re. But
from what you say we might perhaps be doing better work in London."

"I rather think not," said Holmes.

"Hang it all, Mr. Holmes!" cried the inspector. "The papers will be
full of the Birlstone mystery in a day or two; but where's the mystery
if there is a man in London who prophesied the crime before ever it
occurred? We have only to lay our hands on that man, and the rest will
follow."

"No doubt, Mr. Mac. But how do you propose to lay your hands on the
so-called Porlock?"

MacDonald turned over the letter which Holmes had handed him. "Posted
in Camberwell--that doesn't help us much. Name, you say, is assumed.
Not much to go on, certainly. Didn't you say that you have sent him
money?"

"Twice."

"And how?"

"In notes to Camberwell post-office."

"Did you ever trouble to see who called for them?"

"No."

The inspector looked surprised and a little shocked. "Why not?"

"Because I always keep faith. I had promised when he first wrote that I
would not try to trace him."

"You think there is someone behind him?"

"I know there is."

"This professor that I've heard you mention?"

"Exactly!"

Inspector MacDonald smiled, and his eyelid quivered as he glanced
towards me. "I won't conceal from you, Mr. Holmes, that we think in the
C. I. D. that you have a wee bit of a bee in your bonnet over this
professor. I made some inquiries myself about the matter. He seems to
be a very respectable, learned, and talented sort of man."

"I'm glad you've got so far as to recognize the talent."

"Man, you can't but recognize it! After I heard your view I made it my
business to see him. I had a chat with him on eclipses. How the talk
got that way I canna think; but he had out a reflector lantern and a
globe, and made it all clear in a minute. He lent me a book; but I
don't mind saying that it was a bit above my head, though I had a good
Aberdeen upbringing. He'd have made a grand meenister with his thin
face and gray hair and solemn-like way of talking. When he put his hand
on my shoulder as we were parting, it was like a father's blessing
before you go out into the cold, cruel world."

Holmes chuckled and rubbed his hands. "Great!" he said. "Great! Tell
me, Friend MacDonald, this pleasing and touching interview was, I
suppose, in the professor's study?"

"That's so."

"A fine room, is it not?"

"Very fine--very handsome indeed, Mr. Holmes."

"You sat in front of his writing desk?"

"Just so."

"Su