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Part II: The Country of the Saints. | Arthur Conan Doyle | |
A Continuation Of The Reminiscences Of John Watson, M.D. |
Page 1 of 8 |
OUR prisoner's furious resistance did not apparently indicate any ferocity in his disposition towards ourselves, for on finding himself powerless, he smiled in an affable manner, and expressed his hopes that he had not hurt any of us in the scuffle. "I guess you're going to take me to the police-station," he remarked to Sherlock Holmes. "My cab's at the door. If you'll loose my legs I'll walk down to it. I'm not so light to lift as I used to be." Gregson and Lestrade exchanged glances as if they thought this proposition rather a bold one; but Holmes at once took the prisoner at his word, and loosened the towel which we had bound round his ancles. [1] He rose and stretched his legs, as though to assure himself that they were free once more. I remember that I thought to myself, as I eyed him, that I had seldom seen a more powerfully built man; and his dark sunburned face bore an expression of determination and energy which was as formidable as his personal strength. "If there's a vacant place for a chief of the police, I reckon you are the man for it," he said, gazing with undisguised admiration at my fellow-lodger. "The way you kept on my trail was a caution." "You had better come with me," said Holmes to the two detectives. "I can drive you," said Lestrade. "Good! and Gregson can come inside with me. You too, Doctor, you have taken an interest in the case and may as well stick to us." |
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A Study In Scarlet Arthur Conan Doyle |
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