was some
rumor in the GLOBE last night. I thought it might have reached your
ears."

Holmes shot out his long, thin arm and picked out Volume "H" in his
encyclopaedia of reference.

"'Holdernesse, 6th Duke, K.G., P.C.'--half the alphabet! 'Baron
Beverley, Earl of Carston'--dear me, what a list! 'Lord Lieutenant
of Hallamshire since 1900. Married Edith, daughter of Sir Charles
Appledore, 1888. Heir and only child, Lord Saltire. Owns about two
hundred and fifty thousand acres. Minerals in Lancashire and Wales.
Address: Carlton House Terrace; Holdernesse Hall, Hallamshire; Carston
Castle, Bangor, Wales. Lord of the Admiralty, 1872; Chief Secretary of
State for----' Well, well, this man is certainly one of the greatest
subjects of the Crown!"

"The greatest and perhaps the wealthiest. I am aware, Mr. Holmes, that
you take a very high line in professional matters, and that you are
prepared to work for the work's sake. I may tell you, however, that his
Grace has already intimated that a check for five thousand pounds will
be handed over to the person who can tell him where his son is, and
another thousand to him who can name the man or men who have taken him."

"It is a princely offer," said Holmes. "Watson, I think that we shall
accompany Dr. Huxtable back to the north of England. And now, Dr.
Huxtable, when you have consumed that milk, you will kindly tell me what
has happened, when it happened, how it happened, and, finally, what Dr.
Thorneycroft Huxtable, of the Priory School, near Mackleton, has to do
with the matter, and why he comes three days after an event--the state
of your chin gives the date--to ask for my humble services."

Our visitor had consumed his milk and biscuits. The light had come back
to his eyes and the colour to his cheeks, as he set himself with great
vigour and lucidity to explain the situation.

"I must inform you, gentlemen, that the Priory is a preparatory school,
of which I am the founder and principal. HUXTABLE'S SIDELIGHTS ON HORACE
may possibly recall my name to your memories. The Priory is, without
exception, the best and most select preparatory school in England. Lord
Leverstoke, the Earl of Blackwater, Sir Cathcart Soames--they all have
intrusted their sons to me. But I felt that my school had reached its
zenith when, weeks ago, the Duke of Holdernesse sent Mr. James Wilder,
his secretary, with intimation that young Lord Saltire, ten years old,
his only son and heir, was about to be