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"Oh, certainly, certainly," answered Mr. Baker with a sigh of relief. |
"Of course, we still have the feathers, legs, crop, and so on of your |
own bird, so if you wish--" |
The man burst into a hearty laugh. "They might be useful to me as |
relics of my adventure," said he, "but beyond that I can hardly see |
what use the disjecta membra of my late acquaintance are going to be |
to me. No, sir, I think that, with your permission, I will confine my |
attentions to the excellent bird which I perceive upon the |
sideboard." |
Sherlock Holmes glanced sharply across at me with a slight shrug of |
his shoulders. |
"There is your hat, then, and there your bird," said he. "By the way, |
would it bore you to tell me where you got the other one from? I am |
somewhat of a fowl fancier, and I have seldom seen a better grown |
goose." |
"Certainly, sir," said Baker, who had risen and tucked his newly |
gained property under his arm. "There are a few of us who frequent |
the Alpha Inn, near the Museum--we are to be found in the Museum |
itself during the day, you understand. This year our good host, |
Windigate by name, instituted a goose club, by which, on |
consideration of some few pence every week, we were each to receive a |
bird at Christmas. My pence were duly paid, and the rest is familiar |
to you. I am much indebted to you, sir, for a Scotch bonnet is fitted |
neither to my years nor my gravity." With a comical pomposity of |
manner he bowed solemnly to both of us and strode off upon his way. |
"So much for Mr. Henry Baker," said Holmes when he had closed the |
door behind him. "It is quite certain that he knows nothing whatever |
about the matter. Are you hungry, Watson?" |
"Not particularly." |
"Then I suggest that we turn our dinner into a supper and follow up |
this clue while it is still hot." |
"By all means." |
It was a bitter night, so we drew on our ulsters and wrapped cravats |
about our throats. Outside, the stars were shining coldly in a |
cloudless sky, and the breath of the passers-by blew out into smoke |
like so many pistol shots. Our footfalls rang out crisply and loudly |
as we swung through the doctors' quarter, Wimpole Street, Harley |
Street, and so through Wigmore Street into Oxford Street. In a |
quarter of an hour we were in Bloomsbury at the Alpha Inn, which is a |
small public-house at the corner of one of the streets which runs |
down into Holborn. Holmes pushed open the door of the private bar and |
ordered two glasses of beer from the ruddy-faced, white-aproned |
landlord. |
"Your beer should be excellent if it is as good as your geese," said |
he. |
"My geese!" The man seemed surprised. |
"Yes. I was speaking only half an hour ago to Mr. Henry Baker, who |
was a member of your goose club." |
"Ah! yes, I see. But you see, sir, them's not our geese." |
"Indeed! Whose, then?" |
"Well, I got the two dozen from a salesman in Covent Garden." |
"Indeed? I know some of them. Which was it?" |
"Breckinridge is his name." |
"Ah! I don't know him. Well, here's your good health landlord, and |
prosperity to your house. Good-night." |
"Now for Mr. Breckinridge," he continued, buttoning up his coat as we |
came out into the frosty air. "Remember, Watson that though we have |
so homely a thing as a goose at one end of this chain, we have at the |
other a man who will certainly get seven years' penal servitude |
unless we can establish his innocence. It is possible that our |
inquiry may but confirm his guilt; but, in any case, we have a line |
of investigation which has been missed by the police, and which a |
singular chance has placed in our hands. Let us follow it out to the |
bitter end. Faces to the south, then, and quick march!" |
We passed across Holborn, down Endell Street, and so through a zigzag |
of slums to Covent Garden Market. One of the largest stalls bore the |
name of Breckinridge upon it, and the proprietor a horsey-looking |
man, with a sharp face and trim side-whiskers was helping a boy to |
put up the shutters. |
"Good-evening. It's a cold night," said Holmes. |
The salesman nodded and shot a questioning glance at my companion. |
"Sold out of geese, I see," continued Holmes, pointing at the bare |
slabs of marble. |
"Let you have five hundred to-morrow morning." |
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