You have ended by bringing about the
death of a noble man and driving his wife to suicide. That is
your record in this business, Mr. Abe Slaney, and you will
answer for it to the law.
"If Elsie dies, I care nothing what becomes of me," said the
American. He opened one of his hands, and looked at a note
crumpled up in his palm. "See here, mister," he cried, with a
gleam of suspicion in his eyes, "you're not trying to scare me
over this, are you? If the lady is hurt as bad as you say, who was
it that wrote this note?" He tossed it forward on to the table.
"I wrote it, to bring you here."
"You wrote it? There was no one on earth outside the Joint
who knew the secret of the dancing men. How came you to write
it?"
"What one man can invent another can discover," said Holmes.
"There is a cab coming to convey you to Norwich, Mr. Slaney.
But, meanwhile, you have time to make some small reparation
for the injury you have wrought. Are you aware that Mrs. Hilton
Cubitt has herself lain under grave suspicion of the murder of her
husband, and that it was only my presence here, and the knowl-
edge which I happened to possess, which has saved her from the
accusation? The least that you owe her is to make it clear to the
whole world that she was in no way, directly or indirectly,
responsible for his tragic end.
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