His head is as quick as his fingers. I’ve been on his trail for years. I’ve never even set eyes on him yet.”

“I hope you will meet him tonight,” said Holmes. “Let’s go. Two cabs are waiting outside. You two men take the first cab. Dr. Watson and I will follow in the second.”

Holmes did not say much during the long drive. We drove through the dark streets. Soon we got to the busy street near Mr. Wilson’s house.

Merryweather and Jones were there ahead of us. We followed Mr. Merryweather down a narrow alley. There was a side door there. He opened it. Inside was a small hall. At the end of the hall there was a heavy gate. Merryweather opened that too. Then we went down some narrow stone stairs. There was another heavy gate at the bottom.

Merryweather stopped to light a lamp. He opened the gate and we passed into a large room. It was piled with boxes.

Holmes held the lamp up to the roof. “Looks as if no one can get in from above,” he said.

“Or from below,” added Merryweather. He tapped the floor with his cane. “Why—dear me! It sounds hollow!” he cried.

“Quiet now!” whispered Holmes. “Please sit down on one of these boxes. And do try not to get in the way. Your shouting has already put us in danger.”

Merryweather looked hurt. But he sat down.

“We have at least an hour to wait,” Holmes said.