Produced by Al Haines.
*SOME ADVENTURES *_*of*_* MR. SURELOCK KEYS*
*HITHERTO UNRECORDED*
by
Herbert Beeman
SOLD IN AID OF THE ORGAN FUND OF ST. MARY'S CHURCH, KERRISDALE
PRICE FIFTY CENTS
THE KERRISDALE KRONIKLE OFFICE 1913
*CONTENTS*
I. THE ADVENTURE OF THE STEVESTON CAR II. THE ADVENTURE OF THE IRATE HOUSE-HOLDER III. THE ADVENTURE OF TWO AND TWO IV. THE ADVENTURE OF THEOPHILUS BROWN V. THE ADVENTURE OF THE THIRTEEN CABS VI. THE ADVENTURE OF MR. SANTA CLAUS
*I.*
*THE ADVENTURE OF THE STEVESTON CAR*
One evening early in the month of November, 1908, we were sitting in ourcosy rooms in Butcher Street. I was busy extending the notes I had madeof some of the marvellous doings of the Great Detective, when Keysstretched his long arms towards the gramophone to start the gentlemanwho was "afraid to go home in the dark," off on another long explanationof his reasons, but I stopped him with a question--even friendship hasits limits, you know:
"You saw the _Eburne News_ of Saturday last, Keys, I suppose?" I said.
"You know nothing ever escapes me, Whenson," he replied.
I thought of the Tiger of San Pedro in _Collier's_ and _The Strand_recently, but as it would be about as safe to rouse the tiger, I omittedthe retort obvious.
"You refer to the penetration of the vitrified material by the leadenmissile, I presume?" he said.
"Yes, the bullet from a .22 through the car window," I replied.
"Well, there was one peculiar thing about that case, but after all itwas merely a matter of calculation. The shot was fired according to oneaccount at Kerrisdale, and from another between Townsend and Eburne.That is easily accounted for. The shot struck the glass at the firstnamed place, but so fast was the car travelling that it had proceededtwo miles before the bullet reached the woodwork on the other side."
"Oh!" I said. When I had sufficiently recovered I asked him if he haddiscovered who fired the shot.
"That is a mere vulgar detail, Whenson," he said coldly, as he turned tostart the gramophone again.
*II.*
*THE ADVENTURE OF THE IRATE HOUSE-HOLDER*
We were just finishing breakfast when the door was unceremoniously burstopen and an obviously excited little man precipitated himself into theroom.
"You are an optimist, I perceive," said Keys quietly.
The little man looked amazed, as well he might, not knowing the powersof the Great Detective as well as I did.
"How on earth did you know that?" he ejaculated.
"Quite simple, my dear sir," answered Keys, "you came in withoutknocking. What can I do for you?"
"Well, sir," the little man went on excitedly, "my name is Bloggs, sir,Joseph Bloggs, and I am the victim of a conspiracy. The Council havesent me in a bill for $96 for three months water rate, and I never usedso much in my life.
"No, I can quite believe it," said Keys drily, surveying the rather drabappearance of the visible portions of our visitor's anatomy. "But whomdo you suspect?"
"Well, sir, I voted against the nincompoops that the effete electorshave chosen to represent them, and now they're soaking me."
I could not control my laughter at this unconscious pleasantry, but thelittle man glared at me, and Keys frowned me into silence.
"Whenson, he has given me a clue; get my gum boots and a piece ofblotting paper."
Accustomed to obey his strange commands without question, we were soonfollowing Mr. Bloggs to his home.
Once inside the gate, without hesitation Keys strode across the lawntill he reached a place under which, owing to the unevenness of theground, it was easy to see the pipe was laid, and stooping down heplaced the sheet of blotting paper on the grass, and a second later heheld it up saturated with water.
"There is a break in the pipe, Mr. Bloggs," he said. "Get it mended."