I was never more convincing. He

actually picked up my parasol for me once. 'By your leave,

madame,' said he -- half-ltalian, you know, and with the South-

ern graces of manner when in the mood, but a devil incarnate in

the other mood. Life is full of whimsical happenings, Watson."

  "It might have been tragedy."

  "Well, perhaps it might. I followed him to old Straubenzee's

workshop in the Minories. Straubenzee made the air-gun -- a very

pretty bit of work, as I understand, and I rather fancy it is in the

opposite window at the present moment. Have you seen the

dummy? Of course, Billy showed it to you. Well, it may get a

bullet through its beautiful head at any moment. Ah, Billy, what

is it?"

  The boy had reappeared in the room with a card upon a tray.

Holmes glanced at it with raised eyebrows and an amused smile.

  "The man himself. I had hardly expected this. Grasp the

nettle, Watson! A man of nerve. Possibly you have heard of his

reputation as a shooter of big game. It would indeed be a

triumphant ending to his excellent sporting record if he added me

to his bag. This is a proof that he feels my toe very close behind

his heel."

  "Send for the police."

  "I probably shall. But not just yet. Would you glance care-

fully out of the window, Watson, and see if anyone is hanging

about in the street?"

  Watson looked warily round the edge of the curtain.

  "Yes, there is one rough fellow near the door."

  "That will be Sam Merton -- the faithful but rather fatuous

Sam. Where is this gentleman, Billy?"

  "In the waiting-room, sir."

  "Show him up when I ring."

  "Yes,sir."

  "If I am not in the room, show him in all the same."

  "Yes, sir."

  Watson waited until the door was closed, and then he turned

earnestly to his companion.

  "Look here, Holmes, this is simply impossible. This is a

desperate man, who sticks at nothing. He may have come to

murder you."

  "I should not be surprised."

  "I insist upon staying with you."

  "You would be horribly in the way."

  "In his way?"

  "No, my dear fellow -- in my way."

  "Well, I can't possibly leave you."

  "Yes, you can, Watson. And you will, for you have never failed

to play the game. I am sure you will play it to the end. This man

has come for his own purpose, but he may stay for mine."

  Holmes took out his notebook and scribbled a few lines. "Take a

cab to Scotland Yard and give this to Youghal of the C. I. D.

Come back with the police. The fellow's arrest will follow."

  "I'll do that with joy.

  "Before you return I may have just time enough to find out

where the stone is." He touched the bell. "I think we will go out

through the bedroom. This second exit is exceedingly useful. I

rather want to see my shark without his seeing me, and I have,

as you will remember, my own way of doing it."

  It was, therefore, an empty room into which Billy, a minute

later, ushered Count Sylvius. The famous game-shot, sportsman,

and man-about-town was a big, swarthy fellow, with a formida-

ble dark moustache shading a cruel, thin-lipped mouth, and

surmounted by a long, curved nose like the beak of an eagle.