best detective that ever lived.
âMy sister had told me some weeks before that I might have the pick of her geese for a Christmas present, and I knew that she was always as good as her word. I would take my goose now, and in it I would carry my stone to Kilburn. There was a little shed in the yard, and behind this I drove one of the birds, a fine big one, white, with a barred tail. I caught it and, prising its bill open, I thrust the stone down its throat as far as my finger could reach. The bird gave a gulp, and I felt the stone pass along its gullet and down into its crop. But the creature flapped and struggled, and out came my sister to know what was the matter. As I turned to speak to her the brute broke loose, and fluttered off among the others.
ââWhatever were you doing with that bird, Jem?â says she.
ââWell,â said I, âyou said youâd give me one for Christmas, and I was feeling which was the fattest.â
ââOh,â says she, âweâve set yours aside for you. Jemâs bird, we call it. Itâs the big, white one over yonder. Thereâs twenty-six of them, which makes one for you, and one for us, and two dozen for the market.â
ââThank you, Maggie,â says I; âbut if it is all the same to you Iâd rather have that one I was handling just now.â
ââThe other is a good three pound heavier,â she said, âand we fattened it expressly for you.â
ââNever mind. Iâll have the other, and Iâll take it now,â said I.
ââOh, just as you like,â said she, a little huffed. âWhich is it you want, then?â
ââThat white one, with the barred tail, right in the middle of the flock.â
ââOh, very well. Kill it and take it with you.â
âWell, I did what she said, Mr Holmes, and I carried the bird all the way to Kilburn. I told my pal what I had done, for he was a man that it was easy to tell a thing like that to. He laughed until he choked, and we got a knife and opened the goose. My heart turned to water, for there was no sign of the stone, and I knew that some terrible mistake had occurred. I left the bird, rushed back to my sisterâs, and hurried into the back-yard. There was not a bird to be seen there.
ââWhere are they all, Maggie?â I cried.
ââGone to the dealerâs.â
ââWhich dealerâs?â
ââBreckinridge, of Covent Garden.â
ââBut was there another with a barred tail?â I asked, âthe same as the one I chose?â
ââYes, Jem, there were two barred-tailed ones, and I could never tell them apart.â
âWell, then, of course, I saw it all, and I ran off as hard as my feet would carry me to this man Breckinridge; but he had sold the lot at once, and not one word would he tell me as to where they had gone. You heard him yourselves tonight. Well, he has always answered me like that. My sister thinks that I am going mad. Sometimes I think that I am myself. And nowâand now I am myself a branded thief, without ever having touched the wealth for which I sold my character. God help me! God help me!â He burst into convulsive sobbing, with his face buried in his hands.
There was a long silence, broken only by his heavy breathing, and by the measured tapping of Sherlock Holmesâ finger-tips upon the edge of the table. Then my friend rose, and threw open the door.
âGet out!â said he.
âWhat, sir! Oh, Heaven bless you!â
âNo more words. Get out!â
And no more words were needed. There was a rush, a clatter upon the stairs, the bang of a door, and the crisp rattle of running footfalls from the street.
âAfter all, Watson,â said Holmes, reaching up his hand for his clay pipe, âI am not retained by the police to supply their deficiencies. If Horner were in danger it would be another