And the Yeah, Welcome back everyone to 1001 one classic short stories and tales and part two of Arthur Conan Doyle's The Adventure of Priory School, a Sherlock Holmes mystery.

We rejoin the story in progress.

With high hopes we struck across the Russet moor intersected with a thousand sheep paths

until we came to the broad light green belt which marked the morass between us and holiness.

Certainly if the lad had gone homewards he must have passed this and he

could not pass it without leaving his traces. But no sign of him or the German could be

seen.

With a darkening face, my friend strode along the margin, eagerly observant of every muddy

stain upon the mossy surface.

Sheep marks were there in profusion and at one place some miles down

cows had left their tracks. Nothing more.

Check number one, said Holmes, looking gloomily over the rolling expanse of the moor.

There is another morass down yonder and a narrow neck between.

Hello! Hello!

Hello!

What have we here?

We had come on a small black ribbon of pathway.

In the middle of it, clearly marked on the sodden soil was the track of a bicycle.

Hurrah! I cried, we have it!

But Holmes was shaking his head and his face was puzzled and expected rather than joyous.

Yes, it's a bicycle, certainly, but not THE bicycle, said he.

I'm familiar with 42 different impressions left by tires.

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