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"
For
the
very
simple
reason
that
I
see
the
dog
himself
on
our
very
door-step
,
and
there
is
the
ring
of
its
owner
.
Do
n't
move
,
I
beg
you
,
Watson
.
He
is
a
professional
brother
of
yours
,
and
your
presence
may
be
of
assistance
to
me
.
Now
is
the
dramatic
moment
of
fate
,
Watson
,
when
you
hear
a
step
upon
the
stair
which
is
walking
into
your
life
,
and
you
know
not
whether
for
good
or
ill
.
What
does
Dr.
James
Mortimer
,
the
man
of
science
,
ask
of
Sherlock
Holmes
,
the
specialist
in
crime
?
Come
in
!
"
The
appearance
of
our
visitor
was
a
surprise
to
me
,
since
I
had
expected
a
typical
country
practitioner
.
He
was
a
very
tall
,
thin
man
,
with
a
long
nose
like
a
beak
,
which
jutted
out
between
two
keen
,
gray
eyes
,
set
closely
together
and
sparkling
brightly
from
behind
a
pair
of
gold-rimmed
glasses
.
He
was
clad
in
a
professional
but
rather
slovenly
fashion
,
for
his
frock-coat
was
dingy
and
his
trousers
frayed
.
Though
young
,
his
long
back
was
already
bowed
,
and
he
walked
with
a
forward
thrust
of
his
head
and
a
general
air
of
peering
benevolence
.
As
he
entered
his
eyes
fell
upon
the
stick
in
Holmes
's
hand
,
and
he
ran
towards
it
with
an
exclamation
of
joy
.
"
I
am
so
very
glad
,
"
said
he
.
"
I
was
not
sure
whether
I
had
left
it
here
or
in
the
Shipping
Office
.
I
would
not
lose
that
stick
for
the
world
.
"
"
A
presentation
,
I
see
,
"
said
Holmes
.
"
Yes
,
sir
.
"
"
From
Charing
Cross
Hospital
?
"
"
From
one
or
two
friends
there
on
the
occasion
of
my
marriage
.
"
"
Dear
,
dear
,
that
's
bad
!
"
said
Holmes
,
shaking
his
head
.
Dr.
Mortimer
blinked
through
his
glasses
in
mild
astonishment
.
"
Why
was
it
bad
?
"
