ouple of sloppy-looking
store buildings near it that looked as if they had all been erected
prior to the Norman Conquest, or even possibly antedated the Christian
era.

"Well, I guess this must be Hedge-gutheridge all right, in spite of
the guard's mispronunciation of its euphonious name," remarked Holmes,
stepping off the train onto the decayed platform, which sagged
perilously under his athletic tread.

As Launcelot and I followed suit, a short, nervous-looking man of
about thirty-five, with a florid countenance, rushed out of the
ancient station toward us, and shouted:

"O Launcie, Launcie, misfortune has followed misfortune upon our
venerable family of Dunderhaugh this miserable day! Two more pairs of
those cuff-buttons have been abstracted during your absence, making
five pairs in all that are gone! I suppose this is the eminent Mr.
Holmes?"

And the noble Earl of Puddingham hurriedly shook hands with my boss.

"Right you are, Your Lordship," said Holmes, "and here is the
egregious Dr. Watson, also at your service. You see, he's my old
side-kicker, and I couldn't think of entering upon a crook-chase
without him tagging along after me to write it up in well-chosen
language. Do you get me, Steve? And, say, don't worry about the
cuff-buttons. We'll find 'em all right."

"Assuredly, Mr. Holmes," said the Earl, as we all stepped into a coach
that was waiting back of the station, with Launcelot more gloomy and
depressed than ever.

"Home, Olaf! And get a move on!" This to the fat little coachman who
drove the ancestral chariot.

"Ay bane get there pooty qvick, Your Lordship," said that Norwegian
worthy, as he whipped up the horses, and in five minutes' time we had
dashed up to a large and imposing stone castle with round towers at
each corner,--apparently about five hundred years old and five stories
high,--surrounded by an extensive garden and park, with a small woods
in the rear: just the kind you read about, with green gobs of ivy
hanging down over the gray walls.

"Well, here we are, my friends," said the Earl, as he stepped out;
while two footmen in light green livery assisted us to alight. "Let's
see if I've still got the sixth and last pair of my diamond
cuff-buttons safe here."

He fumbled with his cuffs a moment, and added:

"Yes, they're still here. What with Lloyd-George soaking all the
British nobility with his preposterous income-tax, and everything
going to the demnition bow-wows generally,