r~—~ The Return of Sherlock Holmes BY A. CONAN DOYLE. Capyrijat. »03. C»Wri5years 1894 to 1901 tn elusive, Sheri ock Holmes was a very busy man. It is safe to say that there was n o public case of any lifflcultyln which he was not c o n suited during those eight i years, and there were h u n dreds j of private cases, some of them of the most Intri cate and extraordinary character, in which he played a prominent part. Many startling successes and a few un avoidable failures were the outcome of this long period of continuous work. As 1 have preserved very full notes of all these cases, and was myself person ally engaged in many of them, it may be imagined that it Is no easy task to know which I should select to lay be fore the public. I shall, however, pre serve my former rule, and give the preference to those ca ea which derive their interest not so much from the brutality of the crime as from the In genuity and dramatic quality of the solution. For this reason I will now lay before the reader the facts con nected with Miss Violet Smith, the solitary cyclist of Charllngton, and the curious sequel of our investigation. Diun't r\now. Cluest at Country Hotel—Where's the lavatory? Landlord—I don't know no such hotel In town. This is the Feequod house. I which culminated In unexpected trag | edy. It is true that the circumstance I did not admit of any striking lllustra , tlon of those powers for which my friends was famous, but there were ' some points about the case which made ! it stand out In these long records of i crime from whlen I gather the ma terial for (.her little narratives. On referring to my note book for the 1 year 1x35. I find that it was upon Sat : arday. the 23rd of April, that we llrst heard of Miss Violet Smith. Her visit was. 1 remember, extremely unwelcome | to Holmes, for he was Immersed at the j moment In a very abtruse and compli ! cat -1 problem concerning the peculiar i persecution to which John Vincent , Harden, the well known tobacco mll I llonai-e had been subjected. My friend, i who loved above all things precision I and concentration of thought, resented | anything which distracted his atten ! tlon from the matter In hand. And yet. without a harshness which was foreign to his nature, it was impossible to refuse to listen to the story of the young and beautiful woman, tall, graceful and queenly, who presented herself at Baker street late in the even ing ami Implored his assistance and advice. It was in vain to urge that his time was already fully occupied, for the young lady had come with the de termination to tell her story, and it was evident that nothing short of force could get her out of the room until she had done so. With a resigned air and a somewhat weary smile, Holmes begged the beautiful Intruder to take a seat, and to inform us what it was that was troubling her. “At least it cannot be your health," said lie. as his keen eyes darted over her; “so ardent a bicyclist must be full of energy.” She glanced down in surprise at her own feet, and I observed the slight roughening of the side of the sole caused by the filotion of the edge of the pedal. “Yes, 1 bicycle a good deal, Mr. Holmes, and that has something to do with my visit to you today." My friend took the lady’s ungloved hand and examined It with an close attention and as little sentiment as a scientist would show to a specimen. “You will excuse me, I am sure. It Is my business,” said he, as he dropped It. "I nearly fell into the error of suppos ing that you were typewriting. Of course, it Is obvious that It is music. You observe the snatulate finger ends, Watson, which is common to both pro fessions? There Is a spirituality about the face, however”—she gently turned It towards the light—"which the type writer does not generate. This lady is a musician.” “Yes. Mr. Holmes, I teach music.” “In the country, I presume, from your complexion?" "Yes, sir, near Farnham, on the bor ders of Surrey.” “A beautiful neighborhood, and full of the most Interesting associations. You remember, Watson, that it was near there that, we took Archie Stam ford. the forger. Now, Miss Violet, what has happened to you, near Farn ham, on the borders of Surrey?" The young lady, with great clearness and composure, made the following curious statement: My father is dead, Mr. Holmes. He was James Smith, who conducted the orchestra at the old Imperial theater. My mother and I were left without a relation In the world except one uncle, Ralph Smith, who went to Africa twen ty-live years ago, and we have never had a word from him since. When father died we were left very poor, but one day we were told that there was an advertisement in the Times, Inquir ing for our whereabouts. You can im agine how excited we were, for we thought that someone had left us a fortune. Wp went at once to the law yer whose name was given in thejpa l>er. There we met two gentlemen, Mr. Carruthers and Mr. Woodley, who were home on a visit from South Afli ra. They said that my uncle was a friend of theirs, that he had died some months before in great poverty in Johannesburg, and that he had asked them with his last breath to huht up his relations and see that they were In no want. It seemed strange to us that Uncle Ralph, who took no notice of us when he was alive, should be so care ful to look after us when he was dead, but Mr. Carruthers explained that the reason was that my uncle had just heard of the death of his brother, and so felt responsible for our fate.” “Excuse me,” said Holmes. "When was this Interview?” “East December—four months ago.” “Pray proceed." “Mr. Woodley seemed to me to be a most odious person. He was for ever making eyes at me—a coarse, puffy faced, red-mustaclied young man, with his hair plastered down on each side of his forehead. I thought that he was perfectly hateful—and I was sure that Cyril would not wish me to know such a person.” "Oh, Cyril is his name!” said Holmes, smiling. The young lady blushed and laughed. “Yes, Mr. Holmes, Cyril Mor ton, an electrical engineer, and we hope t6 be married at the end of the summer. Dear me. how did 1 get talking about him? What I wished to say was that Mr. Woodley was perfectly odious, but that Mr. Car ruthers. who was a much older man. was more agreeable. He was a dark, sallow, clean shaven, silent person, but he had polite manners and a pleasant smile. He inquired how we were left, and on finding that we were very poor, he suggested that I should come and teach music to his only daughter, aged ten. I said that I did not like to leave my mother, on which he suggested that I should go home to her every week end, and he offered me a hundred a year, which was certainly splendid pay. So it ended by my accepting, and I went down to Chlltern Grange, about six miles from Farnhatn. Mr. Car ruthers was a widower, but he bad en gaged a lady housekeeper, a very re spectable, elderly person, called Mrs. Dixon, to look after his establishment. The child was a dear, and everything promised well. Mr. Carruthers was very kind and very musical, and we had most pleasant evenings together. Every week end 1 went home to my mother In town. (Continued Next Week) Animate and Fire. Chicago Journal: Most animals are afraid of (ire and will fly from it In ter ror. To others there is a fascination about a flame, and they will walk Into it, even though tortured by the heat. A horse in a burning stable goes mad with fear, but a dog is as cool in a lire as at any time. He keeps his nose down to the floor, where the air is pur est, and sots himself calmly to finding i his way out. Cats in tires howl piteously. They hide their faces from the light and crouch in corners. When their rescuer lifts them they are as a rule quite do cile and subdued, never biting or scratching. Birds seem to be hypnotized by fire and keep perfectly still: even the lo quacious parrot In a fire has nothing to say. Cows, like dogs, do not show alarm. They are easy to lead forth, and often And their way out themselves. The first bomb outrage occurred on Christmas eve, 1800, when St. Najant tried to kill Napoleon. More than 130 people were Injured by the explosion. ■J Knew His Uncle Dudley. Robert had often seen his Uncle Fred buying groceries from the hucksters. On# day ills uncle noticed the little boy shak ing his toy bank. "How much money have you, Robert?” he asked. "Two cents.” was the answer. “Now, if I should give you four cents more, how much would you have then?" "Ten cents.” “No you wouldn't." corrected Uncle Fred, “you would then have six cents.” "I knew It," defended the boy. “I knew It, but I was sure you would try to beat me down.” Gun Cotton as Fuel. “Bight another hundred-foot candle of condensed gun cotton! We must make the next mile In less than a minute!" That command, or something like It, will bo given by the commander of a United States torpedo-boat In the next war In which this country may unhappily be en gaged, writes Mr, W. R. Stewart In Tech nical World Magazine for April. It will not mean that, finding his ship In a des perate situation, the captain has decided to blow himself and hts whole command out of the water. It will signify only the adoption as emergency fuel of the wan derful new compound, “motorite," a secret composition of gun cotton and nltro-gly cerine, invented by Hiram Maxim, whose “Maximite" Is the high explosive now used by the government In submarine torpedoes. Motorite for fuel use Is packed In long steel tubes and under forced draft can fur nish an almost unlimited amount of power for a short distance. A COLD BROUGHT IT ON. Severe Congestion of the Kidneys Soon Cared by Doan’s Kidney Fills. Richard M. Pearce, a prominent business man, of 231 South Orange street, Newark, N. J., says: "Work ing nights during bad weather brought on a heavy cold, ach ing of the limbs and pain in the back and kidneys. Severe con gestion of the kid neys followed. Be sides the terrific ach ing there were whirl ing headaches, and I became exceedingly weak. My doctor could not help me, and I turned to Doan's Kidney Pills, with the result that the kidney con gestion disappeared, and, with if all the other symptoms. What Is more, the cure has lasted for eight years.” Sold by all dealers. 50 cents a box. Foster-Milburn Co., Buffalo, N. Y. Eagles and Their Pray. From Youth s Companion. Ornithologists are inclined to discour se the idea that eagles are In the habit of attacking large animals, but a con test witnessed by an observer and re corded In the Scotsman dispels such a theory. The battle was between an sagle and a stag. The bird singled out from a herd one particular buck, which It succeeded In driving from the rest, it struck the animal with Its powerful wings, knocked It down and finally killed It. A still more remarkable spectacle Is well authenticated. An eagle attacked a fawn In the highlands. The cries of the little one were answered by its dam, which sprang upon the eagle and struck it repeatedly with its forefeet. Fawn, deer and eagle rolled down a declivity, the bird was dislodged from Its hold and the fawns rescued. Many traditions are extant as to the carrying olt of children by eagles. The most recent case bearing close scrutiny is one which happened In South Africa. A Boer farmer whose stock had been harried by eagles lay in ambush for the robbers and saw one of them de scend and carry off the five-year-old child of one of his Kaffir servants. He shot the bird, which, with the ehil