"I have been making a fool of myself," he gasped.

"Not at all. Drink this." I dashed some brandy into the water,

and the color began to come back to his bloodless cheeks.

"That's better!" said he. "And now, Doctor, perhaps you would

kindly attend to my thumb, or rather to the place where my thumb

used to be."

He unwound the handkerchief and held out his hand. It gave even

my hardened nerves a shudder to look at it. There were four

protruding fingers and a horrid red, spongy surface where the

thumb should have been. It had been hacked or torn right out from

the roots.

"Good heavens!" I cried, "this is a terrible injury. It must have

bled considerably."

"Yes, it did. I fainted when it was done, and I think that I must

have been senseless for a long time. When I came to I found that

it was still bleeding, so I tied one end of my handkerchief very

tightly round the wrist and braced it up with a twig."

"Excellent! You should have been a surgeon."

"It is a question of hydraulics, you see, and came within my own

province."

"This has been done," said I, examining the wound, "by a very

heavy and sharp instrument."

"A thing like a cleaver," said he.

"An accident, I presume?"

"By no means."

"What! a murderous attack?"

"Very murderous indeed."

"You horrify me."

I sponged the wound, cleaned it, dressed it, and finally covered

it over with cotton wadding and carbolized bandages. He lay back

without wincing, though he bit his lip from time to time.

"How is that?" I asked when I had finished.

"Capital! Between your brandy and your bandage, I feel a new man.

I was very weak, but I have had a good deal to go through."

"Perhaps you had better not speak of the matter. It is evidently

trying to your nerves."

"Oh, no, not now. I shall have to tell my tale to the police;

but, between ourselves, if it were not for the convincing

evidence of this wound of mine, I should be surprised if they

believed my statement, for it is a very extraordinary one, and I

have not much in the way of proof with which to back it up; and,

even if they believe me, the clews which I can give them are so

vague that it is a question whether justice will be done."

"Ha!" cried I, "if it is anything in the nature of a problem

which you desire to see solved, I should strongly recommend you

to come to my friend, Mr. Sherlock Holmes, before you go to the

official police."

"Oh, I have heard of that fellow," answered my visitor, "and I

should be very glad if he would take the matter up, though of

course I must use the official police as well. Would you give me

an introduction to him?"

"I'll do better. I'll take you round to him myself."

"I should be immensely obliged to you."

"We'll call a cab and go together. We shall just be in time to

have a little breakfast with him. Do you feel equal to it?"

"Yes; I shall not feel easy until I have told my story."

"Then my servant will call a cab, and I shall be with you in an

instant." I rushed upstairs, explained the matter shortly to my

wife, and in five minutes was inside a hansom, driving with my

new acquaintance to Baker Street.

Sherlock Holmes was, as I expected, lounging about his

sittingroom in his dressing-gown, reading the agony column of The

Times and smoking his before-breakfast pipe, which was composed

of all the plugs and dottles left from his smokes of the day

before, all carefully dried and collected on the corner of the

mantelpiece. He received us in his quietly genial fashion,

ordered fresh rashers and eggs, and joined us in a hearty meal.

When it was concluded he settled our new acquaintance upon the

sofa, placed a pillow beneath his head, and laid a glass of

brandy and water within his reach.

"It is easy to see that your experience has been no common one,

Mr. Hatherley," said he. "Pray, lie down there and make yourself

absolutely at home. Tell us what you can, but stop when you are

tired and keep up your strength with a little stimulant."

"Thank you," said my patient. "but I have felt another man since

the doctor bandaged me, and I think that your breakfast has

completed the cure. I shall take up as little of your valuable

time as possible, so I shall start at once upon my peculiar

experiences."

Holmes sat in his big armchair with the weary, heavy-lidded

expression which veiled his keen and eager nature, while I sat

opposite to him, and we listened in silence to the strange story

which our visitor detailed to us.

"You must know," said he, "that I am an orphan and a bachelor,

residing alone in lodgings in London. By profession I am a

hydraulic engineer, and I have had considerable experience of my

work during the seven years that I was apprenticed to Venner &

Matheson, the well-known firm, of Greenwich. Two years ago,

having served my time, and having also come into a fair sum of

money through my poor father's death, I determined to start in

business for myself and took professional chambers in Victoria

Street.

"I suppose that everyone finds his first independent start in

business a dreary experience. To me it has been exceptionally so.

During two years I have had three consultations and one small

job, and that is absolutely all that my profession has brought

me. My gross takings amount to 27 pounds 10s. Every day, from

nine in the morning until four in the afternoon, I waited in my

little den, until at last my heart began to sink, and I came to

believe that I should never have any practice at all.

"Yesterday, however, just as I was thinking of leaving the

office, my clerk entered to say there was a gentleman waiting who

wished to see me upon business. He brought up a card, too, with

the name of 'Colonel Lysander Stark' engraved upon it. Close at

his heels came the colonel himself, a man rather over the middle

size, but of an exceeding thinness. I do not think that I have

ever seen so thin a man. His whole face sharpened away into nose

and chin, and the skin of his cheeks was drawn quite tense over

his outstanding bones. Yet this emaciation seemed to be his

natural habit, and due to no disease, for his eye was bright, his

step brisk, and his bearing assured. He was plainly but neatly

dressed, and his age, I should judge, would be nearer forty than

thirty.

"'Mr. Hatherley?' said he, with something of a German accent.

'You have been recommended to me, Mr. Hatherley, as being a man

who is not only proficient in his profession but is also discreet

and capable of preserving a secret.'

"I bowed, feeling as flattered as any young man would at such an

address. 'May I ask who it was who gave me so good a character?'

"'Well, perhaps it is better that I should not tell you that just

at this moment. I have it from the same source that you are both

an orphan and a bachelor and are residing alone in London.'

"'That is quite correct,' I answered; 'but you will excuse me if

I say that I cannot see how all this bears upon my professional

qualifications. I understand that it was on a professional matter

that you wished to speak to me?'

"'Undoubtedly so. But you will find that all I say is really to

the point. I have a professional commission for you, but absolute

secrecy is quite essential--absolute secrecy, you understand, and

of course we may expect that more from a man who is alone than

from one who lives in the bosom of his family.'

"'If I promise to keep a secret,' said I, 'you may absolutely

depend upon my doing so.'

"He looked very hard at me as I spoke, and it seemed to me that I

had never seen so suspicious and questioning an eye.

"'Do you promise, then?' said he at last.

"'Yes, I promise.'

"'Absolute and complete silence before, during, and after? No

reference to the matter at all, either in word or writing?'

"'I have already given you my word.'

"'Very good.' He suddenly sprang up, and darting like lightning

across the room he flung open the door. The passage outside was

empty.