Page:The Case Book of Sherlock Holmes (1927).djvu/158

 motive lies behind this preposterous search for Garridebs? It’s worth our attention, for, granting that the man is a rascal, he is certainly a complex and ingenious one. We must now find out if our other correspondent is a fraud also. Just ring him up, Watson.”

I did so, and heard a thin, quavering voice at the other end of the line.

“Yes, yes, I am Mr. Nathan Garrideb. Is Mr. Holmes there? I should very much like to have a word with Mr. Holmes.”

My friend took the instrument and I heard the usual syncopated dialogue.

“Yes, he has been here. I understand that you don’t know him. How long? Only two days! Yes, yes, of course, it is a most captivating prospect. Will you be at home this evening? I suppose your namesake will not be there? Very good, we will come then, for I would rather have a chat without him. Dr. Watson will come with me. I understood from your note that you did not go out often. Well, we shall be round about six. You need not mention it to the American lawyer. Very good. Good-bye!”

It was twilight of a lovely spring evening, and even Little Ryder Street, one of the smaller offshoots from the Edgeware Road, within a stone-cast of old Tyburn Tree of evil memory, looked golden and wonderful in the slanting rays of the setting sun. The particular house to which we were directed was a large, old-fashioned, Early Georgian edifice with a flat brick face broken only by two deep bay windows on the ground floor. It was on this ground floor that