atter up, but we find a little
difficulty in getting anything to work upon. We have, of course, wired
to the Belfast post-office, but a large number of parcels were handed in
upon that day, and they have no means of identifying this particular
one, or of remembering the sender. The box is a half-pound box of
honeydew tobacco, and does not help us in any way. The medical student
theory still appears to me to be the most feasible, but if you should
have a few hours to spare, I should be very happy to see you out here. I
shall be either at the house or in the police-station all day.' What say
you, Watson? Can you rise superior to the heat, and run down to Croydon
with me on the off chance of a case for your annals?"

"I was longing for something to do."

"You shall have it, then. Ring for our boots, and tell them to order a
cab. I'll be back in a moment, when I have changed my dressing-gown and
filled my cigar-case."

A shower of rain fell while we were in the train, and the heat was far
less oppressive in Croydon than in town. Holmes had sent on a wire, so
that Lestrade, as wiry, as dapper, and as ferret-like as ever, was,
waiting for us at the station. A walk of five minutes took us to Cross
Street, where Miss Cushing resided.

[Illustration: "MISS CUSHING."]

It was a very long street of two-story brick houses, neat and prim, with
whitened stone steps and little groups of aproned women gossiping at
the doors. Half-way down, Lestrade stopped and tapped at a door, which
was opened by a small servant girl. Miss Cushing was sitting in the
front room, into which we were ushered. She was a placid-faced woman
with large, gentle eyes, and grizzled hair curving down over her temples
on each side. A worked antimacassar lay upon her lap and a basket of
coloured silks stood upon a stool beside her.

"They are in the outhouse, those dreadful things," said she, as Lestrade
entered. "I wish that you would take them away altogether."

"So I shall, Miss Cushing. I only kept them here until my friend, Mr.
Holmes, should have seen them in your presence."

"Why in my presence, sir?"

"In case he wished to ask any questions."

"What is the use of asking me questions, when I tell you that I know
nothing whatever about it?"

"Quite so, madam," said Holmes, in his soothing way. "I have no doubt
that you have been annoyed more than enough already over this business."

"Indeed, I have, sir. I am a quiet woman and live a retired lif