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Suddenly,
while gently stroking the subject
under
discussion, Holmes' lips pursed and he emitted a shrill whistle. The
dog lay undisturbed
on his lap.

"Good
heavens, Holmes," I stammered. "What
was
that for?"

"Merely
an experiment, old boy." Holmes'
glance
returned to Bennett. "As to Lama's ancestry,
let
me assure you that he is a pure-bred and blue-
blood
indeed. As Watson well knows, following the
incident
at Reichenbach Falls, I placed myself in voluntary exile for several
years, since two most
vindictive enemies
of mine, who were part of Professor Moriarty's gang, were still at
liberty.
During that period I traveled
to Tibet and visited
Lhasa to confer
with the head lama. Sitting in my
lap,
gentlemen, is a Lhasa Apso, also known as a
Tibetan
terrier. They are bred in that country as
watchdogs.
I suggested that the breed might be
introduced
to England, but others, more knowledgeable
on the subject, felt that our lowlands might
not
prove suitable to the strain. Anywhere in
England
is the lowlands to Lama here, since his
native
habitat is at sixteen thousand feet above sea
level.
However, our comparatively heavy atmo
sphere
doesn't seem to have bothered this little chap, so perhaps my
original thought was not
without merit."

"This
is all very interesting, Holmes," I persisted,
"but
you still haven't answered my question."

"The
Lhasa Apso is peculiar in that it is the only
dog,
to my knowledge, that frequently has blue
eyes.
Oh, occasionally a Dalmatian may have one
blue
eye, but not two. Consider for a moment, both
of
you, how many blue-eyed dogs either of you has
seen."

Bennett
and I exchanged a glance and then a
shrug.
"I don't usually make note of the color of a
dog's
eyes," said the constable, "but I daresay you
are
right, Mr. Holmes."

"Both
of Lama's eyes are blue," stated Holmes, as
though
this brought the matter to an end.

"For
the life of me I fail to see what the little
fellow's
eye coloration has to do with this case."
Possibly
my tone was somewhat testy.

"Blue-eyed
dogs are very subject to congenital
defects,
Watson. The most common one is deafness.
Lama
is as deaf as a post."

"But
he barked his head off when we arrived."

"His
sense of smell, dear boy, more acute in a
canine
than his sense of hearing. On the night of the
murder,
I picture Lama peacefully asleep at his
master's
feet in his soundless world. You noted, of
course,
that my shrill whistle of a moment ago did
not
even make him flinch. Trelawney was smoking
one
of his Indian cigars, the odor of which Lama
has
become unwillingly accustomed to through the
passage
of time. But the cigar smell effectively
smothered
the dog's ability to raise a scent. The
acrid
smoke anesthetized Lama's olfactory sense.
Through
no fault of his own, the poor dog was
completely
incapable of performing the task he was
bred
to do. Namely, to be a good watchdog."

"That
does it," snapped Bennett. "I knew young
Charles
couldn't have been the culprit."

"Then
we are back to Horace Ledbetter and
Vincent
Staley, both of whom suffer from congeni
tal
defects themselves. Namely, a blind hatred of
each
other and of Ezariah Trelawney."

"Very
well put, Watson," said Holmes, with
approval.
"However, the hatred had existed for
decades.
What fanned the spark into flame at this
particular
time?"

"I
can give you one theory, Mr. Holmes," said the
constable.
"In a village like Shaw, little happens that isn't public
knowledge. Feed and grain is not the business it once was in these
parts. Vincent
Staley owed the bank a
considerable amount. He
had asked for an
extension, which, due to Ezariah Trelawney, was denied. Staley is on
the brink of ruin."

"Excellent,
Bennett!" said the great detective.
"Now
you give us a motive." The sleuth of Baker
Street
was thoughtful for a time. "But we are still in the tender area
of circumstantial evidence. How about Horace Ledbetter, the other
prime suspect?"

"Just
prior to the inquest, I rode out to his farm.
His
niece, Agnes Bisbee, said that the day of the
murder
she had had a conversation with Ledbetter
which
had thrown him into a rage and that he had ridden off to Marley. The
Ledbetter property is midway between Shaw and Marley. I haven't had
the chance to catch up with him since
that time."

The
constable concluded his statement with a hesitant air. Holmes
regarded him searchingly, as
though
reaching within the recesses of his brain. "There is something
else, obviously," commented
the
detective.

Bennett
nodded. "It didn't come out at the
inquest
since it seemed to have no bearing at the time, but young Charles and
Agnes Bisbee have
been keeping company.
They've had to be pretty sly
about it
too, considering the circumstances."

"Montague
and Capulet." Holmes' eyes had a
faraway
look. "But, you see, it does explain a great
deal.
Charles Trelawney states that he returned to Shaw at ten forty-five
and the stationmaster says
he was on the
six o'clock train. The young lover was
silent
because Romeo was with Juliet. Agnes Bis
bee
had a discussion with her uncle which threw him into a rage. About
her intention to marry the stepson of his hereditary enemy, no doubt.
The
recent strain in the relations
between Ezariah
Trelawney and his
stepson can also be laid at the
doorstep
of the star-crossed lovers."

Gently
lifting the dog from his lap and placing
him
on the floor, Holmes rose to his feet.
"The
hour is late, but the time spent has been
profitable.
I doubt if Charles Trelawney need ap
pear
before the magistrates or, indeed, the assizes."

"But
there is a strong possibility that Vincent
Staley
might." Bennett's voice was grim. "Let me
walk
you back to the inn, gentlemen. You have
indeed
earned a mite of rest in what is left of the
night."

While
I had enjoyed a lengthy nap on the train
trip
to Shaw, the country air acted like a soporific.
It
was late the following morning when I forced my
eyes
open to find Holmes, fully dressed, standing beside my bed, smiling.
I grabbed at the watch,
formerly the
property of my departed brother of
sad
memory, which was on the bed-stand. One look
provoked
a groan.

"Great
Scott, Holmes, you have allowed me to
sleep
away the morning!"

"No
matter, dear fellow. My expedition proved a
simple
one and required no assistance."

"Expedition,
indeed," I said, climbing from the
bed
and dressing as rapidly as possible. "Where to,
may
I ask?"

"Marley,
of course," replied Holmes. "You will
recall
that on the day of the murder, Agnes Bisbee
said
her uncle had ridden off to Marley in a rage. But Bennett stated that
Ledbetter's farm was equi
distant
between Marley and Shaw. It occurred to
me
that Ledbetter might well have said he was
riding
to Marley but actually have directed his
horse
here."

"Placing
him at the scene of the crime. And what,
pray
tell, did you learn in this adjacent hamlet?"

"Much
more than I anticipated. Obviously, Agnes
had
informed her uncle of her love for Charles Trelawney. The news was
such a shock to the old
fellow that he
rode into Marley like Rob Roy on the
run.
Leaving a foam-flecked horse, he promptly
made
for the only public house available and spent what was left of the
early evening disposing of a
complete
bottle of very old Irish whiskey. This induced a certain truculence
in his general attitude and the local constable was summoned. This
pro
tector of the peace, Farquhar by
name, placed
Horace Ledbetter with some
difficulty in what our
American cousins
call the local pokey. Ledbetter
spent
the entire night in a cell in the Marley jail."

"Good
heavens!" I exclaimed, adjusting my
waistcoat.
"This gives Ledbetter an alibi."

"The
very best I can think of, since it is supplied
by
the authorities themselves."

As
Holmes helped me into my coat, there was a
loud
knocking on the door.
"Do come in,"
said Holmes, and the door opened
revealing
an agitated Constable Bennett.

"Forgive
me, gentlemen," said Bennett, entering
rapidly.
"Things have taken a sudden turn."

"So
Holmes has just told me."

The
constable shot an inquisitive glance at my friend. "They said
downstairs you had hired a four-wheeler early this morning. I was
looking
around town for you before
coming here. Have you
chanced upon
something?"

"'Twill
wait," said Holmes with an airy gesture
of
one hand. "What have you learned, Bennett?"

"As
you know, I have been staying at the Trelawney
house to protect the evidence. This morning, I dropped by my digs and
found an envelope under
my door."
Bennett extracted a piece of cheap paper
from
his pocket. "Let me read you the contents: 'Young Charles did
not arrive at Trelawney's till
just
before eleven. Why don't you follow the finger
of
guilt, which points directly at Horace Ledbetter?'
"

"It's
signed: 'One who knows,'" concluded Ben
nett.

"
Your
anonymous correspondent might just as
well
have affixed his name," said Holmes.

"My
thought exactly, Mr. Holmes. Vincent Staley
trying
to implicate his enemy. I came here at once,
but
they said that you had already departed.
Therefore,
I went to Staley's home. There was no response to my knock, but I
noticed the door ajar.
Something
prompted me to look inside and it's a
good
thing I did, gentlemen. I found Vincent Staley
in
his bedroom with his head bashed in."

"Good
heavens!" This news set me back for fair.

"Hmmm!"
added Holmes. "A turn of events I
certainly
did not foresee."

Bennett
looked harassed. "I haven't made the
fact
known as yet."