my visitor is one of two classes of persons--an autograph-hunter or a
client, one of the two. You see I give you a chance to win. It may
be an autograph-hunter, but I think it is a client. If it were a
creditor, he would knock boldly, even ostentatiously; if it were the
maid, she would not knock at all; if it were the hall-boy, he would
not come until I had rung five times for him. None of these things
has occurred; the knock is the half-hearted knock which betokens
either that the person who knocked is in trouble, or is uncertain as
to his reception. I am willing, however, considering the heat and my
desire to quench my thirst, to wager that it is a client.'

"'Done,' said Watson; and I immediately remarked, 'Come in.'

"The door opened, and a man of about thirty-five years of age, in a
bathing-suit, entered the room, and I saw at a glance what had
happened.

"'Your name is Burgess,' I said. 'You came here from London this
morning, expecting to return to-night. You brought no luggage with
you. After luncheon you went bathing. You had machine No. 35, and
when you came out of the water you found that No. 35 had disappeared,
with your clothes and the silver watch your uncle gave you on the day
you succeeded to his business.'

"Of course, gentlemen," observed the detective, with a smile at Sir
Walter and Hamlet--"of course the man fairly gasped, and I continued:
'You have been lying face downward in the sand ever since, waiting
for nightfall, so that you could come to me for assistance, not
considering it good form to make an afternoon call upon a stranger at
his hotel, clad in a bathing-suit. Am I correct?'