There were footfalls outside, the door opened, and Inspector
Morton appeared.

"All is in order and this is your man," said Holmes.

The officer gave the usual cautions.

"I arrest you on the charge of the murder of one Victor Savage,"
he concluded.

"And you might add of the attempted murder of one Sherlock
Holmes," remarked my friend with a chuckle. "To save an invalid
trouble, Inspector, Mr. Culverton Smith was good enough to give
our signal by turning up the gas. By the way, the prisoner has a
small box in the right-hand pocket of his coat which it would be
as well to remove. Thank you. I would handle it gingerly if I
were you. Put it down here. It may play its part in the trial."

There was a sudden rush and a scuffle, followed by the clash of
iron and a cry of pain.

"You'll only get yourself hurt," said the inspector. "Stand
still, will you?" There was the click of the closing handcuffs.

"A nice trap!" cried the high, snarling voice. "It will bring
YOU into the dock, Holmes, not me. He asked me to come here to
cure him. I was sorry for him and I came. Now he will pretend,
no doubt, that I have said anything which he may invent which
will corroborate his insane suspicions. You can lie as you like,