"It was easy to follow him," he said, drawing on his stockings and boots. "Tiles were loosened the whole way along, and in his hurry he had dropped this. It confirms my diagnosis, as you doctors express it."

The object which he held up to me was a small pocket or pouch woven out of colored grasses and with a few tawdry beads strung round it. In shape and size it was not unlike a cigarette-case. Inside were half a dozen spines of dark wood, sharp at one end and rounded at the other, like that which had struck Bartholomew Sholto.

"They are hellish things," said he. "Look out that you don't prick yourself. I'm delighted to have them, for the chances are that they are all he has. There is the less fear of you or me finding one in our skin before long. I would sooner face a Martini bullet, myself. Are you game for a six-mile trudge, Watson?"

"Certainly," I answered.
"Your leg will stand it?"
"Oh, yes."
"Here you are, doggy! Good old Toby! Smell it, Toby, smell it!" He pushed the creasote handkerchief under the dog's nose, while the creature stood with its fluffy legs separated, and with a most comical cock to its head, like a connoisseur sniffing the bouquet of a famous vintage. Holmes then threw the handkerchief to a distance, fastened a stout cord to the mongrel's collar, and led him to the foot of the water-barrel. The creature instantly broke into a succession of high, tremulous yelps, and, with his nose on the ground, and his tail in the air, pattered off upon the trail at a pace which strained his leash and kept us at the top of our speed.

The east had been gradually whitening, and we could now see some distance in the cold gray light. The square, massive house, with its black, empty windows and high, bare walls, towered up, sad and forlorn, behind us. Our course led right across the grounds, in and out among the trenches and pits with which they were scarred and intersected. The whole place, with its scattered dirt-heaps and ill-grown shrubs, had a blighted, ill-omened look which harmonized with the black tragedy which hung over it.

On reaching the boundary wall Toby ran along, whining eagerly, underneath its shadow, and stopped finally in a corner screened by a young beech. Where the two walls ed, several bricks had been loosened, and the crevices left were worn down and rounded upon the lower side, as though they had frequently been used as a ladder. Holmes clambered up, and, taking the dog from me, he dropped it over upon the other side.

"There's the print of wooden-leg's hand," he remarked, as I mounted up beside him. "You see the slight smudge of blood upon the white plaster. What a lucky thing it is that we have had no very heavy rain since yesterday! The scent will lie upon the road in spite of their eight-and-twenty hours' start."
I confess that I had my doubts myself when I reflected upon the great traffic which had ed along the London road in the interval. My fears were soon appeased, however. Toby never hesitated or swerved, but waddled on in his peculiar rolling fashion. Clearly, the pungent smell of the creasote rose high above all other contending scents.
"Do not imagine," said Holmes, "that I depend for my success in this case upon the mere chance of one of these fellows having put his foot in the chemical. I have knowledge now which would enable me to trace them in many different ways. This, however, is the readiest and, since fortune has put it into our hands, I should be culpable if I neglected it. It has, however, prevented the case from becoming the pretty little intellectual problem which it at one time promised to be. There might have been some credit to be gained out of it, but for this too palpable clue."
"There is credit, and to spare," said I. "I assure you, Holmes, that I marvel at the means by which you obtain your results in this case, even more than I did in the Jefferson Hope Murder. The thing seems to me to be deeper and more inexplicable. How, for example, could you describe with such confidence the wooden-legged man?"
"Pshaw, my dear boy! it was simplicity itself. I don't wish to be theatrical. It is all patent and above-board. Two officers who are in command of a convict-guard learn an important secret as to buried treasure. A map is drawn for them by an Englishman named Jonathan Small. You that we saw the name upon the chart in Captain Morstan's possession. He had signed it in behalf of himself and his associates,—the sign of the four, as he somewhat dramatically called it. Aided by this chart, the officers—or one of them—gets the treasure and brings it to England, leaving, we will suppose, some condition under which he received it unfulfilled. Now, then, why did not Jonathan Small get the treasure himself? The answer is obvious. The chart is dated at a time when Morstan was brought into close association with convicts. Jonathan Small did not get the treasure because he and his associates were themselves convicts and could not get away."

"But that is mere speculation," said I.
"It is more than that. It is the only hypothesis which covers the facts. Let us see how it fits in with the sequel. Major Sholto remains at peace for some years, happy in the possession of his treasure. Then he receives a letter from India which gives him a great fright. What was that?"
"A letter to say that the men whom he had wronged had been set free."
"Or had escaped. That is much more likely, for he would have known what their term of imprisonment was. It would not have been a surprise to him. What does he do then? He guards himself against a wooden-legged man,—a white man, mark you, for he mistakes a white tradesman for him, and actually fires a pistol at him. Now, only one white man's name is on the chart. The others are Hindoos or Mohammedans. There is no other white man. Therefore we may say with confidence that the wooden-legged man is identical with Jonathan Small. Does the reasoning strike you as being faulty?"

"No: it is clear and concise."

"Well, now, let us put ourselves in the place of Jonathan Small. Let us look at it from his point of view. He comes to England with the double idea of regaining what he would consider to be his rights and of having his revenge upon the man who had wronged him. He found out where Sholto lived, and very possibly he established communications with some one inside the house. There is this butler, Lal Rao, whom we have not seen. Mrs. Bernstone gives him far from a good character. Small could not find out, however, where the treasure was hid, for no one ever knew, save the major and one faithful servant who had died. Suddenly Small learns that the major is on his death-bed. In a frenzy lest the secret of the treasure die with him, he runs the gauntlet of the guards, makes his way to the dying man's window, and is only deterred from entering by the presence of his two sons. Mad with hate, however, against the dead man, he enters the room that night, searches his private papers in the hope of discovering some memorandum relating to the treasure, and finally leaves a momento of his visit in the short inscription upon the card. He had doubtless planned beforehand that should he slay the major he would leave some such record upon the body as a sign that it was not a common murder, but, from the point of view of the four associates, something in the nature of an act of justice. Whimsical and bizarre conceits of this kind are common enough in the annals of crime, and usually afford valuable indications as to the criminal. Do you follow all this?"

"Very clearly."
"Now, what could Jonathan Small do? He could only continue to keep a secret watch upon the efforts made to find the treasure. Possibly he leaves England and only comes back at intervals. Then comes the discovery of the garret, and he is instantly informed of it. We again trace the presence of some confederate in the household. Jonathan, with his wooden leg, is utterly unable to reach the lofty room of Bartholomew Sholto. He takes with him, however, a rather curious associate, who gets over this difficulty, but dips his naked foot into creasote, whence comes Toby, and a six-mile limp for a half-pay officer with a damaged tendo Achillis."

"But it was the associate, and not Jonathan, who committed the crime."
"Quite so. And rather to Jonathan's disgust, to judge by the way he stamped about when he got into the room. He bore no grudge against Bartholomew Sholto, and would have preferred if he could have been simply bound and gagged. He did not wish to put his head in a halter. There was no help for it, however: the savage instincts of his companion had broken out, and the poison had done its work: so Jonathan Small left his record, lowered the treasure-box to the ground, and followed it himself. That was the train of events as far as I can decipher them. Of course as to his personal appearance he must be middle-aged, and must be sunburned after serving his time in such an oven as the Andamans. His height is readily calculated from the length of his stride, and we know that he was bearded. His hairiness was the one point which impressed itself upon Thaddeus Sholto when he saw him at the window. I don't know that there is anything else."

"The associate?"
"Ah, well, there is no great mystery in that. But you will know all about it soon enough. How sweet the morning air is! See how that one little cloud floats like a pink feather from some gigantic flamingo. Now the red rim of the sun pushes itself over the London cloud-bank.

It shines on a good many folk, but on none, I dare bet, who are on a stranger errand than you and I. How small we feel with our petty ambitions and strivings in the presence of the great elemental forces of nature! Are you well up in your Jean Paul?"

"Fairly so. I worked back to him through Carlyle."

"That was like following the brook to the parent lake. He makes one curious but profound remark. It is that the chief proof of man's real greatness lies in his perception of his own smallness. It argues, you see, a power of comparison and of appreciation which is in itself a proof of nobility. There is much food for thought in Richter. You have not a pistol, have you?"

"I have my stick."

"It is just possible that we may need something of the sort if we get to their lair. Jonathan I shall leave to you, but if the other turns nasty I shall shoot him dead." He took out his revolver as he spoke, and, having loaded two of the chambers, he put it back into the right-hand pocket of his jacket.
We had during this time been following the guidance of Toby down the half-rural villa-lined roads which lead to the metropolis. Now, however, we were beginning to come among continuous streets, where laborers and dockmen were already astir, and slatternly women were taking down shutters and brushing door-steps. At the square-topped corner public houses business was just beginning, and rough-looking men were emerging, rubbing their sleeves across their beards after their morning wet. Strange dogs sauntered up and stared wonderingly at us as we ed, but our inimitable Toby looked neither to the right nor to the left, but trotted onwards with his nose to the ground and an occasional eager whine which spoke of a hot scent.

We had traversed Streatham, Brixton, Camberwell, and now found ourselves in Kennington Lane, having borne away through the side-streets to the east of the Oval. The men whom we pursued seemed to have taken a curiously zigzag road, with the idea probably of escaping observation. They had never kept to the main road if a parallel side-street would serve their turn. At the foot of Kennington Lane they had edged away to the left through Bond Street and Miles Street. Where the latter street turns into Knight's Place, Toby ceased to advance, but began to run backwards and forwards with one ear cocked and the other drooping, the very picture of canine indecision. Then he waddled round in circles, looking up to us from time to time, as if to ask for sympathy in his embarrassment.

"What the deuce is the matter with the dog?" growled Holmes. "They surely would not take a cab, or go off in a balloon."
"Perhaps they stood here for some time," I suggested.

"Ah! it's all right. He's off again," said my companion, in a tone of relief.
He was indeed off, for after sniffing round again he suddenly made up his mind, and darted away with an energy and determination such as he had not yet shown. The scent appeared to be much hotter than before, for he had not even to put his nose on the ground, but tugged at his leash and tried to break into a run. I cold see by the gleam in Holmes's eyes that he thought we were nearing the end of our journey.

Our course now ran down Nine Elms until we came to Broderick and Nelson's large timber-yard, just past the White Eagle tavern. Here the dog, frantic with excitement, turned down through the side-gate into the enclosure, where the sawyers were already at work. On the dog raced through sawdust and shavings, down an alley, round a age, between two wood-piles, and finally, with a triumphant yelp, sprang upon a large barrel which still stood upon the hand-trolley on which it had been brought. With lolling tongue and blinking eyes, Toby stood upon the cask, looking from one to the other of us for some sign of appreciation. The staves of the barrel and the wheels of the trolley were smeared with a dark liquid, and the whole air was heavy with the smell of creasote.

El episodio del barril

––Ha sido fcil seguirlo ––dijo, mientras se pona los calcetines y los zapatos––. Haba tejas sueltas marcando todo el camino y con las prisas se le cay esto. Como dicen ustedes los mdicos, esto confirma mi diagnstico.
El objeto que me mostr era una bolsita tejida con hierbas de colores, con algunas cuentas brillantes ensartadas. Por el tamao y la forma, no era muy diferente de una petaca. En su interior haba media docena de espinas de madera oscura, con un extremo afilado y el otro redondo, iguales a la que tena clavada Bartholomew Sholto.
––Unos chismes infernales ––dijo Holmes––. Tenga cuidado de no pincharse. Me alegra mucho haberlas encontrado, porque lo ms probable es que el hombre no tuviera ms que stas, y as hay menos peligro de que cualquier da de stos usted o yo acabemos con una de ellas clavada en la piel. Prefiero con mucho una bala Martini. Se siente en forma para dar un paseto de seis millas, Watson?
––Desde luego ––respond.
––Aguantar su pierna?
––Claro que s.
––Vamos all, perrito! El bueno de Toby! Huele, Toby, huele!
Coloc el pauelo mojado en creosota bajo el hocico del perro, y el animal lo olfate, con las peludas patas muy separadas y la cabeza torcida en un gesto muy cmico, como si fuera un entendido en vinos apreciando el buqu de un famoso reserva. A continuacin, Holmes arroj lejos el pauelo, at una fuerte cuerda al collar del chucho y lo condujo al pie del barril de agua. Al instante, el animal estall en una serie de gaidos agudos y trmulos y, con el hocico pegado al suelo y la cola en alto, se lanz a seguir la pista .a tal velocidad que mantena la cuerda siempre tirante y nos obligaba a caminar lo ms deprisa que podamos.
Empezaba a clarear poco a poco por el Este, y la luz fra y gris nos permita ya ver a cierta distancia. El gran casern cuadrado, con sus ventanas negras y vacas y sus muros altos y desnudos, se alzaba a nuestras espaldas, triste y desolado. Nuestro recorrido nos llev a travs de los terrenos de la casa, entrando y saliendo de las zanjas y agujeros que se abran como cicatrices. Todo aquel lugar, con sus montones de tierra por todas partes y sus raquticos arbustos, tena un aspecto de ruina y malos augurios que casaba a la perfeccin con la siniestra tragedia que se cerna sobre l.
Al llegar a la tapia exterior, Toby corri a lo largo de su sombra dando gemidos de ansiedad, hasta que se detuvo en un rincn ocupado por un haya joven. En el ngulo de las dos paredes alguien haba aflojado varios ladrillos, y las grietas resultantes estaban gastadas y redondeadas por la parte inferior, como si se hubieran utilizado a menudo como escalera. Holmes trep por ellas, hizo que yo le pasara el perro y lo dej caer al otro lado.
––Aqu hay una huella de la mano de Patapalo ––me dijo cuando trep hasta llegar a su lado––. Mire esa manchita de sangre sobre el yeso blanco. Es una suerte que no haya llovido mucho desde ayer. El olor an seguir en la carretera, a pesar de que nos llevan veintiocho horas de ventaja.
Confieso que yo tena mis dudas, pensando en la cantidad de trfico que haba pasado por la carretera de Londres en el tiempo transcurrido. Pero muy pronto se disiparon mis temores. Toby no vacil ni se desvi ni una sola vez, y sigui adelante con su curioso bamboleo al andar. No caba duda de que el penetrante olor de la creosota dominaba con gran diferencia a todos los dems olores que pudieran competir con l.
––No vaya a creer ––dijo Holmes–– que mi xito en este caso depende de una pura casualidad, como es el que uno de esos tipos haya pisado esta sustancia. Dispongo ya de datos que me permitiran seguirles la pista de otras muchas maneras; pero sta es la ms directa y, puesto que hemos tenido esa suerte, sera una vergenza desaprovecharla. Sin embargo, esto impide que el caso se convierta en el interesante problemilla intelectual que al principio prometa ser. Podramos haber ganado algo de prestigio con l, de no ser por esta pista tan palpable.
––Hay prestigio para dar y tomar ––dije yo––. Le aseguro, Holmes, que me dejan maravillado los mtodos con los que obtiene estos resultados, ms aun que en el caso del asesinato de Jefferson Hope. A m, el asunto me parece cada vez ms oscuro e inexplicable. Por ejemplo: cmo ha podido describir con tanta exactitud al hombre de la pata de palo?
––Bah! Pero, hombre, si eso es la sencillez misma. No pretendo ser teatral. Est todo a la vista, encima de la mesa. Dos oficiales que estn al mando de la guardia de un presidio se enteran de un importante secreto referente a un tesoro escondido. Un ingls llamado Jonathan Small les dibuja un plano.
Acurdese de que vimos el nombre en el plano que tena el capitn Morstan. Lo firm en nombre propio y de sus socios: el signo de los cuatro, como l lo llamaba en plan dramtico. Con la ayuda de ese plano, los oficiales se hacen con el tesoro y uno de ellos lo trae a Inglaterra, parece que incumpliendo alguna de las condiciones bajo las cuales lo obtuvieron. Ahora bien: por qu no se apoder del tesoro el propio Jonathan Small? La respuesta es evidente: el plano est fechado en una poca en la que Morstan estaba en estrecha relacin con presos. Jonathan Small no poda hacerse con el tesoro porque l y sus socios estaban presos y no podan salir.
––Pero eso es pura especulacin ––dije yo.
––Es mucho ms que eso. Es la nica hiptesis que abarca todos los hechos. Veamos ahora cmo encaja todo esto con la segunda parte del drama. El mayor Sholto vive en paz durante algunos aos, feliz con su tesoro. Luego recibe una carta de la India que le deja aterrorizado. Qu pudo ser?
––Una carta que deca que los hombres a los que haba estafado haban salido en libertad.
––O que se haban fugado. Esto es mucho ms probable, porque l deba saber cundo terminaban sus condenas y, por lo tanto, eso no le habra sorprendido. Qu es lo que hace entonces? Se pone en guardia contra un hombre con pata de palo..., un hombre blanco, fjese, porque una vez confundi con l a un vendedor ambulante y le dispar un tiro. Ahora bien, en el plano slo aparece un nombre europeo; todos los dems son indios o mahometanos, no hay ningn otro hombre blanco. As pues, podemos afirmar con seguridad que el hombre de la pata de palo es el mismo Jonathan Small. Encuentra algn fallo en este razonamiento?
––No; es claro y conciso.
––Pues bien, ahora vamos a ponernos en el lugar de Jonathan Small. Consideremos el asunto desde su punto de vista. Viene a Inglaterra con la doble idea de recuperar lo que cree que le pertenece y vengarse del hombre que le traicion. Averigua dnde vive Sholto y probablemente se pone en o con alguien de la casa. Est ese mayordomo, Lal Rao, al que an no hemos visto. La seora Bernstone no tiene una opinin nada buena de l. Sin embargo, Small no puede averiguar dnde est escondido el tesoro, porque eso no lo saba nadie ms que el mayor y un criado leal, que ya haba muerto. De pronto, Small se entera de que el mayor est en su lecho de muerte. Frentico ante la idea de que el secreto del tesoro muera con l, sortea a la guardia, consigue llegar hasta la ventana del moribundo y lo nico que le disuade de entrar es la presencia de los dos hijos. A pesar de todo, ciego de odio contra el difunto, entra en la habitacin aquella misma noche, registra sus papeles privados con la esperanza de encontrar alguna informacin sobre el tesoro y, por ltimo, deja un recuerdo de su visita con la frase escrita en el papel. No cabe duda de que lo tena todo planeado de antemano y que si hubiera podido matar al mayor, habra dejado una notita similar sobre el cadver, para indicar que no se trataba de un asesinato vulgar, sino, desde el punto de vista de los cuatro socios, de algo parecido a un acto de justicia. Las reivindicaciones de este tipo, pintorescas y extravagantes, son bastante corrientes en los anales del crimen y, por lo general, proporcionan valiosa informacin acerca del criminal. Me sigue hasta ahora?
––Todo est muy claro.
––Pues sigamos. Qu poda hacer Jonathan Small? Nada, aparte de seguir vigilando en secreto los esfuerzos que se hacan para encontrar el tesoro. Es posible que se marchara de Inglaterra y slo volviera de vez en cuando. Entonces se descubre la buhardilla y l es informado al instante. Una vez ms, encontramos indicios de la presencia de un cmplice en la casa. Jonathan, con su pierna postiza, nunca habra podido llegar hasta la habitacin de Bartholomew Sholto, en el piso ms alto. Pero le acompaa un aliado bastante curioso que consigue superar esta dificultad, aunque mete el pie desnudo en la creosota. Y aqu entra Toby y la penosa caminata de seis millas para un pobre funcionario a media paga con un tendn de Aquiles estropeado.
––Pero entonces fue el compaero, y no Jonathan, quien cometi el crimen.
––Exacto. Y con gran disgusto de Jonathan, a juzgar por la manera en que pate el suelo cuando entr en la habitacin. No tena nada personal contra Bartholomew Sholto y habra preferido limitarse a atarlo y amordazarlo. No senta ningn deseo de meter la cabeza en la horca. Sin embargo, la cosa ya no tena remedio; los instintos salvajes de su compaero se haban desatado y el veneno haba hecho su trabajo. As que Jonathan Small dej su tarjeta de visita, baj la caja del tesoro al suelo y luego descendi l. sta es la secuencia de acontecimientos, hasta donde puedo descifrarla. En cuanto a su aspecto personal, desde luego tiene que ser de edad madura y tiene que estar tostado por el sol despus de haber cumplido condena en un horno como las islas Andaman. La estatura se deduce fcilmente de la longitud de sus pasos, y sabemos que tena barba, porque la barba fue lo nico en que se fij Thaddeus Sholto cuando lo vio en la ventana. No s si queda algo ms.
––El cmplice?
––Ah, s, en eso no hay mucho misterio. Pero muy pronto lo sabr usted todo. Qu agradable es el aire de la maana! Mire cmo flota aquella nubecilla. Parece una pluma rosa de un flamenco gigante. Y ya asoma el borde rojo del sol sobre las nubes de Londres. Lucir sobre muchsima gente, pero me atrevera a apostar que entre ella no hay nadie que est enfrascado en una tarea tan extraa como la nuestra. Qu pequeos nos sentimos, con nuestras insignificantes ambiciones y conflictos, en presencia de las grandes
fuerzas elementales de la Naturaleza! Qu tal lleva la lectura de Jean-Paul?
––Bastante bien. Lo descubr gracias a Carlyle.
––Eso es como remontar el ro hasta llegar al lago donde nace. Pues este hombre dice una cosa muy curiosa pero muy profunda: que la principal prueba de la grandeza del hombre est en su capacidad de percibir su propia pequeez. Eso demuestra una capacidad de comparacin y apreciacin que es, en s misma, una prueba de nobleza. Hay mucho alimento para la mente en Richter. No lleva usted pistola, verdad?
––Llevo el bastn.
––Es posible que necesitemos algo por el estilo si llegamos hasta su cubil. A Jonathan se lo dejo a usted, pero si el otro se pone desagradable, tendr que matarlo de un tiro.
Mientras hablaba, sac su revlver y, tras cargar dos de las recmaras, volvi a guardrselo en el bolsillo derecho de la chaqueta.
Durante todo aquel tiempo nos habamos dejado guiar por Toby, siguiendo las carreteras semirrurales, flanqueadas de mansiones, que conducen a la metrpoli. Pero ahora empezbamos a meternos ya en calles continuas, donde los trabajadores y obreros del puerto se haban puesto ya en movimiento, mientras mujeres desaliadas abran las ventanas y barran los escalones de las puertas. Los bares de tejado plano de las esquinas haban comenzado ya el negocio, y de ellos salan hombres de aspecto rudo, limpindose la barba con la manga despus de su trago matutino. Perros extraos iban de un lado a otro y nos miraban con curiosidad cuando pasbamos, pero nuestro inimitable Toby no desvi la mirada ni a la derecha ni a la izquierda y sigui trotando hacia delante, con el hocico pegado al suelo y soltando de vez en cuando un gaido de ansiedad que indicaba que el rastro estaba claro.
Habamos atravesado Streatham, Brixton y Camberwell, y ahora nos encontrbamos en Kennington Lane, despus de habernos desviado por las callejuelas laterales al este del Oval. Pareca que los hombres que perseguamos haban seguido una curiosa ruta en zigzag, probablemente con objeto de no llamar la atencin. Al final de Kennington Lane haban torcido a la izquierda por Bond Street y Miles Street. Esta ltima calle desemboca en Knight's Place, y all Toby dej de avanzar y empez a correr de un lado a otro, con una oreja levantada y la otra cada, convertido en la perfecta imagen de la indecisin canina. Luego se puso a andar en crculos, mirndonos de vez en cuando como si solicitara nuestra simpata en aquel momento de desconcierto.
––Qu demonios le pasa al perro? ––gru Holmes––. Seguro que no tomaron un coche ni se fueron volando en globo.
––Puede que se detuvieran aqu un rato ––suger.
––Ah! Todo va bien. Ah va de nuevo ––dijo mi compaero, en tono de alivio.
Efectivamente, despus de olfatear una vez ms por todas partes, el perro pareca haber tomado de pronto una decisin y se haba puesto en marcha, lanzndose con una energa y una determinacin que no le habamos visto hasta entonces. El olor pareca ser mucho ms fuerte que antes, porque ya ni siquiera tena que arrimar el hocico al suelo, sino que tiraba de la cuerda intentando echar a correr. Por la manera en que brillaban los ojos de Holmes, supe que nos acercbamos al final de nuestro recorrido.
As bajamos por Nine Elms hasta llegar al gran almacn de maderas de Broderick, pasada la taberna del guila Blanca. Al llegar all, el perro, excitado hasta el frenes, se meti por una puerta lateral del almacn, donde ya haba aserradores trabajando. Avanz a la carrera entre el aserrn y las virutas, recorri un callejn, torci por un pasillo entre dos pilas de maderos y por fin, con un ladrido de triunfo, se subi de un salto a un gran barril, colocado an sobre la carretilla en la que lo haban trado. Con la lengua fuera y los ojos parpadeantes, Toby se qued encima del barril, mirndonos a Holmes y a m en espera de alguna seal de aprobacin. Las duelas del barril y las ruedas de la carretilla estaban manchadas de un lquido oscuro y todo el ambiente estaba cargado de olor a creosota.
Sherlock Holmes y yo nos miramos el uno al otro con mirada inexpresiva y luego estallamos al mismo tiempo en una incontenible carcajada.