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"I guess he had not heard us coming. He let out a yell, and away he went as hard as he could lick."
"What is the name of that inn you spoke of?"
"The Green Dragon."
"Is there good fishing in that part of Berkshire?"
The honest trainer showed very clearly upon his face that he was convinced that yet another lunatic had come into his harassed life.
"Well, sir, I've heard there are trout in the mill stream and pike in the Hall lake."
"That's good enough. Watson and I are famous fishermen—are we not, Watson? You may address us in the future at the Green Dragon. We should reach it to-night. I need not say that we don't want to see you, Mr. Mason, but a note will reach us, and no doubt I could find you if I want you. When we have gone a little farther into the matter I will let you have a considered opinion."
THUS it was that on a bright May evening Holmes and I found ourselves alone in a first-class carriage, and bound for the little "halt-on-demand" station of Shoscombe. The rack above us was covered with a formidable litter of rods, reels, and baskets. On reaching our destination a short drive took us to an old-fashioned tavern, where a sporting host, Josiah Barnes, entered eagerly into our plans for the extirpation of the fish of the neighbourhood.
"What about the Hall lake and the chance of a pike?" said Holmes.
