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the inference that you did from the dog's behavior?
Had you not, the great Silver Blaze might
never have been found. But to return to the Trelawney
affair, I see the similarity now. Since the dog,
Lama, and his master were constantly to gether,
no doubt the canine was in the murder room."
    "He
was. You will recall that the banker was seated
and struck from behind. The outer doors to the
house were not locked. Anyone might have entered, and the elderly
gentleman could well have been dozing in
his chair. But the prosecution will contend
that had a stranger entered the house, the dog would have certainly
alerted his master to the fact. However,
Charles Trelawney was no stranger. Hence,
it is the dog that may weave the rope that hangs
him for murder."
    This
puzzled me. "My dear Holmes, instead of enjoying
a quiet dinner we have two middle-aged men
flying westward on what seems to be an open- and-shut
case."
    "Ah,
but there is always a little more than meets the
eye. I deduce this partially from items in the news
accounts and also from the fact that Constable Bennett sent a
plea for assistance. John Bennett,
though buried in a backwater village, has carefully
schooled himself in the latest methods of crime
detection. I have carried on an intermittent correspondence
with him for some time. He is alert and
efficient. If he feels there are doubts and unresolved
elements relative to this homicide, I am prepared
to trust his instincts. Also, it would seem that
the peaceful hamlet of Shaw was, in times gone
by, the scene of deep-seated enmities and bloodshed.
But these facets will be polished for us by
the good constable upon our arrival."
    When
the train halted at the small station of Shaw,
we were the only travelers to alight. A tall individual in a
square-cut uniform coat with hat, who had been pacing the station
platform, hurried to our side.
    "Mr.
Holmes," he said. "It is certainly a plea sure."
    "It
has been a while, Bennett," stated Holmes. "This
is my associate, Dr. Watson."
    Shaking
hands with the constable, I wondered under
what circumstances this country policeman and
Holmes had met previously.
    "I
have rooms for you at the Queens Arms, which is
our only inn hereabouts. It is but a short distance from
here. The proprietor's wife is laying out a cold supper.
Considering the time of your departure from
London, I would imagine you could both do with
a bite."
    Bennett
took the larger suitcase from me and led us
down the street. In a short time we were in a pleasant
room in the inn enjoying some excellent cold
roast beef and a very tasty game pie.
    Constable
Bennett joined us in a yard of stout and
lit up a cigar . As
he ignited it and drew a first puff, he snatched the cigar from his
mouth with an exclamation of surprise.
    "How
strange that I should decide to smoke this at
such a time since it was a gift from the murdered man!"
    "An
Indian cigar," commented Holmes, "of the type
rolled in Amsterdam."
    "As
to the murder, gentleman," said Bennett, "I trust the
journals I sent provided some informa tion."
    "In
outline form," was Holmes' response. "I was immediately
intrigued by the fact that you were able
to establish the time of death as between eight and
ten on the fatal night."
    "Fortunate
happenstance," replied the constable. "At
eleven, young Charles Trelawney came bolting out
of his adopted father's house and almost ran into
my arms. I was making a final round of the night
just to make sure things were in order. I had just
seen Dr. Devon Almont right here in the Queens
Arms in the pub."
    "Almont?"
I asked with considerable surprise.
    "He
retired two years ago and came to live here," explained
Bennett.
    "I
didn't know that. Naturally, I've read his articles
in Lancet with
great interest."
    "You
were fortunate, Bennett," stated Holmes, "to have one of
the foremost pathologists in the world
at your beck and call."
    "I
certainly beckoned," replied Bennett. "When young
Charles told me that he had found Ezariah Trelawney with his