“Look here, my man,” said he. “This is really rather an awkward fix for me. I don’t mind how I get on.”
“Neither do I,” said the morose landlord.
“The matter is very important. I would offer you a sovereign for the use of a bicycle.”
The landlord pricked up his ears.
“Where do you want to go?”
“To Holdernesse Hall.”
“Pals of the Dook, I suppose?” said the landlord, surveying our mud-stained garments with ironical eyes.
Holmes laughed good-naturedly.
“He’ll be glad to see us, anyhow.”
“Why?”
“Because we bring him news of his lost son.”
The landlord gave a very