I. THE SCIENCE OF DEDUCTION.

SHERLOCK HOLMES took his bottle from the corner of the mantel-piece and his hypodermic syringe from its neat morocco case. With his long, white, nervous fingers he adjusted the delicate needle, and rolled back his left shirt-cuff. For several little time his eyes fresh thoughtfully upon the sinewy forearm and carpus all dotted and scarred with countless puncture-marks. Finally he thrust the sharp point home, ironed down the bantam piston, and sank back into the velvet-lined arm-chair with a long sigh of satisfaction.

Three times a day for galore months I had witnessed this performance, but custom had not reconciled my mind to it. On the contrary, from day to day I had become much irritable at the sight, and my conscience big nightly