A Study in Terror by Ellery Queen Page A

put it into the general fund of the hostel.”
    â€œThen he is still capable of emotion. At least of gratitude.”
    â€œIndeed he is,” replied Sally Young, warmly. “And now perhaps, sir, you will answer a question of mine. Why are you interested in the surgeon’s-kit?”
    â€œIt was sent to me by an unknown person.”
    Her eyes widened. “Then someone redeemed it!”
    â€œYes. Have you any idea who that person might have been?”
    â€œNot in the least.” After a thoughtful pause, she said, “There does not necessarily have to be a connection. I mean, someone could have come upon the case and redeemed it as a bargain.”
    â€œOne of the instruments was missing when it reached me.”
    â€œThat is odd! I wonder what could have happened to it.”
    â€œThe set was complete when you pledged it?”
    â€œIndeed it was.”
    â€œThank you, Miss Young.”
    At that moment the door before us opened; a man came through. And, although Lord Carfax was perhaps not the last person I expected to see, he was certainly not the first.
    â€œYour Lordship,” exclaimed Holmes. “Our paths cross again.”
    Lord Carfax was as surprised as I. Indeed, he seemed utterly discomposed. It was Sally Young who broke the silence. “Your Lordship has met these gentlemen?”
    â€œWe had that privilege only yesterday,” said Holmes. “At the Duke of Shires’s residence.”
    Lord Carfax found his voice. “Mr. Holmes refers to my father’s country-home.” Then, turning back to Holmes, he said, “This is a far more likely place for me to be than for you gentlemen. I spend a good deal of my time here.”
    â€œLord Carfax is our angel from Heaven,” said Sally Young rapturously. “He has given of his money and of his time so generously, that the hostel is as much his as ours. It could hardly exist without him.”
    Lord Carfax flushed. “You make too much of it, my dear.”
    She laid an affectionate hand upon his arm; her eyes were very bright. Then the glow faded; her whole manner changed. “Lord Carfax. There is another one. Have you heard?”
    He nodded, sombrely. “I wonder if it will ever end! Mr. Holmes, are you by any chance applying your talents to the hunt for the Ripper?”
    â€œWe shall see what develops,” said Holmes, abruptly. “We have taken up enough of your time, Miss Young. I trust that we shall meet again.”
    With that we bowed and departed, going out through the silent morgue, that was now deserted except for the dead.
    Night had fallen, and the street-lamps of White-chapel dotted the lonely thoroughfares, deepening rather than banishing the shadows.
    I drew up my collar. “I don’t mind saying, Holmes, that a good fire and a cup of hot tea—”
    â€œOn guard, Watson!” cried Holmes, his reactions far sharper than my own; and an instant later we were fighting for our lives. Three toughs had leapt out of the darkness of a courtyard and were upon us.
    I saw the flash of a knife-blade as one of them shouted, “You two take the big cove!” Thus I was left with the third thug, but he was quite enough, armed as he was with a glittering weapon. The savagery of his attack left no doubt as to his intentions. I whirled to meet his attack not an instant too soon. But my stick slipped from my grasp, and I would have gone down with the brute’s blade in my flesh if he had not slipped in his eagerness to get at me. He fell forward, pawing the air, and I acted from instinct, bringing my knee upwards. A welcome bolt of pain shot up my thigh as my knee-cap connected with my assailant’s face. He bellowed in pain and staggered back, blood spouting from his nose.
    Holmes had retained his stick and his wits. From the corner of my eye I witnessed his first defensive move. Using the stick as a sword, he thrust straight and true at the nearest man’s