Holmes shrugged his shoulders with a glance of comic resignation towards the Colonel, and the talk drifted away into less dangerous channels.

It was destined, however, that all my professional caution should be wasted, for next morning the problem obtruded itself upon us in such a way that it was impossible to ignore it, and our country visit took a turn which neither of us could have anticipated. We were at breakfast when the Colonel’s butler rushed in with all his propriety shaken out of him.

“Have you heard the news, sir?” he gasped. “At the Cunningham’s sir!”

“Burglary!” cried the Colonel, with his coffee-cup in midair.

“Murder!”

The Colonel whistled. “By Jove!” said he. “Who’s killed, then? The J.P. or his son?”