such talk as that, when I knew it was my duty to rise up and paste him
one in the eye for his sarcasms.

CHAPTER II

As Holmes and I were sitting down to luncheon at twelve-thirty that
noon, and Mrs. Hudson, our old reliable landlady, was placing a fried
pork-chop on my plate, we were again startled at hearing a terrific
banging at the front door. The rain had died down somewhat, but it was
still cloudy and disagreeable outside. In a moment more our own door
was thrust open, and another visitor,--a young man of about
thirty,--butted in on our privacy.

"Oh, I'm sure I beg your pardon, gentlemen," said this guy as he
entered, "but I am Lord Launcelot Dunderhaugh, younger brother of the
Earl of Puddingham, whose secretary, Mr. Thorneycroft, was here this
morning. I came to tell you that since his return, two more pairs of
those historic cuff-buttons have been stolen, and to see that you come
out to the castle on the one-twenty-two train without fail!"

"Hum, that's hard lines, ain't it, Launcelot?" said Holmes, as he
waved him to a chair; "you'll excuse us if Watson and I go on with our
luncheon while you talk. Got any idea who lifted the second and third
pair,--any clues at all to the guilty wretches?"

"No, Mr. Holmes; I really haven't," replied Lord Launcelot, as he sat
down. "It's quite annoying to have to think about such a disconcerting
event, so much out of my usual line, doncherknow."

And the Earl's brother contemplated the floor in gloomy silence for
the next twenty-five minutes, while H. H. and I were feeding our
faces.

When we had finished and had lit a couple of cigarettes, Holmes,
handing one to Launcelot, said:

"Well, it's just one o'clock. Time to beat it, boys!"

"All right, Mr. Holmes, I'm your man," said our visitor.

And, the rain having stopped now, we left the house together, after
hurriedly packing a few things in our suit-case.

We soon arrived at the station, where we boarded the Surrey train. No
further word could be got out of our noble companion as we sped
through the southern London suburbs and along the country
landscape,--not even after the April sun had straggled through the
clouds and begun to brighten up the scene.

"Ax-gibberish!" yelled the guard,--or words to that effect,--as he
slammed open the door of our compartment, and the train slowed down
and at length stopped in front of a dinky little two-by-four station,
with a cluster of worm-eaten old houses and a c