Holmes had been seated for some hours in silence with his

long, thin back curved over a chemical vessel in which he was

brewing a particularly malodorous product. His head was sunk

upon his breast, and he looked from my point of view like a

strange, lank bird, with dull gray plumage and a black top-knot.

"So, Watson," said he, suddenly, "you do not propose to

invest in South African securities?"

I gave a start of astonishment. Accustomed as I was to Holmes's

curious faculties, this sudden intrusion into my most intimate

thoughts was utterly inexplicable.

"How on earth do you know that?" I asked.

He wheeled round upon his stool, with a steaming test-tube in

his hand, and a gleam of amusement in his deep-set eyes.

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