are the rough

draft. mr. jonas oldacre then informed me that there were

a number of documents -- building leases, title-deeds,

mortgages, scrip, and so forth -- which it was necessary

that i should see and understand. he said that his mind

would not be easy until the whole thing was settled, and he

begged me to come out to his house at norwood that night,

bringing the will with me, and to arrange matters.

'remember, my boy, not one word to your parents about the

affair until everything is settled. we will keep it as a

little surprise for them.' he was very insistent upon this

point, and made me promise it faithfully.

"you can imagine, mr. holmes, that i was not in a humour

to refuse him anything that he might ask. he was my

benefactor, and all my desire was to carry out his wishes

in every particular. i sent a telegram home, therefore, to

say that i had important business on hand, and that it was

impossible for me to say how late i might be. mr. oldacre

had told me that he would like me to have supper with him

at nine, as he might not be home before that hour. i had

some difficulty in finding his house, however, and it was

nearly half-past before i reached it. i found him ----"

"one moment!" said holmes. "who opened the door?"

"a middle-aged woman, who was, i suppose, his housekeeper."

"and it was she, i presume, who mentioned your name?"

"exactly," said mcfarlane.

"pray proceed."

mcfarlane wiped his damp brow and then continued his

narrative:--

"i was shown by this woman into a sitting-room, where a

frugal supper was laid out. afterwards mr. jonas oldacre

led me into his bedroom, in which there stood a heavy safe.

this he opened and took out a mass of documents, which we

went over together. it was between eleven and twelve when

we finished. he remarked that we must not disturb the

housekeeper. he showed me out through his own french

window, which had been open all this time."

"was the blind down?" asked holmes.

"i will not be sure, but i believe that it was only half

down. yes, i remember how he pulled it up in order to

swing open the window. i could not find my stick, and he

said, 'never mind, my boy; i shall see a good deal of you

now, i hope, and i will keep your stick until you come back

to claim it.' i left him there, the safe open, and the

papers made up in packets upon the table. it was so late

that i could not get back to blackheath, so i spent the

night at the anerley arms, and i knew nothing more until i

read of this horrible affair in the morning."

"anything more that you would like to ask, mr. holmes?"

said lestrade, whose eyebrows had gone up once or twice

during this remarkable explanation.

"not until i have been to blackheath."

"you mean to norwood," said lestrade.

"oh, yes; no doubt that is what i must have meant," said

holmes, with his enigmatical smile. lestrade had learned

by more experiences than he would care to acknowledge that

that razor-like brain could cut through that which was

impenetrable to him. i saw him look curiously at my

companion.

"i think i should like to have a word with you presently,

mr. sherlock holmes," said he. "now, mr. mcfarlane, two of

my constables are at the door and there is a four-wheeler

waiting." the wretched young man arose, and with a last

beseeching glance at us walked from the room. the officers

conducted him to the cab, but lestrade remained.

holmes had picked up the pages which formed the rough draft

of the will, and was looking at them with the keenest

interest upon his face.

"there are some points about that document, lestrade, are

there not?" said he, pushing them over.

the official looked at them with a puzzled expression.

"i can read the first few lines, and these in the middle of

the second page, and one or two at the end. those are as

clear as print," said he; "but the writing in between is

very bad, and there are three places where i cannot read it

at all."

"what do you make of that?" said holmes.

"well, what do _you_ make of it?"

"that it was written in a train; the good writing

represents stations, the bad writing movement, and the very

bad writing passing over points. a scientific expert would

pronounce at once that this was drawn up on a suburban line,

since nowhere save in the immediate vicinity of a

great city could there be so quick a succession of points.

granting that his whole journey was occupied in drawing up

the will, then the train was an express, only stopping once

between norwood and london bridge."

lestrade began to laugh.

"you are too many for me when you begin to get on your theories,

mr. holmes," said he. "how does this bear on the case?"

"well, it corroborates the young man's story to the extent

that the will was drawn up by jonas oldacre in his journey

yesterday. it is curious -- is it not?