"The pencil-sharpener!" he said.
"Have you got a clue?" I asked. But he could hardly speak for excitement, and forgot to put his hands like Holmes, or to try and arrange a 'far-away' look on his face, or anything.
"Not only a clue," he said, "I know who took it!"
"This will be a great score for you when it comes out," I said.
"You swear you won't breathe a word?" he asked.
And I swore. Then he whispered the fearful news into my ear.
"The Doctor's taken it!" he said.
"He never would," I answered. "Pratt is positive that he left it in his desk."
"It is a case of purloining," said Peters; "and wish it had happened to anybody else but the Doctor. It's rather terrible in its way; because if once gets this habit and yields to temptation, his unlimited power, who is safe?"
"It's much more a thing Browne would have done," I said, meaning a particularly hateful roaster who wore pink ties and elastic-sided boots.