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- Артур Конан Дойл
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- Стр. 117/157
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"
Come
out
,
"
said
he
,
"
and
please
be
careful
with
the
revolver
.
"
I
stooped
under
the
rude
lintel
,
and
there
he
sat
upon
a
stone
outside
,
his
gray
eyes
dancing
with
amusement
as
they
fell
upon
my
astonished
features
.
He
was
thin
and
worn
,
but
clear
and
alert
,
his
keen
face
bronzed
by
the
sun
and
roughened
by
the
wind
.
In
his
tweed
suit
and
cloth
cap
he
looked
like
any
other
tourist
upon
the
moor
,
and
he
had
contrived
,
with
that
cat-like
love
of
personal
cleanliness
which
was
one
of
his
characteristics
,
that
his
chin
should
be
as
smooth
and
his
linen
as
perfect
as
if
he
were
in
Baker
Street
.
"
I
never
was
more
glad
to
see
anyone
in
my
life
,
"
said
I
,
as
I
wrung
him
by
the
hand
.
"
Or
more
astonished
,
eh
?
"
"
Well
,
I
must
confess
to
it
.
"
"
The
surprise
was
not
all
on
one
side
,
I
assure
you
.
I
had
no
idea
that
you
had
found
my
occasional
retreat
,
still
less
that
you
were
inside
it
,
until
I
was
within
twenty
paces
of
the
door
.
"
"
My
footprint
,
I
presume
?
"
"
No
,
Watson
;
I
fear
that
I
could
not
undertake
to
recognize
your
footprint
amid
all
the
footprints
of
the
world
.
If
you
seriously
desire
to
deceive
me
you
must
change
your
tobacconist
;
for
when
I
see
the
stub
of
a
cigarette
marked
Bradley
,
Oxford
Street
,
I
know
that
my
friend
Watson
is
in
the
neighbourhood
.
You
will
see
it
there
beside
the
path
.
You
threw
it
down
,
no
doubt
,
at
that
supreme
moment
when
you
charged
into
the
empty
hut
.
"
"
Exactly
.
"
