The Adventure of the Dancing Men - Page 2

at the absurd hieroglyphics upon the paper.

"Why, Holmes, it is a child's drawing," I cried.

"Oh, that's your idea!"

"What else should it be?"

"That is what Mr. Hilton Cubitt, of Riding Thorpe Manor,
Norfolk, is very anxious to know. This little conundrum came by
the first post, and he was to follow by the next train. There's
a ring at the bell, Watson. I should not be very much surprised
if this were he."

A heavy step was heard upon the stairs, and an instant later
there entered a tall, ruddy, clean-shaven gentleman, whose clear
eyes and florid cheeks told of a life led far from the fogs of
Baker Street. He seemed to bring a whiff of his strong, fresh,
bracing, east-coast air with him as he entered. Having shaken
hands with each of us, he was about to sit down, when his eye
rested upon the paper with the curious markings, which I had
just examined and left upon the table.

"Well, Mr. Holmes, what do you make of these?" he cried. "They
told me that you were fond of queer mysteries, and I don't think
you can find a queerer one than that. I sent the paper on ahead,
so that you might have time to study it before I came."

"It is certainly rather a curious production," said Holmes. "At
first sight it would appear to be some childish prank. It
consists of a number of absurd little figures dancing across the
paper upon which they are drawn. Why should you attribute any
importance to so grotesque an object?"

"I never should, Mr. Holmes. But my wife does. It is frightening
her to death. She says nothing, but I can see terror in her
eyes. That's why I want to sift the matter to the bottom."

Holmes held up the paper so that the sunlight shone full upon
it. It was a page torn from a notebook. The markings were done
in pencil, and ran in this way:

GRAPHIC

Holmes examined it for some time, and then, folding it carefully
up, he placed it in his pocketbook.

"This promises to be a most interesting and unusual case," said
he. "You gave me a few particulars in your letter, Mr. Hilton
Cubitt, but I should be very much obliged if you would kindly go
over it all again for the benefit of my friend, Dr. Watson."

"I'm not much of a story-teller," said our visitor, nervously
clasping and unclasping his great, strong hands. "You'll just
ask me anything that I don't make clear. I'll begin at the time
of my marriage last year, but I want to say first of all that,
though I'm not a rich man, my people have been at Riding Thorpe
for a matter of five centuries, and there is no better known
family in the County of Norfolk. Last year I came up to London
for the Jubilee, and I stopped at a boarding-house in Russell
Square, because Parker,