He is not a bad fellow， and I should not like to do anything whichwould injure him professionally. But I have a fancy for working itout myself， now that we have gone so far.”
“Could we advertise， then， asking for information fromwharfingers？”
“Worse and worse！ Our men would know that the chase was hotat their heels， and they would be off out of the country. As it is，they are likely enough to leave， but as long as they think they areperfectly safe they will be in no hurry. Jones’s energy will be of useto us there， for his view of the case is sure to push itself into thedaily press， and the runaways will think that everyone is off on thewrong scent.”
“What are we to do， then？” I asked as we landed near MillbankPenitentiary.
“Take this hansom， drive home， have some breakfast， and get anhour’s sleep. It is quite on the cards that we may be afoot to-nightagain. Stop at a telegraph office， cabby！ We will keep Toby， for hemay be of use to us yet.”
We pulled up at the Great Peter Street post-office， and Holmesdespatched his wire.
“Whom do you think that is to？” he asked as we resumed ourjourney.
“I am sure I don’t know.”
“You remember the Baker Street division of the detective policeforce whom I employed in the Jefferson Hope case？”
“Well，” said I， laughing.
“This is just the case where they might be invaluable. If they failI have other resources， but I shall try them first. That wire was tomy dirty little lieutenant， Wiggins， and I expect that he and hisgang will be with us before we have finished our breakfast.”
It was between eight and nine o’clock now， and I was consciousof a strong reaction after the successive excitements of the night.
I was limp and weary， befogged in mind and fatigued in body. Ihad not the professional enthusiasm which carried my companionon， nor could I look at the matter as a mere abstract intellectualproblem. As far as the death of Bartholomew Sholto went， I hadheard little good of him， and could feel no intense antipathy to hismurderers. The treasure， however， was a different matter. That，or part of it， belonged rightfully to Miss Morstan. While therewas a chance of recovering it I was ready to devote my life to theone object. True， if I found it， it would probably put her foreverbeyond my reach. Yet it would be a petty and selfish love whichwould be influenced by such a thought as that. If Holmes couldwork to find the criminals， I had a tenfold stronger reason to urgeme on to find the treasure.
A bath at Baker Street and a complete change freshened meup wonderfully. When I came down to our room I found thebreakfast laid and Homes pouring out the coffee.
“Here it is，” said he， laughing and pointing to an opennewspaper. “The energetic Jones and the ubiquitous reporter havefixed it up between them. But you have had enough of the case.
Better have your ham and eggs first.”
I took the paper from him and read the short notice. Whichwas headed “Mysterious Business at Upper Norwood.”
“About twelve o’clock last night，” said the Standard， “Mr. BartholomewSholto， of Pondicherry Lodge， Upper Norwood， was found deadin his room under circumstances which point to foul play. As faras we can learn， no actual traces of violence were found upon Mr.
Sholto’s person， but a valuable collection of Indian gems which thedeceased gentleman had inherited from his father has been carriedoff. The discovery was first made by Mr. Sherlock Holmes and Dr.
Watson， who had called at the house with Mr. Thaddeus Sholto，brother of the deceased. By a singular piece of good fortune， Mr.
Athelney Jones， the well-known member of the detective policeforce， happened to be at the Norwood Police Station and was onthe ground within half an hour of the first alarm. His trained andexperienced faculties were at once directed towards the detection ofthe criminals， with the gratifying result that the brother， ThaddeusSholto， has already been arrested， together with the housekeeper，Mrs. Bernstone， an Indian butler named Lal Rao， and a porter， orgatekeeper， named McMurdo. It is quite certain that the thief orthieves were well acquainted with the house， for Mr. Jones’s wellknowntechnical knowledge and his powers of minute observationhave enabled him to prove conclusively that the miscreants couldnot have entered by the door or by the window but must have madetheir way across the roof of the building， and so through a trapdoorinto a room which communicated with that in which the bodywas found. This fact， which has been very clearly made out， provesconclusively that it was no mere haphazard burglary. The promptand energetic action of the officers of the law shows the greatadvantage of the presence on such occasions of a single vigorous andmasterful mind. We cannot but think that it supplies an argumentto those who would wish to see our detectives more decentralized，and so brought into closer and more effective touch with the caseswhich it is their duty to investigate.”
“Isn’t it gorgeous！” said Holmes， grinning over his coffee cup.
“What do you think of it？”
“I think that we have had a close shave ourselves of being arrestedfor the crime.”
“So do I. I wouldn’t answer for our safety now if he shouldhappen to have another of his attacks of energy.”
At this moment there was a loud ring at the bell， and I couldhear Mrs. Hudson， our landlady， raising her voice in a wail ofexpostulation and dismay.
“By heaven， Holmes，” I said， half rising， “I believe that they arereally after us.”
“No， it’s not quite so bad as that. It is the unofficial force—theBaker Street irregulars.”
As he spoke， there came a swift pattering of naked feet uponthe stairs， a clatter of high voices， and in rushed a dozen dirtyand ragged little street Arabs. There was some show of disciplineamong them， despite their tumultuous entry， for they instantlydrew up in line and stood facing us with expectant faces. Oneof their number， taller and older than the others， stood forwardwith an air of lounging superiority which was very funny in such adisreputable little scarecrow.