The Hound of the Baskervilles: Three Broken Threads

At the Northumberland Hotel, Holmes looked through the guest book and saw that none of the new guests could be the man who was following Sir Henry.So the spy wanted to watch Sir Henry closely, Holmes explained, but was just as careful never to be seen himself.At the top of the stairs they ran into Sir Henry, red with anger and holding a single dusty old boot.

First one of his new brown boots had vanished, and now one of his old black ones had gone too.Sir Henry called it the maddest thing that had ever happened to him, but Holmes said quietly that it was well worth troubling about.Over lunch Holmes learned that Barrymore, the butler at Baskerville Hall, had a full black beard, just like the man in the cab.

To check whether Barrymore was really in Devonshire, Holmes sent a telegram that had to be placed in the butler’s own hands.Then Dr. Mortimer revealed that Sir Charles had left almost a million pounds, and that if anything happened to Sir Henry, a distant cousin, an elderly clergyman, would inherit everything.“It is a stake for which a man might well play a desperate game,” said Holmes.

Holmes agreed that Sir Henry should go to Baskerville Hall, but said that he must never go alone, and since Holmes himself was needed in London, he asked Watson to go instead.Sir Henry shook Watson’s hand warmly, and Watson, who always loved an adventure, gladly agreed.Just as they were leaving, Sir Henry found the missing brown boot under a cabinet, in a room that had been searched carefully before lunch.

That evening two telegrams arrived: Barrymore was at the Hall, and the boy sent to search hotel waste paper for the cut-up newspaper had found nothing.Holmes’s last hope was the cab driver, John Clayton, who came to Baker Street himself that night.The bearded passenger had paid him well, Clayton said, and as he left he had turned and told him his name: Mr. Sherlock Holmes.

For a moment Holmes sat in silent amazement, then burst out laughing; this time, he said, they had an enemy worthy of them.All three of his threads had snapped in London, and Holmes admitted that he did not like sending his friend into such an ugly, dangerous business.