beard,

and a great, aggressive hooked nose, and flourishing a cane

as he walked. he swaggered up the path as if the place

belonged to him, and we heard his loud, confident peal at

the bell.

"i think, gentlemen," said holmes, quietly, "that we had

best take up our position behind the door. every

precaution is necessary when dealing with such a fellow.

you will need your handcuffs, inspector. you can leave the

talking to me."

we waited in silence for a minute -- one of those minutes

which one can never forget. then the door opened and the

man stepped in. in an instant holmes clapped a pistol to

his head and martin slipped the handcuffs over his wrists.

it was all done so swiftly and deftly that the fellow was

helpless before he knew that he was attacked. he glared

from one to the other of us with a pair of blazing black

eyes. then he burst into a bitter laugh.

"well, gentlemen, you have the drop on me this time. i

seem to have knocked up against something hard. but i came

here in answer to a letter from mrs. hilton cubitt. don't

tell me that she is in this? don't tell me that she helped

to set a trap for me?"

"mrs. hilton cubitt was seriously injured and is at death's

door."

the man gave a hoarse cry of grief which rang through the

house.

"you're crazy!" he cried, fiercely. "it was he that was

hurt, not she. who would have hurt little elsie? i may

have threatened her, god forgive me, but i would not have

touched a hair of her pretty head. take it back -- you!

say that she is not hurt!"

"she was found badly wounded by the side of her dead

husband."

he sank with a deep groan on to the settee and buried his

face in his manacled hands. for five minutes he was

silent. then he raised his face once more, and spoke with

the cold composure of despair.

"i have nothing to hide from you, gentlemen," said he. "if

i shot the man he had his shot at me, and there's no murder

in that. but if you think i could have hurt that woman,

then you don't know either me or her. i tell you there was

never a man in this world loved a woman more than i loved

her. i had a right to her. she was pledged to me years

ago. who was this englishman that he should come between

us? i tell you that i had the first right to her, and that

i was only claiming my own."

"she broke away from your influence when she found the man

that you are," said holmes, sternly. "she fled from

america to avoid you, and she married an honourable

gentleman in england. you dogged her and followed her and

made her life a misery to her in order to induce her to

abandon the husband whom she loved and respected in order

to fly with you, whom she feared and hated. you have ended

by bringing about the death of a noble man and driving his

wife to suicide. that is your record in this business, mr.

abe slaney, and you will answer for it to the law."

"if elsie dies i care nothing what becomes of me," said the

american. he opened one of his hands and looked at a note

crumpled up in his palm. "see here, mister," he cried,

with a gleam of suspicion in his eyes, "you're not trying

to scare me over this, are you? if the lady is hurt as bad

as you say, who was it that wrote this note?" he tossed it

forwards on to the table.

"i wrote it to bring you here."

"you wrote it? there was no one on earth outside the joint

who knew the secret of the dancing men. how came you to

write it?"

"what one man can invent another can discover," said

holmes. "there is a cab coming to convey you to norwich,

mr. slaney. but, meanwhile, you have time to make some

small reparation for the injury you have wrought. are you

aware that mrs. hilton cubitt has herself lain under grave

suspicion of the murder of her husband, and that it was

only my presence here and the knowledge which i happened to

possess which has saved her from the accusation? the least

that you owe her is to make it clear to the whole world

that she was in no way, directly or indirectly, responsible

for his tragic end."

"i ask nothing better," said the american. "i guess the

very best case i can make for myself is the absolute naked

truth."

"it is my duty to warn you that it will be used against

you," cried the inspector, with the magnificent fair-play

of the british criminal law.

slaney shrugged his shoulders.

"i'll chance that," said he. "first of all, i want you

gentlemen to understand that i have known this lady since

she was a child. there were seven of us in a gang in

chicago, and elsie's father was the boss of the joint. he

was a clever man, was old patrick. it was he who invented

that writing, which would pass as a child's scrawl unless

you just happened to have the key to it. well, elsie

learned some of our ways; but she couldn't stand the

business, and she had a bit of honest money of her