The Boscom Valley Mystery Part 1

We were seated at breakfast one morning, my wife and I, when the maid brought in a telegram

there was from Sherlock Holmes and ran in this way.

Have you a couple of days to spare have just been wired for from the west of England in

connection with the Boscom Valley tragedy?

Which I'll be glad if you will come with me, air and scenery perfect, leave Pattington

by the eleven fifteen.

What do you say dear, said my wife, looking across at me?

Will you go?

I really don't know what to say.

I have a fairly long list at present.

Oh, and Struther would do your work for you.

You have been looking a little pale lately.

I think that the change would do you good, and you are always so interested in Mr. Sherlock

Holmes' cases.

I should be ungrateful if I were not, seeing what I gained through one of them, I answered.

But if I am to go I must pack it once, for I have only half an hour.

My experience of camp life in Afghanistan had at least had the effect of making me a prompt

and ready traveler.

My wants were few and simple, so that unless in the time stated I was in a cab with my

valise, rattling away to Pattington station.

Sherlock Holmes was pacing up and down the platform, his tall, gaunt figure, made even

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