“I have no time for trifles,” he answered, brusquely; then with a smile, “Excuse

my rudeness. You broke the thread of my thoughts; but perhaps it is as well. So

you actually were not able to see that that man was a sergeant of Marines?”

 

“No, indeed.”

 

“It was easier to know it than to explain why I knew it. If you were asked to

prove that two and two made four, you might find some difficulty, and yet you

are quite sure of the fact. Even across the street I could see a great blue

anchor tattooed on the back of the fellow’s hand. That smacked of the sea. He

had a military carriage, however, and regulation side whiskers. There we have

the marine. He was a man with some amount of self-importance and a certain air

of command.

 

You must have observed the way in which he held his head and swung his cane. A

steady, respectable, middle-aged man, too, on the face of him—all facts which

led me to believe that he had been a sergeant.”

 

“Wonderful!” I ejaculated.

 

“Commonplace,” said Holmes, though I thought from his expression that he was

pleased at my evident surprise and admiration. “I said just now that there were

no criminals. It appears that I am wrong—look at this!” He threw me over the

note which the commissionaire had brought.