a
very bad joke or an insult. Sherlock Holmes laughed. I
assure you that I have not associated you with the crime.
Colonel said he. The real murderer is standing immediately behind you.
He stepped past and laid his hand upon the glossy

(50:48):
neck of the thoroughbred. The horse, cried both the Colonel
and myself. Yes, the horse. And it may lessen his
guilt if I say that it was done in so
self defense, and that John Straker was a man who
was entirely unworthy of your confidence. But there goes the bell,

(51:08):
and as I stand to win a little on this
next race, I shall defer a lengthy explanation until a
more fitting time. We had the corner of a pullman
car to ourselves that evening as we whirled back to London,
and I fancy that the journey was a short one
to Colonel Ross as well as to myself. As we
listened to our companion's narrative of the events which had

(51:29):
occurred at the Dartmoor training stables upon the Monday night,
and the means by which he had unraveled them, I confess,
said he that any theories which I had formed from
the newspaper reports were entirely erroneous, and yet there were
indications there had they not been overlaid by other details
which concealed their true import. I went to Devonshire with

(51:53):
the conviction that Fitzroy Simpson was the true culprit, although
of course I saw that the evidence against was by
no means complete. It was while I was in the carriage,
just as we reached the trainer's house, that the immense
significance of the curried mutton occurred to me. You may
remember that I was distray and remained sitting after you

(52:15):
had all alighted. I was marveling in my own mind
how I could possibly have overlooked so obvious a clue.
I confess, said the Colonel, that even now I cannot
see how it helps us. It was the first link
in my chain of reasoning. Powdered opium is by no
means tasteless. The flavor is not disagreeable, but it is perceptible.

(52:40):
Were it mixed with any ordinary dish, the eater would
undoubtedly detect it and would probably eat no more. A
curry was exactly the medium which would disguise this taste.
By no possible supposition could this stranger Fitzroy Simpson have
caused curry to be served in the trainer's family that night,

(53:00):
And it is surely too monstrous a coincidence to suppose
that he happened to come along with powdered opium upon
the very night when a dish happened to be served,
which would disguise the flavor. That is unthinkable. Therefore, Simpson
becomes eliminated from the case, and our attention centers upon
Straker and his wife, the only two people who could

(53:24):
have chosen curried mutton for supper that night. The opium
was added after the dish was set aside for the
stable boy, for the others had the same for supper
with no ill effects. Which of them then had access
to that dish without the maid seeing them? Before deciding
that question, I had grasped the significance of the silence

(53:45):
of the dog, for one true inference invariably suggests others.
The Simpson incident had shown me that a dog was
kept in the stables, and yet though some one had
been in and had fetched out a horse, he had
not barked enough to arouse the two lads in the loft. Obviously,
the midnight visitor was some one whom the dog knew well.

(54:09):
I was already convinced or almost convinced, that John Straker
went down to the stables in the dead of the
night and took out silver Blaze for what purpose? For
a dishonest one, obviously, or why should he drug his
own stable boy? And yet I was at a loss
to know why. There have been cases before now where

(54:30):
trainers have made sure of great sums of money by
laying against their own horses through agents, and then preventing
them from winning by fraud. Sometimes it is a pulling jockey,
sometimes it is some surer and subtler means, what was
it here? I hoped that the contents of his pockets
might help me to form a conclusion, and they did so.

(54:54):
You cannot have forgotten the singular knife which was found
in the dead man's hand, a knife which certainly no
sane man would choose for a weapon. It was, as
Dr Watson told us, a form of knife which is
used for the most delicate operations known in surgery, and
it was to be used for a delicate operation that night.

(55:16):
You must know, with your wide experience of turf matters,
Colonel Ross, that it is possible to make a slight
nick upon the tendons of a horse's ham and to
do it subcutaneously, so as to leave absolutely no trace.
Our horse so treated would develop a slight lameness, which
would be put down to a strain in exercise or

(55:38):
a touch of rheumatism, but never to foul play. Fillin scoundrel,
cried the colonel. We have here the explanation of why
John Straker wished to take the horse out on to
the moor. So spirited a creature would have certainly roused
the soundest of sleepers when it felt the prick of
the knife. It was absolutely necessary to do it in

(56:01):
the open air. I have been blind, cried the colonel.
Of course, that was why he needed the candle and
struck the match, undoubtedly. But in examining his belongings, I
was fortunate enough to discover not only the method of
the crime, but even its motives. As a man of

(56:21):
the world, Colonel, you know that men do not carry
other people's bills about in their pockets. We have, most
of us quite enough to do to settle our own.
I at once concluded that Straker was leading a double
life and keeping a second establishment. The nature of the
bill showed that there was a lady in the case,
and one who had expensive tastes. Liberal as you are

(56:45):
with your servants, one can hardly expect that they can
buy twenty guineas walking dresses for their ladies. I questioned
missus Straker as to the dress, without her knowing it,
and having satisfied myself that it had never reached her,
I made a note of the Milliner's address, and felt
that by calling there with Straker's photograph I could easily
dispose of the mythical Derbisher. From that time on all

(57:09):
was plain. Straker had led out the horse to a
hollow where his light would be invisible. Simpson, in his
flight had dropped his cravat, and Straker had picked it up,
with some idea, perhaps that he might use it in
securing the horse's leg. Once in the hollow, he had
got behind the horse and had struck a light. But
the creature, frightened at the sudden glare, and with a

(57:32):
strange instinct of animals, feeling that some mischief was intended,
had lashed out, and the steel shoe had struck Straker
full on the forehead. He had, already, in spite of
the rain, taken off his overcoat in order to do
his delicate task, and so as he fell, his knife
gashed his thigh. Do I make it clear? Wonderful, cried

(57:55):
the colonel. Wonderful you might have been there. My final
shot was, I confess a very long one. It struck
me that so astute a man as Straker would not
undertake this delicate tender nicking without a little practice. What
could he practice on? My eyes fell upon the sheep,

(58:15):
and I asked a question, which, rather to my surprise,
showed that my surmise was correct. When I returned to London,
I called upon the milliner, who had recognized Straker as
an excellent customer of the name of Derbyshire, who had
a very dashing wife with a strong partiality for expensive dresses.
I have no doubt that this woman had plunged him

(58:37):
over head and ears in debt, and so led him
into this miserable plot. You have explained all but one thing,
cried the Colonel. Where was the horse? Ah, it bolted
and was cared for by one of your neighbors. We
must have an amnesty in that direction. I think this

(58:58):
is Clapham junction if I am not mistaken, and we
shall be in Victoria in less than ten minutes. If
you care to smoke a cigar in our rooms, Colonel
I shall be happy to give you any other details
which might interest you. End of Silver Blaze