“I hope，” said Dr. Mortimer， “that you do not look withsuspicious eyes upon everyone who received a legacy from SirCharles， for I also had a thousand pounds left to me.”
“Indeed！ And anyone else？”
“There were many insignificant sums to individuals， and a largenumber of public charities. The residue all went to Sir Henry.”
“And how much was the residue？”
“Seven hundred and forty thousand pounds.”
Holmes raised his eyebrows in surprise. “I had no idea that sogigantic a sum was involved，” said he.
“Sir Charles had the reputation of being rich， but we didnot know how very rich he was until we came to examine hissecurities. The total value of the estate was close on to a million.”
“Dear me！ It is a stake for which a man might well play adesperate game. And one more question， Dr. Mortimer. Supposingthat anything happened to our young friend here—you will forgivethe unpleasant hypothesis！ —who would inherit the estate？”
“Since Rodger Baskerville， Sir Charles’s younger brother diedunmarried， the estate would descend to the Desmonds， whoare distant cousins. James Desmond is an elderly clergyman inWestmoreland.”
“Thank you. These details are all of great interest. Have you metMr. James Desmond？”
“Yes； he once came down to visit Sir Charles. He is a man ofvenerable appearance and of saintly life. I remember that herefused to accept any settlement from Sir Charles， though hepressed it upon him.”
“And this man of simple tastes would be the heir to Sir Charles’sthousands.”
“He would be the heir to the estate because that is entailed. Hewould also be the heir to the money unless it were willed otherwiseby the present owner， who can， of course， do what he likes with it.”
“And have you made your will， Sir Henry？”
“No， Mr. Holmes， I have not. I’ve had no time， for it was onlyyesterday that I learned how matters stood. But in any case I feelthat the money should go with the title and estate. That was mypoor uncle’s idea. How is the owner going to restore the gloriesof the Baskervilles if he has not money enough to keep up theproperty？ House， land， and dollars must go together.”
“Quite so. Well， Sir Henry， I am of one mind with you as tothe advisability of your going down to Devonshire without delay.
There is only one provision which I must make. You certainlymust not go alone.”
“Dr. Mortimer returns with me.”
“But Dr. Mortimer has his practice to attend to， and his houseis miles away from yours. With all the good will in the world hemay be unable to help you. No， Sir Henry， you must take with yousomeone， a trusty man， who will be always by your side.”
“Is it possible that you could come yourself， Mr. Holmes？”
“If matters came to a crisis I should endeavour to be present inperson； but you can understand that， with my extensive consultingpractice and with the constant appeals which reach me from manyquarters， it is impossible for me to be absent from London for anindefinite time. At the present instant one of the most reverednames in England is being besmirched by a blackmailer， and only Ican stop a disastrous scandal. You will see how impossible it is forme to go to Dartmoor.”
“Whom would you recommend， then？”
Holmes laid his hand upon my arm.
“If my friend would undertake it there is no man who is betterworth having at your side when you are in a tight place. No onecan say so more confidently than I.”
The proposition took me completely by surprise， but before Ihad time to answer， Baskerville seized me by the hand and wrungit heartily.
“Well， now， that is real kind of you， Dr. Watson，” said he. “Yousee how it is with me， and you know just as much about the matteras I do. If you will come down to Baskerville Hall and see methrough I’ll never forget it.”
The promise of adventure had always a fascination for me， andI was complimented by the words of Holmes and by the eagernesswith which the baronet hailed me as a companion.
“I will come， with pleasure，” said I. “I do not know how I couldemploy my time better.”
“And you will report very carefully to me，” said Holmes. “Whena crisis comes， as it will do， I will direct how you shall act. Isuppose that by Saturday all might be ready？”
“Would that suit Dr. Watson？”
“Perfectly.”
“Then on Saturday， unless you hear to the contrary， we shallmeet at the ten-thirty train from Paddington.”
We had risen to depart when Baskerville gave a cry， of triumph，and diving into one of the corners of the room he drew a brownboot from under a cabinet.
“My missing boot！” he cried.
“May all our difficulties vanish as easily！” said Sherlock Holmes.
“But it is a very singular thing，” Dr. Mortimer remarked. “Isearched this room carefully before lunch.”
“And so did I，” said Baskerville. “Every inch of it.”
“There was certainly no boot in it then.”
“In that case the waiter must have placed it there while we werelunching.”
The German was sent for but professed to know nothing ofthe matter， nor could any inquiry clear it up. Another item hadbeen added to that constant and apparently purposeless series ofsmall mysteries which had succeeded each other so rapidly. Settingaside the whole grim story of Sir Charles’s death， we had a lineof inexplicable incidents all within the limits of two days， whichincluded the receipt of the printed letter， the black-bearded spyin the hansom， the loss of the new brown boot， the loss of the oldblack boot， and now the return of the new brown boot. Holmessat in silence in the cab as we drove back to Baker Street， and Iknew from his drawn brows and keen face that his mind， like myown， was busy in endeavouring to frame some scheme into whichall these strange and apparently disconnected episodes couldbe fitted. All afternoon and late into the evening he sat lost intobacco and thought.
Just before dinner two telegrams were handed in. The first ran：
Have just heard that Barrymore is at the Hall.
BASKERVILLE.
The second：
“Visited twenty-three hotels as directed， but sorry， to report unableto trace cut sheet of Times.
CARTWRIGHT.
