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"
For
Mr.
Sherlock
Holmes
,
"
he
said
,
stepping
into
the
room
and
handing
my
friend
the
letter
.
Here
was
an
opportunity
of
taking
the
conceit
out
of
him
.
He
little
thought
of
this
when
he
made
that
random
shot
.
"
May
I
ask
,
my
lad
,
"
I
said
,
in
the
blandest
voice
,
"
what
your
trade
may
be
?
"
"
Commissionaire
,
sir
,
"
he
said
,
gruffly
.
"
Uniform
away
for
repairs
.
"
"
And
you
were
?
"
I
asked
,
with
a
slightly
malicious
glance
at
my
companion
.
"
A
sergeant
,
sir
,
Royal
Marine
Light
Infantry
,
sir
.
No
answer
?
Right
,
sir
.
"
He
clicked
his
heels
together
,
raised
his
hand
in
a
salute
,
and
was
gone
.
I
confess
that
I
was
considerably
startled
by
this
fresh
proof
of
the
practical
nature
of
my
companion
's
theories
.
My
respect
for
his
powers
of
analysis
increased
wondrously
.
There
still
remained
some
lurking
suspicion
in
my
mind
,
however
,
that
the
whole
thing
was
a
pre-arranged
episode
,
intended
to
dazzle
me
,
though
what
earthly
object
he
could
have
in
taking
me
in
was
past
my
comprehension
.
When
I
looked
at
him
he
had
finished
reading
the
note
,
and
his
eyes
had
assumed
the
vacant
,
lack-lustre
expression
which
showed
mental
abstraction
.
"
How
in
the
world
did
you
deduce
that
?
"
I
asked
.
"
Deduce
what
?
"
said
he
,
petulantly
.
"
Why
,
that
he
was
a
retired
sergeant
of
Marines
.
"
