who did not want it—who merely took it for a blind, as it were, then they would naturally be anxious to get rid of it.”
“But why should such an idea cross your mind?”
“Well, I thought it was possible. When they came out through the French window, there was the pond with one tempting little hole in the ice, right in front of their noses. Could there be a better hiding-place?”
“Ah, a hiding-place—that is better!” cried Stanley Hopkins. “Yes, yes, I see it all now! It was early, there were folk upon the roads, they were afraid of being seen with the silver, so they sank it in the pond, intending to return for it when the coast was clear. Excellent, Mr. Holmes—that is better than your idea of a blind.”
“Quite so, you have got an admirable theory. I have no doubt that my own ideas were quite wild, but you must admit that they have ended in discovering the silver.”
“Yes, sir—yes. It was all your doing. But I have had a bad setback.”
“A setback?”
“Yes, Mr. Holmes. The Randall gang were arrested in New York this morning.”
“Dear me, Hopkins! That is certainly rather against your theory, that they committed a murder in Kent last night.”
“It is fatal, Mr. Holmes—absolutely fatal. Still, there are other gangs of three besides the Randalls, or it may be some new gang of which the police have never heard.”
“Quite so, it is perfectly possible. What, are you off?”
“Yes, Mr. Holmes, there is no rest for me until I have got to the bottom of the business. I suppose you have no hint to give me?”
“I have given you one.”
