leading me to a chair。
〃You're not hurt； Watson？ For God's sake； say that you are not
hurt！〃
It was worth a wound… it was worth many wounds… to know the depth of
loyalty and love which lay behind that cold mask。 The clear； hard eyes
were dimmed for a moment； and the firm lips were shaking。 For the
one and only time I caught a glimpse of a great heart as well as of
a great brain。 All my years of humble but single…minded service
culminated in that moment of revelation。
〃It's nothing； Holmes。 It's a mere scratch。〃
He had ripped up my trousers with his pocket…knife。
〃You are right；〃 fie c：ried with an immense sigh of relief。 〃It is
quite superficial。〃 His face set like flint as he glared at our
prisoner； who was sitting up with a dazed face。 〃By the Lord； it is as
well for you。 If you had killed Watson； you would not have got out
of this room alive。 Now； sir； what have you to say for yourself？〃
He had nothing to say for himself。 He only sat and scowled。 I leaned
on Holmes's arm； and together we looked down into the small cellar
which had been disclosed by the secret flap。 it was still
illuminated by the candle which Evans had taken down with him。 Our
eyes fell upon a mass of rusted machinery； great rolls of paper； a
litter of bottles； and； neatly arranged upon a small table； a number
of neat little bundies。
〃A printing press… a counterfeiter's outfit；〃 said Holmes。
〃Yes； sir；〃 said our prisoner； staggering slowly to his feet and
then sinking into the chair。 〃The greatest counterfeiter London ever
saw。 That's Prescott's machine； and those bundles on the table are two
thousand of Prescott's notes worth a hundred each and fit to pass
anywhere。 Help yourselves； gentlemen。 Call it a deal and let me beat
it。〃
Holmes laughed。
〃We don't do things like that； Mr。 Evans。 There is no bolt…hole
for you in this country。 You shot this man Prescott； did you not？〃
〃Yes； sir； and got five years for it； though it was he who pulled on
me。 Five years… when I should have had a medal the size of a soup
plate。 No living man could tell a Prescott from a Bank of England； and
if I hadn't put him out he would have flooded London with them。 I
was the only one in the world who knew where he made them。 Can you
wonder that I wanted to get to the place？ And can you wonder that when
I found this crazy boob of a bug…hunter with the queer name
squatting right on the top of it； and never quitting his room； I had
to do the best I could to shift him？ Maybe I would have been wiser
if I had put him away。 It would have been easy enough； but I'm a
soft…hearted guy that can't begin shooting unless the other man has
a gun also。 But say； Mr。 Holmes； what have I done wrong； anyhow？
I've not used this plant。 I've not hurt this old stiff。 Where do you
get me？〃
〃Only attempted murder； so far as I can see；〃 said Holmes。 〃But
that's not our job。 They take that at the next stage。 What we wanted
at present was just your sweet self。 Please give the Yard a call；
Watson。 It won't be entirely unexpected。〃
So those were the facts about Killer Evans and his remarkable
invention of the three Garridebs。 We heard later that our poor old
friend never got over the shock of his dissipated dreams。 When his
castle in the air fell down； it buried him beneath the ruins。 He was
last heard of at a nursing…home in Brixton。 It was a glad day at the
Yard when the Prescott outfit was discovered； for； though they knew
that it existed； they had never been able； after the death of the man；
to find out where it was。 Evans had indeed done great service and
caused several worthy C。I。D。 men to sleep the sounder； for the
counterfeiter stands in a class by himself as a public danger。 They
would willingly have subscribed to that soup…plate medal of which
the criminal had spoken； but an unappreciative bench took a less
favourable view； ind the Killer returned to those shades from which he
had just emerged。
THE END
。