into the night. It was evident that he was expecting someone. Then at
last there were steps in the road, a second figure was visible for an
instant against the light, the door shut, and all was black once more.
Five minutes later a lamp was lit in a room upon the first floor.

"It seems to be a curious class of custom that is done by the Fighting
Cock," said Holmes.

"The bar is on the other side."

"Quite so. These are what one may call the private guests. Now, what in
the world is Mr. James Wilder doing in that den at this hour of night,
and who is the companion who comes to meet him there? Come, Watson,
we must really take a risk and try to investigate this a little more
closely."

Together we stole down to the road and crept across to the door of the
inn. The bicycle still leaned against the wall. Holmes struck a match
and held it to the back wheel, and I heard him chuckle as the light fell
upon a patched Dunlop tyre. Up above us was the lighted window.

"I must have a peep through that, Watson. If you bend your back and
support yourself upon the wall, I think that I can manage."

An instant later his feet were on my shoulders. But he was hardly up
before he was down again.

"Come, my friend," said he, "our day's work has been quite long enough.
I think that we have gathered all that we can. It's a long walk to the
school, and the sooner we get started the better."

He hardly opened his lips during that weary trudge across the moor, nor
would he enter the school when he reached it, but went on to Mackleton
Station, whence he could send some telegrams. Late at night I heard him
consoling Dr. Huxtable, prostrated by the tragedy of his master's death,
and later still he entered my room as alert and vigorous as he had been
when he started in the morning. "All goes well, my friend," said he. "I
promise that before to-morrow evening we shall have reached the solution
of the mystery."

At eleven o'clock next morning my friend and I were walking up the
famous yew avenue of Holdernesse Hall. We were ushered through the
magnificent Elizabethan doorway and into his Grace's study. There we
found Mr. James Wilder, demure and courtly, but with some trace of that
wild terror of the night before still lurking in his furtive eyes and in
his twitching features.

"You have come to see his Grace? I am sorry; but the fact is that the
Duke is far from well. He has been very much upset by the tragic news.
We received a tele