“You have no fear of burglars?”
“Not the least.”
“How long have you been in these rooms?”
“Nearly five years.”
Holmes’s cross-examination was interrupted by an imperative knocking at the door. No sooner had our client unlatched it than the American lawyer burst excitedly into the room.
“Here you are!” he cried, waving a paper over his head. “I thought I should be in time to get you. Mr. Nathan Garrideb, my congratulations! You are a rich man, sir. Our business is happily finished and all is well. As to you, Mr. Holmes, we can only say we are sorry if we have given you any useless trouble.”
He handed over the paper to our client, who stood staring at a marked advertisement. Holmes and I leaned forward and read it over his shoulder. This is how it ran:
Howard Garrideb Constructor of Agricultural Machinery
Binders, reapers, steam and hand plows, drills, harrows, farmer’s carts, buckboards, and all other appliances. Estimates for Artesian Wells.
Apply Grosvenor Buildings, Aston
“Glorious!” gasped our host. “That makes our third man.”
“I had opened up inquiries in Birmingham,” said the American, “and my agent there has sent me this advertisement from a local paper. We must hustle and put the thing through. I have written to this man and told