arkable account," said Sherlock Holmes. "A fitting wind-up
to an extremely interesting case. There is nothing at all new to me in
the latter part of your narrative, except that you brought your own
rope. That I did not know. By the way, I had hoped that Tonga had
lost all his darts; yet he managed to shoot one at us in the boat."

"He had lost them all, sir, except the one which was in his blow-pipe
at the time."

"Ah, of course," said Holmes. "I had not thought of that."

"Is there any other point which you would like to ask about?" asked the
convict, affably.

"I think not, thank you," my companion answered.

"Well, Holmes," said Athelney Jones, "You are a man to be humored, and
we all know that you are a connoisseur of crime, but duty is duty, and
I have gone rather far in doing what you and your friend asked me. I
shall feel more at ease when we have our story-teller here safe under
lock and key. The cab still waits, and there are two inspectors
down-stairs. I am much obliged to you both for your assistance. Of
course you will be wanted at the trial. Good-night to you."

"Good-night, gentlemen both," said Jonathan Small.

"You first, Small," remarked the wary Jones as they left the room.
"I'll take particular care that you don't club me with your wooden leg,
whatever you may have done to the gentleman at the Andaman Isles."

"Well, and there is the end of our little drama," I remarked, after we
had set some time smoking in silence. "I fear that it may be the last
investigation in which I shall have the chance of studying your
methods. Miss Morstan has done me the honor to accept me as a husband
in prospective."

He gave a most dismal groan. "I feared as much," said he. "I really
cannot congratulate you."

I was a little hurt. "Have you any reason to be dissatisfied with my
choice?" I asked.

"Not at all. I think she is one of the most charming young ladies I
ever met, and might have been most useful in such work as we have been
doing. She had a decided genius that way: witness the way in which she
preserved that Agra plan from all the other papers of her father. But
love is an emotional thing, and whatever is emotional is opposed to
that true cold reason which I place above all things. I should never
marry myself, lest I bias my judgment."

"I trust," said I, laughing, "that my judgment may survive the ordeal.
But you look weary."

"Yes, the reaction is already upon me. I shall be