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The double track turned sharp off and took the
direction of King's Pyland. Holmes whistled, and we
both followed along after it. His eyes were on the
trail, but I happened to look a little to one side,
and saw to my surprise the same tracks coming back
again in the opposite direction.

"One for you, Watson," said Holmes, when I pointed it
out. "You have saved us a long walk, which would have
brought us back on our own traces. Let us follow the
return track."

We had not to go far. It ended at the paving of
asphalt which led up to the gates of the Mapleton
stables. As we approached, a groom ran out from them.

"We don't want any loiterers about here," said he.

"I only wished to ask a question," said Holmes, with
his finger and thumb in his waistcoat pocket. "Should
I be too early to see your master, Mr. Silas Brown, if
I were to call at five o'clock to-morrow morning?"

"Bless you, sir, if any one is about he will be, for
he is always the first stirring. But here he is, sir,
to answer your questions for himself. No, sir, no; it
is as much as my place is worth to let him see me
touch your money. Afterwards, if you like."

As Sherlock Holmes replaced the half-crown which he
had drawn from his pocket, a fierce-looking elderly
man strode out from the gate with a hunting-crop
swinging in his hand.

"What's this, Dawson!" he cried. "No gossiping! Go
about your business! And you, what the devil do you
want here?"

"Ten minutes' talk with you, my good sir," said Holmes
in the sweetest of voices.

"I've no time to talk to every gadabout. We want no
stranger here. Be off, or you may find a dog at your
heels."

Holmes leaned forward and whispered something in the
trainer's ear. He started violently and flushed to
the temples.

"It's a lie!" he shouted, "an infernal lie!"

"Very good. Shall we argue about it here in public or
talk it over in your parlor?"

"Oh, come in if you wish to."

Holmes smiled. "I shall not keep you more than a few
minutes, Watson," said he. "Now, Mr. Brown, I am
quite at your disposal."

It was twenty minutes, and the reds had all faded into
grays before Holmes and the trainer reappeared. Never
have I seen such a change as had been brought about in
Silas Brown in that short time. His face was ashy
pale, beads of perspiration shone upon his brow, and
his hands shook until the hunting-crop wagged like a
branch in the wind. His bullying, overbearing manner
was all gone too, and he cringed along at my
companion's side like a dog with its master.

"Your instructions will be done. It shall all be
done," said he.

"There must be no mistake," said Holmes, looking round
at him. The other winced as he read the menace in his
eyes.

"Oh no, there shall be no mistake. It shall be there.
Should I change it first or not?"

Holmes thought a little and then burst out laughing.
"No, don't," said he; "I shall write to you about it.
No tricks, now, or--"

"Oh, you can trust me, you can trust me!"

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