the architecture of the house.
I could tell from his expression that he was on a hot scent, and yet I
could not in the least imagine in what direction his inferences were
leading him.

"My good sir," said Mr. Cunningham, with some impatience, "this is
surely very unnecessary. That is my room at the end of the stairs, and
my son's is the one beyond it. I leave it to your judgment whether it
was possible for the thief to have come up here without disturbing us."

"You must try round and get on a fresh scent, I fancy," said the son,
with a rather malicious smile.

"Still, I must ask you to humour me a little further. I should like, for
example, to see how far the windows of the bedrooms command the front.
This, I understand, is your son's room"--he pushed open the door--"and
that, I presume, is the dressing-room in which he sat smoking when the
alarm was given. Where does the window of that look out to?" He stepped
across the bedroom, pushed open the door, and glanced round the other
chamber.

"I hope you are satisfied now?" said Mr. Cunningham, testily.

"Thank you; I think I have seen all that I wished."

"Then, if it is really necessary, we can go into my room."

"If it is not too much trouble."

The J.P. shrugged his shoulders, and led the way into his own chamber,
which was a plainly furnished and commonplace room. As we moved across
it in the direction of the window, Holmes fell back until he and I were
the last of the group. Near the foot of the bed was a small square
table, on which stood a dish of oranges and a carafe of water. As we
passed it, Holmes, to my unutterable astonishment, leaned over in front
of me and deliberately knocked the whole thing over. The glass smashed
into a thousand pieces, and the fruit rolled about into every corner of
the room.

[Illustration: "HE DELIBERATELY KNOCKED THE WHOLE THING OVER."]

"You've done it now, Watson," said he, coolly. "A pretty mess you've
made of the carpet."

I stooped in some confusion and began to pick up the fruit,
understanding that for some reason my companion desired me to take the
blame upon myself. The others did the same, and set the table on its
legs again.

"Halloa!" cried the Inspector, "where's he got to?"

Holmes had disappeared.

"Wait here an instant," said young Alec Cunningham. "The fellow is off
his head, in my opinion. Come with me, father, and see where he has got
to!"

They rushed out of the room, leaving the Inspector, the