e at Hedge-gutheridge, because you've got a ticket
marked to that place sticking out of your vest-pocket; I knew that you
do lots of writing, for the perfectly obvious reason that you have ink
smeared over the thumb and first two fingers of your right hand; I
knew that you belong to the Fraternal Order of Zebras, because I can
see an F. O. Z. watch-charm on your pocket; and, finally, I knew that
you scraped the incipient spinach off your mug very rapidly this
morning because I can see three large recent razor-cuts on your chin
and jaws! Perfectly easy when you know how!" And old Hemlock winked at
me. "So spill out your little story to me, one mouthful at a time, and
don't get all balled up while you're telling it either,--or eyether."

Our visitor gasped again in amazement, handed Holmes his card, and
began:

"Well, my name is Eustace Thorneycroft, private secretary to George
Arthur Percival Chauncey Dunderhaugh, the ninth Earl of Puddingham,
who lives at Normanstow Towers, near Hedge-gutheridge, over in Surrey.
As you are probably aware, the Earl's most precious treasure is,--or,
rather, are the six pairs of fancy, diamond-studded, gold cuff-buttons
that His Majesty King George I presented to his ancestor, Reginald
Bertram Dunderhaugh, the second Earl of Puddingham, upon King George's
accession to the British throne in the year 1714.

"It is an historical fact that King George paid twenty-four hundred
pounds for the six pairs of cuff-buttons,--their value being
considerably greater now,--and the diamond in each one is as large as
the end of a man's thumb; so you can see at once how very valuable
they are, to say nothing of the sentimental value of having been a
present from a king to the Earl's ancestor two centuries ago."

"Oh, yes; I have heard about the Puddingham cuff-buttons," said
Holmes, as he reached over, and grabbing the cigarette I had just
rolled, calmly stuck it in his own mouth, and lit it. "Old King George
I had no more taste than a Pittsburg millionaire! But go on with your
little yarn."

Thorneycroft continued, occasionally taking a bite out of one of the
apples Holmes had offered him:

"Well, just this Easter Monday morning, when the Earl was being
dressed by his valet, an Italian named Luigi Vermicelli, he noticed
with horror that his nice pink-and-green silk shirt, lying over the
back of the mahogany arm-chair beside his bed, had the ancestral
cuff-buttons missing from the cuffs!

"He is ab