"It fits you kind of quick under the shoulders, Holmes, but I guess it will do," said the Earl, with a critical eye.
"What are you wearing those valet's clothes for, anyhow?" exclaimed Hicks.
Holmes winked his crafty old wink, and replied:
"Along about five-thirty this evening you'll find out, after I return from a little date I have made down at the village. It's twenty-five minutes of ten now, and a number of things may happen in between, so just keep your eyes peeled."
"This detective stuff is just one darned disguise after another, ain't it, Holmes? A little while ago you were a race-track loafer, now you're a valet, and Heaven only knows what you'll be to-morrow," said Launcelot, as he curled up in the window-seat and lit a cigarette.
"Well, I don't mind it," was Holmes's reply. "Now, Watson, I'll need you again. I've had my eye on a certain party since my deduction-trance yesterday noon, and was waiting for her sense of shame to impel her to confess her part in the cuff-button robbery; but since she has not as yet done so, I shall be forced to resort to sterner measures. Come with me, and leave these fellows to kill time any way they like until we return."
And the old sleuth started to lead me out of the room.
"She, did you say? Is one of the women servants guilty also?" queried the Earl.
"Well, why not?" snapped Holmes. "I don't believe in this doctrine of feminine impeccability. But don't try to spill the beans by getting me to reveal my hand before I've played it now. Good-by, George."
We left the room, going upstairs to the second floor, where Holmes tapped lightly on the door of the Countess's room.