"My friend and I return to town by the night-express,"
said Holmes. "We have had a charming little breath of
your beautiful Dartmoor air."

The Inspector opened his eyes, and the Colonel's lip
curled in a sneer.

"So you despair of arresting the murderer of poor
Straker," said he.

Holmes shrugged his shoulders. "There are certainly
grave difficulties in the way," said he. "I have
every hope, however, that your horse will start upon
Tuesday, and I beg that you will have your jockey in
readiness. Might I ask for a photograph of Mr. John
Straker?"

The Inspector took one from an envelope and handed it
to him.

"My dear Gregory, you anticipate all my wants. If I
might ask you to wait here for an instant, I have a
question which I should like to put to the maid."

"I must say that I am rather disappointed in our
London consultant," said Colonel Ross, bluntly, as my
friend left the room. "I do not see that we are any
further than when he came."

"At least you have his assurance that your horse will