“Well,” said Lestrade, “I’ve seen you handle a good many cases, Mr. Holmes, but I don’t know that I ever knew a more workmanlike one than that.  We’re not jealous of you at Scotland Yard.  No, sir, we are very proud of you, and if you come down to-morrow, there’s not a man, from the oldest inspector to the youngest constable, who wouldn’t be glad to shake you by the hand.”

“Thank you!” said Holmes.  “Thank you!” and as he turned away, it seemed to me that he was more nearly moved by the softer human emotions than I had ever seen him.  A moment later he was the cold and practical thinker once more.  “Put the pearl in the safe, Watson,” said he, “and get out the papers of the Conk-Singleton forgery case.  Good-bye, Lestrade.  If any little problem comes your way, I shall be happy, if I can, to give you a hint or two as to its solution.”

THE ADVENTURE OF THE THREE STUDENTS

It was in the year ’95 that a combination of events, into which I need not enter, caused Mr. Sherlock Holmes and myself to spend some weeks in one of our great university towns, and it was during this time that the small but instructive adventure which I am about to relate befell us.  It will be obvious that any details which would help the reader exactly to identify the college or the criminal would be injudicious and offensive.  So painful a scandal may well be allowed to die out.  With due discretion the incident itself may, however, be described, since it serves to illustrate some of those qualities for which my friend was remarkable.  I will endeavour, in my statement, to avoid such terms as would serve to limit the events to any particular place, or give a clue as to the people concerned.

We were residing at the time in furnished lodgings close to a library where Sherlock Holmes was pursuing some laborious researches in early English charters—­researches which led to results so striking that they may be the subject of one of my future narratives.  Here it was that one evening we received a visit from an acquaintance, Mr. Hilton Soames, tutor and lecturer at the College of St. Luke’s.  Mr. Soames was a tall, spare man, of a nervous and excitable temperament.  I had always known him to be restless in his manner, but on this particular occasion he was in such a state of uncontrollable agitation that it was clear something very unusual had occurred.

“I trust, Mr. Holmes, that you can spare me a few hours of your valuable time.  We have had a very painful incident at St. Luke’s, and really, but for the happy chance of your being in town, I should have been at a loss what to do.”

“I am very busy just now, and I desire no distractions,” my friend answered.  “I should much prefer that you called in the aid of the police.”

“No, no, my dear sir; such a course is utterly impossible.  When once the law is evoked it cannot be stayed again, and this is just one of those cases where, for the credit of the college, it is most essential to avoid scandal.  Your discretion is as well known as your powers, and you are the one man in the world who can help me.  I beg you, Mr. Holmes, to do what you can.”