“What about him? Is he reliable?”
“Ten years with Sir Charles Chandos—as solid as a rock. He has been with Douglas ever since he took the Manor House five years ago. He has never seen a gun of this sort in the house.”
“The gun was made to conceal. That’s why the barrels were sawed. It would fit into any box. How could he swear there was no such gun in the house?”
“Well, anyhow, he had never seen one.”
MacDonald shook his obstinate Scotch head. “I’m not convinced yet that there was ever anyone in the house,” said he. “I’m asking you to conseedar” (his accent became more Aberdonian as he lost himself in his argument) “I’m asking you to conseedar what it involves if you suppose that this gun was ever brought into the house, and that all these strange things were done by a person from outside. Oh, Man, it’s just inconceivable! It’s clean against commonsense! I put it to you, Mr. Holmes, judging it by what we have heard.”
“Well, state your case, Mr. Mac,” said Holmes in his most judicial style.
