was more likely to be understatement than exaggeration. Watson was always the man of action, and he rose to the occasion.
“Count me in, Holmes. I have nothing to do for a day or two.”
“Your morals don’t improve, Watson. You have added fibbing to your other vices. You bear every sign of the busy medical man, with calls on him every hour.”
“Not such important ones. But can’t you have this fellow arrested?”
“Yes, Watson, I could. That’s what worries him so.”
“But why don’t you?”
“Because I don’t know where the diamond is.”
“Ah! Billy told me—the missing Crown jewel!”
“Yes, the great yellow Mazarin stone. I’ve cast my net and I have my fish. But I have not got the stone. What is the use of taking them ? We can make the world a better place by laying them by the heels. But that is not what I am out for. It’s the stone I want.”
“And is this Count Sylvius one of your fish?”
“Yes, and he’s a shark. He bites. The other is Sam Merton the boxer. Not a bad fellow, Sam, but the Count has used him. Sam’s not a shark. He is a great big silly bullheaded gudgeon. But he is flopping about in my net all the same.”
“Where is this Count Sylvius?”
“I’ve been at his very elbow all the morning. You’ve seen me as an old lady, Watson. I was never more convincing. He actually picked up my parasol for me once. ‘By your leave, madame,’ said he—half-ltalian, you