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I
picked it up from the carpet. Here it is!"
Holmes held it out to me. "A soft revolver bullet, as you
perceive, Watson. There's genius in that, for who would expect
to find such a thing fired from an air-gun? All right, Mrs. Hudson.
I am much obliged for your assistance. And now. Watson, let me
see you in your old seat once more, for there are several points
which I should like to discuss with you."
He had thrown off the seedy frockcoat, and now he was the
Holmes of old in the mouse-coloured dressing-gown which he
took from his effigy.
"The old shikari's nerves have not lost their steadiness, nor
his eyes their keenness," said he, with a laugh, as he inspected
the shattered forehead of his bust.
"Plumb in the middle of the back of the head and smack
through the brain. He was the best shot in India, and I expect
that there are few better in London. Have you heard the name?"
"No, I have not."
"Well, well, such is fame! But, then, if I remember right,
you had not heard the name of Professor James Moriarty, who
had one of the great brains of the century.


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