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but actually have directed his horse
here."
    "Placing
him at the scene of the crime. And what, pray
tell, did you learn in this adjacent hamlet?"
    "Much
more than I anticipated. Obviously, Agnes had
informed her uncle of her love for Charles Trelawney. The news was
such a shock to the old fellow that he
rode into Marley like Rob Roy on the run.
Leaving a foam-flecked horse, he promptly made
for the only public house available and spent what was left of the
early evening disposing of a complete
bottle of very old Irish whiskey. This induced a certain truculence
in his general attitude and the local constable was summoned. This
pro tector of the peace, Farquhar by
name, placed Horace Ledbetter with some
difficulty in what our American cousins
call the local pokey. Ledbetter spent
the entire night in a cell in the Marley jail."
    "Good
heavens!" I exclaimed, adjusting my waistcoat.
"This gives Ledbetter an alibi."
    "The
very best I can think of, since it is supplied by
the authorities themselves."
    As
Holmes helped me into my coat, there was a loud
knocking on the door. "Do come in,"
said Holmes, and the door opened revealing
an agitated Constable Bennett.
    "Forgive
me, gentlemen," said Bennett, entering rapidly.
"Things have taken a sudden turn."
    "So
Holmes has just told me."
    The
constable shot an inquisitive glance at my friend. "They said
downstairs you had hired a four-wheeler early this morning. I was
looking around town for you before
coming here. Have you chanced upon
something?"
    "'Twill
wait," said Holmes with an airy gesture of
one hand. "What have you learned, Bennett?"
    "As
you know, I have been staying at the Trelawney house to protect the evidence. This morning, I dropped by my digs and
found an envelope under my door."
Bennett extracted a piece of cheap paper from
his pocket. "Let me read you the contents: 'Young Charles did
not arrive at Trelawney's till just
before eleven. Why don't you follow the finger of
guilt, which points directly at Horace Ledbetter?' "
    "It's
signed: 'One who knows,'" concluded Ben nett.
    " Your
anonymous correspondent might just as well
have affixed his name," said Holmes.
    "My
thought exactly, Mr. Holmes. Vincent Staley trying
to implicate his enemy. I came here at once, but
they said that you had already departed. Therefore,
I went to Staley's home. There was no response to my knock, but I
noticed the door ajar. Something
prompted me to look inside and it's a good
thing I did, gentlemen. I found Vincent Staley in
his bedroom with his head bashed in."
    "Good
heavens!" This news set me back for fair.
    "Hmmm!"
added Holmes. "A turn of events I certainly
did not foresee."
    Bennett
looked harassed. "I haven't made the fact
known as yet."
    "Just
as well," was the detective's comment.
    "I
thought you gentlemen would accompany me to
Ledbetter's farm. He is a tough old coot and I may need assistance in
placing him under arrest."
    I
was dazed. "But he has an alibi."
    Holmes
explained the situation to Bennett. "Con stable
Farquhar of Marley assured me that Horace Ledbetter
was under lock and key in the Marley jail the
entire night of the murder of Trelawney."
    Now
it was the constable's turn to look dazed. "Farquhar,
eh? A good man. Bit of a local celebrity
since he is our best dancer in these parts. Considered the master of
the English Quick Step."
    "Well,
he has quick-stepped our only suspect right
out of the picture."
    "Not
necessarily, my dear Watson."
    "Half
a moment, Holmes. Young Charles is inno cent,
being a left-handed man and incapable of delivering the death blow to
his stepfather in the manner in which it was done. Staley has been
murdered himself, and Horace Ledbetter has an ironclad
alibi. Surely you cannot make anything sensible
out of this hopeless tangle? Unless another suspect
appears in a deus ex machina manner,
we are at a hopeless dead end."
    Holmes'
eyes had narrowed thoughtfully. "The only
way of arriving at what can be true is the careful
elimination of what cannot be