"
The old man made a little run towards the door, but, as Athelney
Jones put his broad back up against it, he recognized the
uselessness of resistance.
"Pretty sort o' treatment this!" he cried, stamping his stick.
"I come here to see a gentleman, and you two, who I never saw in
my life, seize me and treat me in this fashion!"
"You will be none the worse," I said. "We shall recompense you
for the loss of your time. Sit over here on the sofa, and you
will not have long to wait."
He came across sullenly enough, and seated himself with his face
resting on his hands. Jones and I resumed our cigars and our
talk. Suddenly, however, Holmes's voice broke in upon us.
"I think that you might offer me a cigar too," he said.
We both started in our chairs. There was Holmes sitting close to
us with an air of quiet amusement.
"Holmes!" I exclaimed. "You here! But where is the old man?"
"Here is the old man," said he, holding out a heap of white hair.
"Here he is,--wig, whiskers, eyebrows, and all. I thought my
disguise was pretty good, but I hardly expected that it would
stand that test."
"Ah, You rogue!" cried Jones, highly delighted. "You would have
made an actor, and a rare one.
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