the list of addresses we may be able to pick our man, and follow two tracks instead of one.”
Surely enough, a note awaited us at Baker Street. A Government messenger had brought it post-haste. Holmes glanced at it and threw it over to me.
“There are numerous small fry, but few who would handle so big an affair. The only men worth considering are Adolph Meyer, of 13, Great George Street, Westminster: Louis La Rothiere, of Campden Mansions, Notting Hill; and Hugo Oberstein, 13, Caulfield Gardens, Kensington. The latter was known to be in town on Monday, and is now reported as having left. Glad to hear you have seen some light. The Cabinet awaits your final report with the utmost anxiety. Urgent representations have arrived from the very highest quarter. The whole force of the State is at your back if you should need it—MYCROFT.”
“I’m afraid,” said Holmes, smiling, “that all the Queen’s horses and all the Queen’s men cannot avail in this matter.” He had spread out his big map of London, and leaned eagerly over it. “Well, well,” said he presently, with an exclamation of satisfaction, “things are turning a little in our direction at last. Why, Watson, I do honestly believe that we are going to pull it off
