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“
We
all
need
help
sometimes
,
”
said
I
.
“
Your
friend
Mr
.
Sherlock
Holmes
is
a
wonderful
man
,
sir
,
”
said
he
,
in
a
husky
and
confidential
voice
.
“
He
’
s
a
man
who
is
not
to
be
beat
.
I
have
known
that
young
man
go
into
a
good
many
cases
,
but
I
never
saw
the
case
yet
that
he
could
not
throw
a
light
upon
.
He
is
irregular
in
his
methods
,
and
a
little
quick
perhaps
in
jumping
at
theories
,
but
,
on
the
whole
,
I
think
he
would
have
made
a
most
promising
officer
,
and
I
don
’
t
care
who
knows
it
.
I
have
had
a
wire
from
him
this
morning
,
by
which
I
understand
that
he
has
got
some
clue
to
this
Sholto
business
.
Here
is
the
message
.
”
He
took
the
telegram
out
of
his
pocket
,
and
handed
it
to
me
.
It
was
dated
from
Poplar
at
twelve
o
’
clock
.
“
Go
to
Baker
Street
at
once
,
”
it
said
.
“
If
I
have
not
returned
,
wait
for
me
.
I
am
close
on
the
track
of
the
Sholto
gang
.
You
can
come
with
us
to
-
night
if
you
want
to
be
in
at
the
finish
.
”
“
This
sounds
well
.
He
has
evidently
picked
up
the
scent
again
,
”
said
I
.
“
Ah
,
then
he
has
been
at
fault
too
,
”
exclaimed
Jones
,
with
evident
satisfaction
.
“
Even
the
best
of
us
are
thrown
off
sometimes
.
Of
course
this
may
prove
to
be
a
false
alarm
;
but
it
is
my
duty
as
an
officer
of
the
law
to
allow
no
chance
to
slip
.
But
there
is
some
one
at
the
door
.
Perhaps
this
is
he
.
”
A
heavy
step
was
heard
ascending
the
stair
,
with
a
great
wheezing
and
rattling
as
from
a
man
who
was
sorely
put
to
it
for
breath
.
Once
or
twice
he
stopped
,
as
though
the
climb
were
too
much
for
him
,
but
at
last
he
made
his
way
to
our
door
and
entered
.
His
appearance
corresponded
to
the
sounds
which
we
had
heard
.
He
was
an
aged
man
,
clad
in
seafaring
garb
,
with
an
old
pea
-
jacket
buttoned
up
to
his
throat
.
His
back
was
bowed
,
his
knees
were
shaky
,
and
his
breathing
was
painfully
asthmatic
.
As
he
leaned
upon
a
thick
oaken
cudgel
his
shoulders
heaved
in
the
effort
to
draw
the
air
into
his
lungs
.
He
had
a
coloured
scarf
round
his
chin
,
and
I
could
see
little
of
his
face
save
a
pair
of
keen
dark
eyes
,
overhung
by
bushy
white
brows
,
and
long
grey
side
-
whiskers
.
Altogether
he
gave
me
the
impression
of
a
respectable
master
mariner
who
had
fallen
into
years
and
poverty
.
“
What
is
it
,
my
man
?
”
I
asked
.
He
looked
about
him
in
the
slow
methodical
fashion
of
old
age
.
