me! Door locked, I understand. Jewels worth half a
million missing. How was the window?"

"Fastened; but there are steps on the sill."

"Well, well, if it was fastened the steps could have nothing to do with
the matter. That's common sense. Man might have died in a fit; but
then the jewels are missing. Ha! I have a theory. These flashes come
upon me at times.--Just step outside, sergeant, and you, Mr. Sholto.
Your friend can remain.--What do you think of this, Holmes? Sholto
was, on his own confession, with his brother last night. The brother
died in a fit, on which Sholto walked off with the treasure. How's
that?"

"On which the dead man very considerately got up and locked the door on
the inside."

"Hum! There's a flaw there. Let us apply common sense to the matter.
This Thaddeus Sholto WAS with his brother; there WAS a quarrel; so much
we know. The brother is dead and the jewels are gone. So much also we
know. No one saw the brother from the time Thaddeus left him. His bed
had not been slept in. Thaddeus is evidently in a most disturbed state
of mind. His appearance is--well, not attractive. You see that I am
weaving my web round Thaddeus. The net begins to close upon him."

"You are not quite in possession of the facts yet," said Holmes. "This
splinter of wood, which I have every reason to believe to be poisoned,
was in the man's scalp where you still see the mark; this card,
inscribed as you see it, was on the table; and beside it lay this
rather curious stone-headed instrument. How does all that fit into
your theory?"

"Confirms it in every respect," said the fat detective, pompously.
"House is full of Indian curiosities. Thaddeus brought this up, and if
this splinter be poisonous Thaddeus may as well have made murderous use
of it as any other man. The card is some hocus-pocus,--a blind, as
like as not. The only question is, how did he depart? Ah, of course,
here is a hole in the roof." With great activity, considering his
bulk, he sprang up the steps and squeezed through into the garret, and
immediately afterwards we heard his exulting voice proclaiming that he
had found the trap-door.

"He can find something," remarked Holmes, shrugging his shoulders. "He
has occasional glimmerings of reason. Il n'y a pas des sots si
incommodes que ceux qui ont de l'esprit!"

"You see!" said Athelney Jones, reappearing down the steps again.
"Facts are better than mere theories, after all.