I confess that I covet your skull."

Sherlock Holmes waved our strange visitor into a chair. "You are
an enthusiast in your line of thought, I perceive, sir, as I am
in mine," said he. "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 the
other with surprising dexterity. He had long, quivering fingers
as agile and restless as the antennae of an insect.

Holmes was silent, but his little darting glances showed me the
interest which he took in our curious companion.

"I presume, sir," said he at last, "that it was not merely for
the purpose of examining my skull that you have done me the
honour to call here last night and again to-day?"

"No, sir, no; though I am happy to have had the opportunity of
doing that as well. I came to you, Mr. Holmes, because I
recognized that I am myself an unpractical man and because I am
suddenly confronted with a most serious and extraordinary
problem. Recognizing, as I do, that you are the second highest
expert in Europe ------"

"Indeed, sir! May I inquire who has the honour to be the first?"
asked Holmes with some asperity.

"To the man of precisely scientific mind the work of Monsieur
Bertillon must always appeal strongly."

"Then had you not better consult him?"

"I said, sir, to the precisely scientific mind. But as a
practical man of affairs it is acknowledged that you stand alone.
I trust, sir, that I have not inadvertently ------"

"Just a little," said Holmes. "I think, Dr. Mortimer, you would
do wisely if without more ado you would kindly tell me plainly
what the exact nature of the problem is in which you demand my
assistance."

Chapter 2

The Curse of the Baskervilles

"I have in my pocket a manuscript," said Dr. James Mortimer.

"I observed it as you entered the room," said Holmes.

"It is an old manuscript."

"Early eighteenth century, unless it is a forgery."

"How can you say that, sir?"

"You have presented an inch or two of it to my examination all
the time that you have been talking. It would be a poor expert
who could not give the date of a document within a decade or so.
You may possibly have read my little monograph upon the subject.
I put that at 1730."

"The exact date is 1742." Dr. Mortimer drew it from his
breast-pocket. "This family paper was committed to my care by Sir
Charles Baskerville, whose sudden and tragic