'Go on!' yelled the voice. 'So help me gracious, I have a wiper in this bag, an I'll drop it on your 'ead if you don't hook it!'
'But I want a dog,' I cried.
'I won't be argued with!' shouted Mr. Sherman. 'Now stand clear; for when I say "three," down goes the wiper.'
'Mr. Sherlock Holmes——' I began; but the words had a most magical effect, for the window instantly slammed down, and within a minute the door was unbarred and open. Mr. Sherman was a lanky, lean old man, with stooping shoulders, a stringy neck, and blue-tinted glasses.
'A friend of Mr. Sherlock is always welcome,' said he. 'Step in, sir. Keep clear of the badger, for he bites. Ah, naughty, naughty! would you take a nip at the gentleman?' This to a stoat which thrust its wicked head and red eyes between the bars
