, that we are dealing with an exceptionally
astute and dangerous man. The Rev. Dr. Shlessinger, missionary from
South America, is none other than Holy Peters, one of the most
unscrupulous rascals that Australia has ever evolved--and for a young
country it has turned out some very finished types. His particular
specialty is the beguiling of lonely ladies by playing upon their
religious feelings, and his so-called wife, an Englishwoman named
Fraser, is a worthy helpmate. The nature of his tactics suggested his
identity to me, and this physical peculiarity--he was badly bitten in a
saloon-fight at Adelaide in '89--confirmed my suspicion. This poor
lady is in the hands of a most infernal couple, who will stick at
nothing, Watson. That she is already dead is a very likely
supposition. If not, she is undoubtedly in some sort of confinement
and unable to write to Miss Dobney or her other friends. It is always
possible that she never reached London, or that she has passed through
it, but the former is improbable, as, with their system of
registration, it is not easy for foreigners to play tricks with the
Continental police; and the latter is also unlikely, as these rouges
could not hope to find any other place where it would be as easy to
keep a person under restraint. All my instincts tell me that she is in
London, but as we have at present no possible means of telling where,
we can only take the obvious steps, eat our dinner, and possess our
souls in patience. Later in the evening I will stroll down and have a
word with friend Lestrade at Scotland Yard."
But neither the official police nor Holmes's own small but very
efficient organization sufficed to clear away the mystery. Amid the
crowded millions of London the three persons we sought were as
completely obliterated as if they had never lived. Advertisements were
tried, and failed. Clues were followed, and led to nothing. Every
criminal resort which Shlessinger might frequent was drawn in vain.
His old associates were watched, but they kept clear of him. And then
suddenly, after a week of helpless suspense there came a flash of
light. A silver-and-brilliant pendant of old Spanish design had been
pawned at Bovington's, in Westminster Road. The pawner was a large,
clean-shaven man of clerical appearance. His name and address were
demonstrably false. The ear had escaped notice, but the description
was surely that of Shlessinger.
Three times had our bearded f
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