with you again in an hour at the furthest. The Inspector and I
must have a word with the prisoners; but you will certainly see me back
at luncheon time."

Sherlock Holmes was as good as his word, for about one o'clock he
rejoined us in the Colonel's smoking-room. He was accompanied by a
little, elderly gentleman, who was introduced to me as the Mr. Acton
whose house had been the scene of the original burglary.

"I wished Mr. Acton to be present while I demonstrated this small matter
to you," said Holmes, "for it is natural that he should take a keen
interest in the details. I am afraid, my dear Colonel, that you must
regret the hour that you took in such a stormy petrel as I am."

"On the contrary," answered the Colonel, warmly, "I consider it the
greatest privilege to have been permitted to study your methods of
working. I confess that they quite surpass my expectations, and that I
am utterly unable to account for your result. I have not yet seen the
vestige of a clue."

"I am afraid that my explanation may disillusionize you, but it has
always been my habit to hide none of my methods, either from my friend
Watson or from anyone who might take an intelligent interest in them.
But first, as I am rather shaken by the knocking about which I had in
the dressing-room, I think that I shall help myself to a dash of your
brandy, Colonel. My strength has been rather tried of late."

"I trust you had no more of those nervous attacks."

Sherlock Holmes laughed heartily. "We will come to that in its turn,"
said he. "I will lay an account of the case before you in its due order,
showing you the various points which guided me in my decision. Pray
interrupt me if there is any inference which is not perfectly clear to
you.

"It is of the highest importance in the art of detection to be able to
recognise out of a number of facts which are incidental and which vital.
Otherwise your energy and attention must be dissipated instead of being
concentrated. Now, in this case there was not the slightest doubt in my
mind from the first that the key of the whole matter must be looked for
in the scrap of paper in the dead man's hand.

"Before going into this I would draw your attention to the fact that if
Alec Cunningham's narrative was correct, and if the assailant after
shooting William Kirwan had _instantly_ fled, then it obviously could
not be he who tore the paper from the dead man's hand. But if it was not
he, it must have been Ale