Sherlock Holmes complete collection by sir arthur conan doyle

The Hound of the Baskervilles Chapter 1 MR. SHERLOCK HOLMES

MR. SHERLOCK HOLMES, who was usually very late in the mornings,save upon those not infrequent occasions when he was up all night, wasseated at the breakfast table. I stood upon the hearth-rug and picked upthe stick which our visitor had left behind him the night before. It was afine, thick piece of wood, bulbous-headed, of the sort which is known as a"Penang lawyer." Just under the head was a broad silver band, nearly aninch across. "To James Mortimer, M.R.C.S., from his friends of the C.C.H.," was engraved upon it, with the date "1884." It was just such a stickas the old-fashioned family practitioner used to carry-dignified, solid, andreassuring."Well, Watson, what do you make of it?"Holmes was sitting with his back to me, and I had given him no sign ofmy occupation."How did you know what I was doing? I believe you have eyes in theback of your head.""I have, at least, a well-polished, silver-plated coffee-pot in front ofme," said he. "But, tell me, Watson, what do you make of our visitor'sstick? Since we have been so unfortunate as to miss him and have nonotion of his errand, this accidental souvenir becomes of importance. Letme hear you reconstruct the man by an examination of it.""I think," said I, following as far as I could the methods of mycompanion, "that Dr. Mortimer is a successful, elderly medical man, wellesteemed, since those who know him give him this mark of theirappreciation.""Good!" said Holmes. "Excellent!""I think also that the probability is in favour of his being a countrypractitioner who does a great deal of his visiting on foot.""Why so?""Because this stick, though originally a very handsome one, has beenso knocked about that I can hardly imagine a town practitioner carrying it.The thick iron ferrule is worn down, so it is evident that he has done agreat amount of walking with it.""Perfectly sound!" said Holmes."And then again, there is the 'friends of the C.C.H.' I should guess thatto be the Something Hunt, the local hunt to whose members he haspossibly given some surgical assistance, and which has made him a smallpresentation in return.""Really, Watson, you excel yourself," said Holmes, pushing back hischair and lighting a cigarette. "I am bound to say that in all the accounts which you have been so good as to give of my own small achievementsyou have habitually underrated your own abilities. It may be that you arenot yourself luminous, but you are a conductor of light. Some peoplewithout possessing genius have a remarkable power of stimulating it. Iconfess, my dear fellow, that I am very much in your debt."[670] He had never said as much before, and I must admit that his wordsgave me keen pleasure, for I had often been piqued by his indifference tomy admiration and to the attempts which I had made to give publicity tohis methods. I was proud, too, to think that I had so far mastered hissystem as to apply it in a way which earned his approval. He now took thestick from my hands and examined it for a few minutes with his nakedeyes. Then with an expression of interest he laid down his cigarette, and,carrying the cane to the window, he looked over it again with a convexlens."Interesting, though elementary," said he as he returned to his favouritecorner of the settee. "There are certainly one or two indications upon thestick. It gives us the basis for several deductions.""Has anything escaped me?" I asked with some self-importance. "Itrust that there is nothing of consequence which I have overlooked?""I am afraid, my dear Watson, that most of your conclusions wereerroneous. When I said that you stimulated me I meant, to be frank, thatin noting your fallacies I was occasionally guided towards the truth. Notthat you are entirely wrong in this instance. The man is certainly acountry practitioner. And he walks a good deal.""Then I was right.""To that extent.""But that was all." "No, no, my dear Watson, not all-by no means all. I would suggest, forexample, that a presentation to a doctor is more likely to come from ahospital than from a hunt, and that when the initials 'C.C.' are placedbefore that hospital the words 'Charing Cross' very naturally suggestthemselves.""You may be right.""The probability lies in that direction. And if we take this as a workinghypothesis we have a fresh basis from which to start our construction ofthis unknown visitor.""Well, then, supposing that 'C.C.H.' does stand for 'Charing CrossHospital,' what further inferences may we draw?""Do none suggest themselves? You know my methods. Apply them!""I can only think of the obvious conclusion that the man has practisedin town before going to the country.""I think that we might venture a little farther than this. Look at it in thislight. On what occasion would it be most probable that such apresentation would be made? When would his friends unite to give him apledge of their good will? Obviously at the moment when Dr. Mortimerwithdrew from the service of the hospital in order to start in practice forhimself. We know there has been a presentation. We believe there hasbeen a change from a town hospital to a country practice. Is it, then,stretching our inference too far to say that the presentation was on theoccasion of the change?""It certainly seems probable.""Now, you will observe that he could not have been on the staff of thehospital, since only a man well-established in a London practice couldhold such a position, and such a one would not drift into the country.What was he, then? If he was in the hospital and yet not on the staff hecould only have been a house-surgeon or a house-physician-little morethan a senior student. And he left five years ago-the date is on the stick.So your grave, middle-aged family practitioner vanishes into [671] thinair, my dear Watson, and there emerges a young fellow under thirty,amiable, unambitious, absent-minded, and the possessor of a favouritedog, which I should describe roughly as being larger than a terrier andsmaller than a mastiff."I laughed incredulously as Sherlock Holmes leaned back in his setteeand blew little wavering rings of smoke up to the ceiling."As to the latter part, I have no means of checking you," said I, "but atleast it is not difficult to find out a few particulars about the man's ageand professional career." From my small medical shelf I took down theMedical Directory and turned up the name. There were severalMortimers, but only one who could be our visitor. I read his record aloud."Mortimer, James, M.R.C.S., 1882, Grimpen, Dartmoor, Devon.House surgeon, from 1882 to 1884, at Charing Cross Hospital.Winner of the Jackson prize for Comparative Pathology, withessay entitled 'Is Disease a Reversion?' Corresponding member ofthe Swedish Pathological Society. Author of 'Some Freaks ofAtavism' (Lancet, 1882). 'Do We Progress?' (Journal of Psychology, March, 1883). Medical Officer for the parishes ofGrimpen, Thorsley, and High Barrow.""No mention of that local hunt, Watson," said Holmes with amischievous smile, "but a country doctor, as you very astutely observed. Ithink that I am fairly justified in my inferences. As to the adjectives, Isaid, if I remember right, amiable, unambitious, and absent-minded. It ismy experience that it is only an amiable man in this world who receivestestimonials, only an unambitious one who abandons a London career forthe country, and only an absent-minded one who leaves his stick and nothis visiting-card after waiting an hour in your room.""And the dog?""Has been in the habit of carrying this stick behind his master. Being aheavy stick the dog has held it tightly by the middle, and the marks of histeeth are very plainly visible. The dog's jaw, as shown in the spacebetween these marks, is too broad in my opinion for a terrier and notbroad enough for a mastiff. It may have been-yes, by Jove, it is a curlyhaired spaniel."He had risen and paced the room as he spoke. Now he halted in therecess of the window. There was such a ring of conviction in his voicethat I glanced up in surprise."My dear fellow, how can you possibly be so sure of that?""For the very simple reason that I see the dog himself on our very doorstep, and there is the ring of its owner. Don't move, I beg you, Watson.He is a professional brother of yours, and your presence may be ofassistance to me. Now is the dramatic moment of fate, Watson, when youhear a step upon the stair which is walking into your life, and you knownot whether for good or ill. What does Dr. James Mortimer, the man ofscience, ask of Sherlock Holmes, the specialist in crime? Come in!"The appearance of our visitor was a surprise to me, since I hadexpected a typical country practitioner. He was a very tall, thin man, witha long nose like a beak, which jutted out between two keen, gray eyes, setclosely together and sparkling brightly from behind a pair of gold-rimmedglasses. He was clad in a professional but rather slovenly fashion, for hisfrock-coat was dingy and his trousers frayed. Though young, his longback was already bowed, and he walked with a forward thrust of his headand a general air of peering benevolence. As he entered [672] his eyes fellupon the stick in Holmes's hand, and he ran towards it with anexclamation of joy. "I am so very glad," said he. "I was not sure whether Ihad left it here or in the Shipping Office. I would not lose that stick forthe world.""A presentation, I see," said Holmes."Yes, sir.""From Charing Cross Hospital?""From one or two friends there on the occasion of my marriage.""Dear, dear, that's bad!" said Holmes, shaking his head.Dr. Mortimer blinked through his glasses in mild astonishment."Why was it bad?""Only that you have disarranged our little deductions. Your marriage,you say?""Yes, sir. I married, and so left the hospital, and with it all hopes of aconsulting practice. It was necessary to make a home of my own.""Come, come, we are not so far wrong, after all," said Holmes. "Andnow, Dr. James Mortimer- -""Mister, sir, Mister-a humble M.R.C.S." "And a man of precise mind, evidently.""A dabbler in science, Mr. Holmes, a picker up of shells on the shoresof the great unknown ocean. I presume that it is Mr. Sherlock Holmeswhom I am addressing and not- -""No, this is my friend Dr. Watson.""Glad to meet you, sir. I have heard your name mentioned inconnection with that of your friend. You interest me very much, Mr.Holmes. I had hardly expected so dolichocephalic a skull or such wellmarked supra-orbital development. Would you have any objection to myrunning my finger along your parietal fissure? A cast of your skull, sir,until the original is available, would be an ornament to anyanthropological museum. It is not my intention to be fulsome, but Iconfess that I covet your skull."Sherlock Holmes waved our strange visitor into a chair. "You are anenthusiast in your line of thought, I perceive, sir, as I am in mine," saidhe. "I observe from your forefinger that you make your own cigarettes.Have no hesitation in lighting one."The man drew out paper and tobacco and twirled the one up in theother with surprising dexterity. He had long, quivering fingers as agileand restless as the antennae of an insect.Holmes was silent, but his little darting glances showed me the interestwhich he took in our curious companion."I presume, sir," said he at last, "that it was not merely for the purposeof examining my skull that you have done me the honour to call here lastnight and again to-day?""No, sir, no; though I am happy to have had the opportunity of doingthat as well. I came to you, Mr. Holmes, because I recognized that I ammyself an unpractical man and because I am suddenly confronted with amost serious and extraordinary problem. Recognizing, as I do, that youare the second highest expert in Europe- -""Indeed, sir! May I inquire who has the honour to be the first?" askedHolmes with some asperity."To the man of precisely scientific mind the work of MonsieurBertillon must always appeal strongly."[673] "Then had you not better consult him?""I said, sir, to the precisely scientific mind. But as a practical man ofaffairs it is acknowledged that you stand alone. I trust, sir, that I have notinadvertently- -""Just a little," said Holmes. "I think, Dr. Mortimer, you would dowisely if without more ado you would kindly tell me plainly what theexact nature of the problem is in which you demand my assistance."