I call this little trip 'The
Adventure of the Second Swag'. Here is the second swag on the table.
The first swag you received long ago, and all I had for my share was
some honeyed words of compliment in the stories you wrote. Now, it is
truly said that soft words butter no parsnips, and, in this instance,
they do not even turn away wrath. So far as the second swag is
concerned, I have come to demand half of it.'
'I am not so poor at deduction as you seem to imagine,' said Doyle,
apparently nettled at the other's slighting reference to his powers.
'I was well aware, when you came in, what your errand was. I deduced
further that if you saw Sir George withdraw gold from the bank, you
also followed him to Waterloo station.'
'Quite right.'
'When he purchased his ticket for Haslemere, you did the same.'
'I did.'
'When you arrived at Haslemere, you sent a telegram to your friend, Dr
Watson, telling him of your whereabouts.'
'You are wrong there; I ran after the motor car.'
'You certainly sent a telegram from somewhere, to someone, or at least
dropped a note in the post-box. There are signs, which I need not
mention, that point irrevocably to such a conclusion.'
The doomed man, ruined by his own self-complacency, merely smiled in
his superior manner, not noticing the eager look with which Doyle
awaited his answer.
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