clear；　and；　as　the　collector　never　went　out；　it　took　some　planning
  to　do　it。　The　whole　of　this　Garrideb　invention　was　apparently　for　no
  other　end。　I　must　say；　Watson；　that　there　is　a　certain　devilish
  ingenuity　about　it；　even　if　the　queer　name　of　the　tenant　did　give
  him　an　opening　which　he　could　hardly　have　expected。　He　wove　his　plot
  with　remarkable　cunning。〃
  〃But　what　did　he　want？〃
  〃Well；　that　is　what　we　are　here　to　find　out。　It　has　nothing　whatever
  to　do　with　our　client；　so　far　as　I　can　read　the　situation。　It　is
  something　connected　with　the　man　he　murdered…　the　man　who　may　have
  been　his　confederate　in　crime。　There　is　some　guilty　secret　in　the
  room。　That　is　how　I　read　it。　At　first　I　thought　our　friend　might
  have　something　in　his　collection　more　valuable　than　he　knew…　something
  worth　the　attention　of　a　big　criminal。　But　the　fact　that　Rodger
  Prescott　of　evil　memory　inhabited　these　rooms　points　to　some　deeper
  reason。　Well；　Watson；　we　can　but　possess　our　souls　in　patience　and　see
  what　the　hour　may　bring。〃
  That　hour　was　not　long　in　striking。　We　crouched　closer　in　the　shadow
  as　we　heard　the　outer　door　open　and　shut。　Then　came　the　sharp；
  metallic　snap　of　a　key；　and　the　American　was　in　the　room。　He　closed
  the　door　softly　behind　him；　took　a　sharp　glance　around　him　to　see　that
  all　was　safe；　threw　off　his　overcoat；　and　walked　up　to　the　central
  table　with　the　brisk　manner　of　one　who　knows　exactly　what　he　has　to　do
  and　how　to　do　it。　He　pushed　the　table　to　one　side；　tore　up　the
  square　of　carpet　on　which　it　rested；　rolled　it　completely　back；　and
  then；　drawing　a　jemmy　from　his　inside　pocket；　he　knelt　down　and　worked
  vigorously　upon　the　floor。　Presently　we　heard　the　sound　of　sliding
  boards；　and　an　instant　later　a　square　had　opened　in　the　planks。　Killer
  Evans　struck　a　match；　lit　a　stump　of　candle；　and　vanished　from　our
  view。
  Clearly　our　moment　had　come。　Holmes　touched　my　wrist　as　a　signal；
  and　together　we　stole　across　to　the　open　trap…door。　Gently　as　we
  moved；　however；　the　old　floor　must　have　creaked　under　our　feet；　for
  the　head　of　our　American；　peering　anxiously　round；　emerged　suddenly
  from　the　open　space。　His　face　turned　upon　us　with　a　glare　of　baffled
  rage；　which　gradually　softened　into　a　rather　shamefaced　grin　as　he
  realized　that　two　pistols　were　pointed　at　his　head。
  〃Well；　well！〃　said　he　coolly　as　he　scrambled　to　the　surface。　〃I
  guess　you　have　been　one　too　many　for　me；　Mr。　Holmes。　Saw　through　my
  game；　I　suppose；　and　played　me　for　a　sucker　from　the　first。　Well；　sir；
  I　hand　it　to　you；　you　have　me　beat　and…〃
  In　an　instant　he　had　whisked　out　a　revolver　from　his　breast　and
  had　fired　two　shots。　I　felt　a　sudden　hot　sear　as　if　a　red…hot　iron　had
  been　pressed　to　my　thigh。　There　was　a　crash　as　Holmes's　pistol　came
  down　on　the　man's　head。　I　had　a　vision　of　him　sprawling　upon　the　floor
  with　blood　running　down　his　face　while　Holmes　rummaged　him　for
  weapons。　Then　my　friend's　wiry　arms　were　round　me；　and　he　was
  leading　me　to　a　chair。
  〃You're　not　hurt；　Watson？　For　God's　sake；　say　that　you　are　not
  hurt！〃
  It　was　worth　a　wound…　it　was　worth　many　wounds…　to　know　the　depth　of
  loyalty　and　love　which　lay　behind　that　cold　mask。　The　clear；　hard　eyes
  were　dimmed　for　a　moment；　and　the　firm　lips　were　shaking。　For　the
  one　and　only　time　I　caught　a　glimpse　of　a　great　heart　as　well　as　of
  a　great　brain。　All　my　years　of　humble　but　single…minded　service
  culminated　in　that　moment　of　revelation。
  〃It's　nothing；　Holmes。　It's　a　mere　scratch。〃
  He　had　ripped　up　my　trousers　with　his　pocket…knife。
  〃You　are　right；〃　fie　c：ried　with　an　immense　sigh　of　relief。　〃It　is
  quite　superficial。〃　His　face　set　like　flint　as　he　glared　at　our
  prisoner；　who　was　sitting　up　with　a　dazed　face。　〃By　the　Lord；　it　is　as
  well　for　you。　If　you　had　killed　Watson；　you　would　not　have　got　out
  of　this　room　alive。　Now；　sir；　what　have　you　to　say　for　yourself？〃
  He　had　nothing　to　say　for　himself。　He　only　sat　and　scowled。　I　leaned
  on　Holmes's　arm；　and　together　we　looked　down　into　the　small　cellar
  which　had　been　disclosed　by　the　secret　flap。　it　was　still
  illuminated　by　the　candle　which　Evans　had　taken　down　with　him。　Our
  eyes　fell　upon　a　mass　of　rusted　machinery；　great　rolls　of　paper；　a
  litter　of　bottles；　and；　neatly　arranged　upon　a　small　table；　a　number
  of　neat　little　bundies。
  〃A　printing　press…　a　counterfeiter's　outfit；〃　said　Holmes。
  〃Yes；　sir；〃　said　our　prisoner；　staggering　slowly　to　his　feet　and
  then　sinking　into　the　chair。　〃The　greatest　counterfeiter　London　ever
  saw。　That's　Prescott's　machine；　and　those　bundles　on　the　table　are　two
  thousand　of　Prescott's　notes　worth　a　hundred　each　and　fit　to　pass
  anywhere。　Help　yourselves；　gentlemen。　Call　it　a　deal　and　let　me　beat
  it。〃
  Holmes　laughed。
  〃We　don't　do　things　like　that；　Mr。　Evans。　There　is　no　bolt…hole
  for　you　in　this　country。　You　shot　this　man　Prescott；　did　you　not？〃
  〃Yes；　sir；　and　got　five　years　for　it；　though　it　was　he　who　pulled　on
  me。　Five　years…　when　I　should　have　had　a　medal　the　size　of　a　soup
  plate。　No　living　man　could　tell　a　Prescott　from　a　Bank　of　England；　and
  if　I　hadn't　put　him　out　he　would　have　flooded　London　with　them。　I
  was　the　only　one　in　the　world　who　knew　where　he　made　them。　Can　you
  wonder　that　I　wanted　to　get　to　the　place？　And　can　you　wonder　that　when
  I　found　this　crazy　boob　of　a　bug…hunter　with　the　queer　name
  squatting　right　on　the　top　of　it；　and　never　quitting　his　room；　I　had
  to　do　the　best　I　could　to　shift　him？　Maybe　I　would　have　been　wiser
  if　I　had　put　him　away。　It　would　have　been　easy　enough；　but　I'm　a
  soft…hearted　guy　that　can't　begin　shooting　unless　the　other　man　has
  a　gun　also。　But　say；　Mr。　Holmes；　what　have　I　done　wrong；　anyhow？
  I've　not　used　this　plant。　I've　not　hurt　this　old　stiff。　Where　do　you
  get　me？〃
  〃Only　attempted　murder；　so　far　as　I　can　see；〃　said　Holmes。　〃But
  that's　not　our　job。　They　take　that　at　the　next　stage。　What　we　wanted
  at　present　was　just　your　sweet　self。　Please　give　the　Yard　a　call；
  Watson。　It　won't　be　entirely　unexpected。〃
  So　those　were　the　facts　about　Killer　Evans　and　his　remarkable
  invention　of　the　three　Garridebs。　We　heard　later　that　our　poor　old
  friend　never　got　over　the　shock　of　his　dissipated　dreams。　When　his
  castle　in　the　air　fell　down；　it　buried　him　beneath　the　ruins。　He　was
  last　heard　of　at　a　nursing…home　in　Brixton。　It　was　a　glad　day　at　the
  Yard　when　the　Prescott　outfit　was　discovered；　for；　though　they　knew
  that　it　existed；　they　had　never　been　able；　after　the　death　of　the　man；
  to　find　out　where　it　was。　Evans　had　indeed　done　great　service　and
  caused　several　worthy　C。I。D。　men　to　sleep　the　sounder；　for　the
  counterfeiter　stands　in　a　class　by　himself　as　a　public　danger。　They
  would　willingly　have　subscribed　to　that　soup…plate　medal　of　which
  the　criminal　had　spoken；　but　an　unappreciative　bench　took　a　less
  favourable　view；　ind　the　Killer　returned　to　those　shades　from　which　he
  had　just　emerged。
  THE　END
  。