His Last Bow: An Epilogue of Sherlock Holmes

ahundred guys all ready to set the coppers wise to him. But now there isSteiner--"

  Von Bork started violently, and his ruddy face turned a shade paler.

  "What about Steiner?"

  "Well, they've got him, that's all. They raided his store last night,and he and his papers are all in Portsmouth jail. You'll go off andhe, poor devil, will have to stand the racket, and lucky if he gets offwith his life. That's why I want to get over the water as soon as youdo."

  Von Bork was a strong, self-contained man, but it was easy to see thatthe news had shaken him.

  "How could they have got on to Steiner?" he muttered. "That's theworst blow yet."

  "Well, you nearly had a worse one, for I believe they are not far offme."

  "You don't mean that!"

  "Sure thing. My landlady down Fratton way had some inquiries, and whenI heard of it I guessed it was time for me to hustle. But what I wantto know, mister, is how the coppers know these things? Steiner is thefifth man you've lost since I signed on with you, and I know the nameof the sixth if I don't get a move on. How do you explain it, andain't you ashamed to see your men go down like this?"

  Von Bork flushed crimson.

  "How dare you speak in such a way!"

  "If I didn't dare things, mister, I wouldn't be in your service. ButI'll tell you straight what is in my mind. I've heard that with youGerman politicians when an agent has done his work you are not sorry tosee him put away."

  Von Bork sprang to his feet.

  "Do you dare to suggest that I have given away my own agents!"

  "I don't stand for that, mister, but there's a stool pigeon or a crosssomewhere, and it's up to you to find out where it is. Anyhow I amtaking no more chances. It's me for little Holland, and the sooner thebetter."

  Von Bork had mastered his anger.

  "We have been allies too long to quarrel now at the very hour ofvictory," he said. "You've done splendid work and taken risks, and Ican't forget it. By all means go to Holland, and you can get a boatfrom Rotterdam to New York. No other line will be safe a week fromnow. I'll take that book and pack it with the rest."

  The American held the small parcel in his hand, but made no motion togive it up.

  "What about the dough?" he asked.

  "The what?"

  "The boodle. The reward. The 500 pounds. The gunner turned damnednasty at the last, and I had to square him with an extra hundreddollars or it would have been nitsky for you and me. 'Nothin' doin'!'says he, and he meant it, too, but the last hundred did it. It's costme two hundred pound from first to last, so it isn't likely I'd give itup without gettin' my wad."

  Von Bork smiled with some bitterness. "You don't seem to have a veryhigh opinion of my honour," said he, "you want the money before yougive up the book."

  "Well, mister, it is a business proposition."

  "All right. Have your way." He sat down at the table and scribbled acheck, which he tore from the book, but he refrained from handing it tohis companion. "After all, since we are to be on such terms, Mr.Altamont," said he, "I don't see why I should trust you any more thanyou trust me. Do you understand?" he added, looking back over hisshoulder at the American. "There's the check upon the table. I claimthe right to examine that parcel before you pick the money up."

  The American passed it over without a word. Von Bork undid a windingof string and two wrappers of paper. Then he sat gazing for a momentin silent amazement at a small blue book which lay before him. Acrossthe cover was printed in golden letters Practical Handbook of BeeCulture. Only for one instant did the master spy glare at thisstrangely irrelevant inscription. The next he was gripped at the backof his neck by a grasp of iron, and a chloroformed sponge was held infront of his writhing face.

  "Another glass, Watson!" said Mr. Sherlock Holmes as he extended thebottle of Imperial Tokay.

  The thickset chauffeur, who had seated himself by the table, pushedforward his glass with some eagerness.

  "It is a good wine, Holmes."

  "A remarkable wine, Watson. Our friend upon the sofa has assured methat it is from Franz Josef's special cellar at the Schoenbrunn Palace.Might I trouble you to open the window, for chloroform vapour does nothelp the palate."

  The safe was ajar, and Holmes standing in front of it was removingdossier after dossier, swiftly examining each, and then packing itneatly in Von Bork's valise. The German lay upon the sofa sleepingstertorously with a strap round his upper arms and another round hislegs.

  "We need not hurry ourselves, Watson. We are safe from interruption.Would you mind touching the bell? There is no one in the house exceptold Martha, who has played her part to admiration. I got her thesituation here when first I took the matter up. Ah, Martha, you will beglad to hear that all is well."

  The pleasant old lady had appeared in the doorway. She curtseyed witha smile to Mr. Holmes, but glanced with some apprehension at the figureupon the sofa.

  "It is all right, Martha. He has not been hurt at all."

  "I am glad of that, Mr. Holmes. According to his lights he has been akind master. He wanted me to go with his wife to Germany yesterday,but that would hardly have suited your plans, would it, sir?"

  "No, indeed, Martha. So long as you were here I was easy in my mind.We waited some time for your signal to-night."

  "It was the secretary, sir."

  "I know. His car passed ours."

  "I thought he would never go. I knew that it would not suit yourplans, sir, to find him here."

  "No, indeed. Well, it only meant that we waited half an hour or sountil I saw your lamp go out and knew that the coast was clear. Youcan report to me to-morrow in London, Martha, at Claridge's Hotel."

  "Very good, sir."

  "I suppose you have everything ready to leave."

  "Yes, sir. He posted seven letters to-day. I have the addresses asusual."

  "Very good, Martha. I will look into them to-morrow. Good-night.These papers," he continued as the old lady vanished, "are not of verygreat importance, for, of course, the information which they representhas been sent off long ago to the German government. These are theoriginals which could not safely be got out of the country."

  "Then they are of no use."

  "I should not go so far as to say that, Watson. They will at leastshow our people what is known and what is not. I may say that a goodmany of these papers have come through me, and I need not add arethoroughly untrustworthy. It would brighten my declining years to seea German cruiser navigating the Solent according to the mine-fieldplans which I have furnished. But you, Watson"--he stopped his workand took his old friend by the shoulders--"I've hardly seen you in thelight yet. How have the years used you? You look the same blithe boyas ever."

  "I feel twenty years younger, Holmes. I have seldom felt so happy aswhen I got your wire asking me to meet you at Harwich with the car.But you, Holmes--you have changed very little--save for that horriblegoatee."

  "These are the sacrifices one makes for one's country, Watson," saidHolmes, pulling at his little tuft. "To-morrow it will be but adreadful memory. With my hair cut and a few other superficial changesI shall no doubt reappear at Claridge's to-morrow as I was before thisAmerican stunt--I beg your pardon, Watson, my well of English seems tobe permanently defiled--before this American job came my way."

  "But you have retired, Holmes. We heard of you as living the life of ahermit among your bees and your books in a small farm upon the SouthDowns."

  "Exactly, Watson. Here is the fruit of my leisured ease, the magnumopus of my latter years!" He picked up the volume from the table andread out the whole title, Practical Handbook of Bee Culture, with SomeObservations upon the Segregation of the Queen. "Alone I did it.Behold the fruit of pensive nights and laborious days when I watchedthe little working gangs as once I watched the criminal world ofLondon."

  "But how did you get to work again?"

  "Ah, I have often marvelled at it myself. The Foreign Minister alone Icould have withstood,
but when the Premier also deigned to visit myhumble roof--! The fact is, Watson, that this gentleman upon the sofawas a bit too good for our people. He was in a class by himself.Things were going wrong, and no one could understand why they weregoing wrong. Agents were suspected or even caught, but there wasevidence of some strong and secret central force. It was absolutelynecessary to expose it. Strong pressure was brought upon me to lookinto the matter. It has cost me two years, Watson, but they have notbeen devoid of excitement. When I say that I started my pilgrimage atChicago, graduated in an Irish