James M. Dodd

Well, it was his brow that I saw so clear.

It was pressed against the window.

Very well, Mr. Dodd.

The matter should certainly be inquired into.

I will go back with you to Tuxbury Old Park.

Oh, as it happens, I'm clearing up another matter at the moment.

Let us say the beginning of next week.

I shall be ready whenever you are, Mr. Holmes.

Oh, I shall also ask an old friend of mine to accompany us.

It is possible that his presence may be entirely unnecessary.

On the other hand, it may be essential.

The narratives of my friend Watson have shown, no doubt, that I do not waste words or disclose my thoughts while a case is under consideration.

In fact, my case was practically complete.

When we arrived at the strange old rambling house, I asked the elderly friend who had accompanied us to remain in the carriage unless we should summon him.

I had not introduced him to Dodd, who seemed surprised, but asked no questions.

The old butler, Ralph, opened the door to us.

He wore the conventional costume of black coat and pepper and salt trousers, with only one curious variant.

He had on brown leather gloves.

He shuffled them off at the sight of us, laying them down on the hall table.

I have, as Watson may sometimes have remarked, an abnormally acute set of senses, and a faint but incisive smell was apparent.