Adventure IX. THE ADVENTURE OF THE ENGINEER'S THUMB

Of all the problems which have been submitted to my friend, Mr. Sherlock

Holmes, for solution during the years of our intimacy, there were only two which I

was the means of introducing to his notice-

-that of Mr. Hatherley's thumb, and that of Colonel Warburton's madness.

Of these the latter may have afforded a finer field for an acute and original

observer, but the other was so strange in its inception and so dramatic in its

details that it may be the more worthy of

being placed upon record, even if it gave my friend fewer openings for those

deductive methods of reasoning by which he achieved such remarkable results.

The story has, I believe, been told more than once in the newspapers, but, like all

such narratives, its effect is much less striking when set forth en bloc in a single

half-column of print than when the facts

slowly evolve before your own eyes, and the mystery clears gradually away as each new

discovery furnishes a step which leads on to the complete truth.

At the time the circumstances made a deep impression upon me, and the lapse of two

years has hardly served to weaken the effect.

It was in the summer of '89, not long after my marriage, that the events occurred which

I am now about to summarise.

I had returned to civil practice and had finally abandoned Holmes in his Baker

Street rooms, although I continually visited him and occasionally even persuaded

him to forgo his Bohemian habits so far as to come and visit us.

My practice had steadily increased, and as I happened to live at no very great

distance from Paddington Station, I got a few patients from among the officials.

One of these, whom I had cured of a painful and lingering disease, was never weary of

advertising my virtues and of endeavouring to send me on every sufferer over whom he

might have any influence.

One morning, at a little before seven o'clock, I was awakened by the maid tapping

at the door to announce that two men had come from Paddington and were waiting in

the consulting-room.

I dressed hurriedly, for I knew by experience that railway cases were seldom

trivial, and hastened downstairs.

As I descended, my old ally, the guard, came out of the room and closed the door

tightly behind him.

"I've got him here," he whispered, jerking his thumb over his shoulder; "he's all

right." "What is it, then?"

I asked, for his manner suggested that it was some strange creature which he had

caged up in my room. "It's a new patient," he whispered.

"I thought I'd bring him round myself; then he couldn't slip away.

There he is, all safe and sound. I must go now, Doctor; I have my dooties,

just the same as you."

And off he went, this trusty tout, without even giving me time to thank him.

I entered my consulting-room and found a gentleman seated by the table.

He was quietly dressed in a suit of heather tweed with a soft cloth cap which he had

laid down upon my books.

Round one of his hands he had a handkerchief wrapped, which was mottled all

over with bloodstains.

He was young, not more than five-and- twenty, I should say, with a strong,

masculine face; but he was exceedingly pale and gave me the impression of a man who was

suffering from some strong agitation, which

it took all his strength of mind to control.

"I am sorry to knock you up so early, Doctor," said he, "but I have had a very

serious accident during the night.

I came in by train this morning, and on inquiring at Paddington as to where I might

find a doctor, a worthy fellow very kindly escorted me here.

I gave the maid a card, but I see that she has left it upon the side-table."

I took it up and glanced at it. "Mr. Victor Hatherley, hydraulic engineer,

16A, Victoria Street (3rd floor)."

That was the name, style, and abode of my morning visitor.

"I regret that I have kept you waiting," said I, sitting down in my library-chair.

"You are fresh from a night journey, I understand, which is in itself a monotonous

occupation." "Oh, my night could not be called

monotonous," said he, and laughed.

He laughed very heartily, with a high, ringing note, leaning back in his chair and

shaking his sides. All my medical instincts rose up against

that laugh.

"Stop it!" I cried; "pull yourself together!" and I

poured out some water from a caraffe. It was useless, however.

He was off in one of those hysterical outbursts which come upon a strong nature

when some great crisis is over and gone. Presently he came to himself once more,

very weary and pale-looking.

"I have been making a fool of myself," he gasped.

"Not at all. Drink this."

I dashed some brandy into the water, and the colour began to come back to his

bloodless cheeks. "That's better!" said he.

"And now, Doctor, perhaps you would kindly attend to my thumb, or rather to the place

where my thumb used to be." He unwound the handkerchief and held out

his hand.

It gave even my hardened nerves a shudder to look at it.

There were four protruding fingers and a horrid red, spongy surface where the thumb

should have been.

It had been hacked or torn right out from the roots.

"Good heavens!" I cried, "this is a terrible injury.

It must have bled considerably."

"Yes, it did. I fainted when it was done, and I think

that I must have been senseless for a long time.

When I came to I found that it was still bleeding, so I tied one end of my

handkerchief very tightly round the wrist and braced it up with a twig."

"Excellent!

You should have been a surgeon." "It is a question of hydraulics, you see,

and came within my own province."

"This has been done," said I, examining the wound, "by a very heavy and sharp

instrument." "A thing like a cleaver," said he.

"An accident, I presume?"

"By no means." "What! a murderous attack?"

"Very murderous indeed." "You horrify me."

I sponged the wound, cleaned it, dressed it, and finally covered it over with cotton

wadding and carbolised bandages. He lay back without wincing, though he bit

his lip from time to time.

"How is that?" I asked when I had finished.

"Capital! Between your brandy and your bandage, I

feel a new man.

I was very weak, but I have had a good deal to go through."

"Perhaps you had better not speak of the matter.

It is evidently trying to your nerves."

"Oh, no, not now.

I shall have to tell my tale to the police; but, between ourselves, if it were not for

the convincing evidence of this wound of mine, I should be surprised if they

believed my statement, for it is a very

extraordinary one, and I have not much in the way of proof with which to back it up;

and, even if they believe me, the clues which I can give them are so vague that it

is a question whether justice will be done."

"Ha!" cried I, "if it is anything in the nature of a problem which you desire to see

solved, I should strongly recommend you to come to my friend, Mr. Sherlock Holmes,

before you go to the official police."

"Oh, I have heard of that fellow," answered my visitor, "and I should be very glad if

he would take the matter up, though of course I must use the official police as

well.

Would you give me an introduction to him?" "I'll do better.

I'll take you round to him myself." "I should be immensely obliged to you."

"We'll call a cab and go together.

We shall just be in time to have a little breakfast with him.

Do you feel equal to it?" "Yes; I shall not feel easy until I have

told my story."

"Then my servant will call a cab, and I shall be with you in an instant."

I rushed upstairs, explained the matter shortly to my wife, and in five minutes was

inside a hansom, driving with my new acquaintance to Baker Street.

Sherlock Holmes was, as I expected, lounging about his sitting-room in his

dressing-gown, reading the agony column of The Times and smoking his before-breakfast

pipe, which was composed of all the plugs

and dottles left from his smokes of the day before, all carefully dried and collected

on the corner of the mantelpiece.

He received us in his quietly genial fashion, ordered fresh rashers and eggs,

and joined us in a hearty meal.

When it was concluded he settled our new acquaintance upon the sofa, placed a pillow

beneath his head, and laid a glass of brandy and water within his reach.

"It is easy to see that your experience has been no common one, Mr. Hatherley," said

he. "Pray, lie down there and make yourself

absolutely at home.

Tell us what you can, but stop when you are tired and keep up your strength with a

little stimulant."

"Thank you," said my patient, "but I have felt another man since the doctor bandaged

me, and I think that your breakfast has completed the cure.

I shall take up as little of your valuable time as possible, so I shall start at once

upon my peculiar experiences."

Holmes sat in his big armchair with the weary, heavy-lidded expression which veiled

his keen and eager nature, while I sat opposite to him, and we listened in silence

to the strange story which our visitor detailed to us.

"You must know," said he, "that I am an orphan and a bachelor, residing alone in

lodgings in London.

By profession I am a hydraulic engineer, and I have had considerable experience of

my work during the seven years that I was apprenticed to Venner & Matheson, the well-

known firm, of Greenwich.

Two years ago, having served my time, and having also come into a fair sum of money

through my poor father's death, I determined to start in business for myself

and took professional chambers in Victoria Street.

"I suppose that everyone finds his first independent start in business a dreary

experience.

To me it has been exceptionally so. During two years I have had three

consultations and one small job, and that is absolutely all that my profession has

brought me.

My gross takings amount to 27 pounds 10s.

Every day, from nine in the morning until four in the afternoon, I waited in my

little den, until at last my heart began to sink, and I came to believe that I should

never have any practice at all.

"Yesterday, however, just as I was thinking of leaving the office, my clerk entered to

say there was a gentleman waiting who wished to see me upon business.

He brought up a card, too, with the name of 'Colonel Lysander Stark' engraved upon it.

Close at his heels came the colonel himself, a man rather over the middle size,

but of an exceeding thinness.

I do not think that I have ever seen so thin a man.

His whole face sharpened away into nose and chin, and the skin of his cheeks was drawn

quite tense over his outstanding bones.

Yet this emaciation seemed to be his natural habit, and due to no disease, for

his eye was bright, his step brisk, and his bearing assured.

He was plainly but neatly dressed, and his age, I should judge, would be nearer forty

than thirty. "'Mr. Hatherley?' said he, with something

of a German accent.

'You have been recommended to me, Mr. Hatherley, as being a man who is not only

proficient in his profession but is also discreet and capable of preserving a

secret.'

"I bowed, feeling as flattered as any young man would at such an address.

'May I ask who it was who gave me so good a character?'

"'Well, perhaps it is better that I should not tell you that just at this moment.

I have it from the same source that you are both an orphan and a bachelor and are

residing alone in London.'

"'That is quite correct,' I answered; 'but you will excuse me if I say that I cannot

see how all this bears upon my professional qualifications.

I understand that it was on a professional matter that you wished to speak to me?'

"'Undoubtedly so. But you will find that all I say is really

to the point.

I have a professional commission for you, but absolute secrecy is quite essential--

absolute secrecy, you understand, and of course we may expect that more from a man

who is alone than from one who lives in the bosom of his family.'

"'If I promise to keep a secret,' said I, 'you may absolutely depend upon my doing

so.'

"He looked very hard at me as I spoke, and it seemed to me that I had never seen so

suspicious and questioning an eye. "'Do you promise, then?' said he at last.

"'Yes, I promise.'

"'Absolute and complete silence before, during, and after?

No reference to the matter at all, either in word or writing?'

"'I have already given you my word.'

"'Very good.' He suddenly sprang up, and darting like

lightning across the room he flung open the door.

The passage outside was empty.

"'That's all right,' said he, coming back. 'I know that clerks are sometimes curious