o call upon me this morning,
and to begin a narrative which promises to be one of the most singular
which I have listened to for some time. You have heard me remark that
the strangest and most unique things are very often connected not with
the larger but with the smaller crimes, and occasionally, indeed, where
there is room for doubt whether any positive crime has been committed.
As far as I have heard, it is impossible for me to say whether the
present case is an instance of crime or not, but the course of events is
certainly among the most singular that I have ever listened to. Perhaps,
Mr. Wilson, you would have the great kindness to recommence your
narrative. I ask you, not merely because my friend, Dr. Watson, has not
heard the opening part, but also because the peculiar nature of the
story makes me anxious to have every possible detail from your lips. As
a rule, when I have heard some slight indication of the course of events
I am able to guide myself by the thousands of other similar cases which
occur to my memory. In the present instance I am forced to admit that
the facts are, to the best of my belief, unique."

The portly client puffed out his chest with an appearance of some little
pride, and pulled a dirty and wrinkled newspaper from the inside pocket
of his greatcoat. As he glanced down the advertisement column, with his
head thrust forward, and the paper flattened out upon his knee, I took a
good look at the man, and endeavored, after the fashion of my
companion, to read the indications which might be presented by his
dress or appearance.

I did not gain very much, however, by my inspection. Our visitor bore
every mark of being an average commonplace British tradesman, obese,
pompous, and slow. He wore rather baggy gray shepherd's check trousers,
a not over-clean black frock-coat, unbuttoned in the front, and a drab
waistcoat with a heavy brassy Albert chain, and a square pierced bit of
metal dangling down as an ornament. A frayed top hat and a faded brown
overcoat with a wrinkled velvet collar lay upon a chair beside him.
Altogether, look as I would, there was nothing remarkable about the man
save his blazing red head and the expression of extreme chagrin and
discontent upon his features.

Sherlock Holmes' quick eye took in my occupation, and he shook his head
with a smile as he noticed my questioning glances. "Beyond the obvious
facts that he has at some time done manual labor, that he takes snuff,
t