Holmes smiled indulgently.

“I fancy that, for some few years, you will find your time very fully occupied,” said he. “By the way, what was it you put into the woodpile besides your old trousers? A dead dog, or rabbits, or what? You won’t tell? Dear me, how very unkind of you! Well, well, I daresay that a couple of rabbits would account both for the blood and for the charred ashes. If ever you write an account, Watson, you can make rabbits serve your turn.”