R. HOLMES & CO.

Contents
I. INTRODUCING MR. RAFFLES HOLMES
II. THE ADVENTURE OF THE DORRINGTON RUBY SEAL
III. THE ADVENTURE OF MRS. BURLINGAME'S DIAMOND STOMACHER
IV. THE ADVENTURE OF THE MISSING PENDANTS
V. THE ADVENTURE OF THE BRASS CHECK
VI. THE ADVENTURE OF THE HIRED BURGLAR
VII. THE REDEMPTION OF YOUNG BILLINGTON RAND
VIII. "THE NOSTALGIA OF NERVY JIM THE SNATCHER"
IX. THE ADVENTURE OF ROOM 407
X. THE MAJOR-GENERAL'S PEPPERPOTS



R. HOLMES & CO.



I
INTRODUCING MR. RAFFLES HOLMES

It was a blistering night in August. All day long the mercury in the
thermometer had been flirting with the figures at the top of the tube, and
the promised shower at night which a mendacious Weather Bureau had been
prophesying as a slight mitigation of our sufferings was conspicuous wholly
by its absence. I had but one comfort in the sweltering hours of the day,
afternoon and evening, and that was that my family were away in the
mountains, and there was no law against my sitting around all day clad only
in my pajamas, and otherwise concealed from possibly intruding eyes by the
wreaths of smoke that I extracted from the nineteen or twenty cigars which,
when there is no protesting eye to suggest otherwise, form my daily
allowance. I had tried every method known to the resourceful flat-dweller
of modern times to get cool and to stay so, but alas, it was impossible.
Even the radiators, which all winter long had never once given forth a
spark of heat, now hissed to the touch of my moistened finger. Enough
cooling drinks to float an ocean greyhound had passed into my inner man,
with no other result than to make me perspire more profusely than ever,
and in so far as sensations went, to make me feel hotter than before.
Finally, as a last resource, along about midnight, its gridiron floor
having had a chance to lose some of its stored-up warmth, I climbed out
upon the fire-escape at the rear of the Richmere, hitched my hammock from
one of the railings thereof to the leader running from the roof to the
area, and swung myself therein some eighty feet above the concealed
pavement of our backyard--so called, perhaps, because of its dimensions
which were just about that square. It was a little improvement, though
nothing to brag of. What fitful zephyrs there might be, caused no doubt by
the rapid passage to and fro on the roof above and fence-tops below of
vagrant felines on Cupid's contentious battles bent, to the disturbance of
the still air, soughed softly through the meshes of my hammock and gave
some measure of relief, grateful enough for which I ceased the perfervid
language I had been using practically since sunrise, and dozed off. And
then there entered upon the scene that marvelous man, Raffles Holmes, of
whose exploits it is the purpose of these papers to tell.

I had dozed perhaps for a full hour when the first strange sounds grated
upon my ear. Somebody had opened a window in the kitchen of the first-floor
apartment below, and with a dark lantern was inspecting the iron platform
of the fire-escape without. A moment later this somebody crawled out of the
window, and with movements that in themselves were a sufficient indication
of the questionable character of his proceedings, made for the ladder
leading to the floor above, upon which many a time and oft had I too
climbed to home and safety when an inconsiderate janitor had locked me out.
Every step that he took was stealthy--that much I could see by the dim
starlight. His lantern he had turned dark again, evidently lest he should
attract attention in the apartments below as he passed their windows in his
upward flight.

"Ha! ha!" thought I to myself. "It's never too hot for Mr. Sneak to get in
his fine work. I wonder whose stuff he is after?"