teunc.org Stories
Holmes
Sherlock
 
The Pointy-eared League
 
I placed my revolver, cocked, upon the top of the wooden case behind which I crouched. Holmes shot the slide across the front of his lantern, and left us in pitch darkness. The smell of the hot metal remained to assure us that the light was still there, ready to flash out at a moment's notice. To me, with my nerves worked up to a pitch of expectancy, there was something depressing and subduing in the sudden gloom, and in the cold, dank air of the vault.
  "They have but one retreat", whispered Holmes. "That is back through the house into Saxe-Coburg-Square. I hope that you have done what I asked you, Jones?"
  "I have an inspector and two officers waiting at the door", answered the official detective.
  "Then we have stopped all the holes. And now we must be silent and wait."
  What a time it seemed! It was but an hour and a quarter, but seemed much longer. In the darkness, my hearing was so acute that I could not only hear the gentle breathing of my companions, but I could distinguish the deeper, heavier in-breath of the bulky Athelney Jones from the thin, sighing noise of the bank director. From my position I could look over the case in the direction of the floor. Suddenly my eye caught the glint of a light.
  At first it was but a lurid spark upon the stone pavement. Then it lengthened out until it became a yellow line, and then, without any warning or sound, a gash seemed to open and a hand appeared, a white, almost womanly hand, which felt about in the centre of the little area of light. Then it disappeared, and with a rending, tearing sound, one of the broad, white stones turned over upon its side, and left a square, gaping hole, through which streamed the light of a lantern. Over the edge there peeped a clean-cut face, handsome bordering on the feminine. It looked keenly about it, and then, with a hand on either side of the aperture, drew itself shoulder high and waist high, until one knee rested upon the edge. In another instant he stood on the side of the hole, and was hauling after him a companion, lithe and small like himself, with a pale face and very pointed ears.
  "It's all clear", he whispered. "Have you the chisel and the bags? Great Sauron! Jump, Haldir, jump, and I'll swing for it!"
  Sherlock Holmes had sprung out and seized the intruder by the collar. The other dived down the hole, and I heard a sound of rending cloth as Jones clutched at his skirts. The light flashed upon the barrel of a revolver, but Holmes' hunting crop came down on the attacker's wrist, and the pistol clinked upon the stone floor.
  "It's no use, Celeborn", said Holmes blandly. "You have no chance at all."
  "So I see", the other answered with the utmost coolness. "I fancy that my pal is all right, though I see you have got his coat-tails."
  "There are three men waiting for him at the other end", said Holmes.
  "Oh, indeed. You seem to have done the thing very completely. I must compliment you."
  "And I you", Holmes answered. "Your idea of organizing a triad for the auricularly gifted was very new and effective."
  "Stand still, please", said Jones, "while I fix the derbies."
  "I beg you not to touch me with your filthy hands", remarked our prisoner, as the handcuffs clattered upon his wrists, "You may not be aware that  I have royal blood in my veins. Thingol of Doriath is a kinsman of mine."
  "All right", said Jones, with a stare and a snigger. "Well, would you please, sir, march upstairs, where we can get a cab to carry your highness to the police-station."
  "That is better", said Celeborn, serenely. He made a sweeping bow to the three of us, and walked quietly off in the custody of the detective.
  "Really, Mr Holmes" remarked Mr Merrybuck, as we followed them from the cellar, "I do not know how the bank can thank you or repay you. There is no doubt that you have detected and defeated in the most complete manner one of the most determined attempts at bank robbery that have ever come within my experience."
  "The pleasure is all mine", sad Holmes. "I have long wanted to lay my hands upon the chief culprit among those Elven layabouts that, not being welcome in the Undying Lands because of their incurable sloth, have chosen to form the Pointy-eared League to prey on honest humans. Celeborn is, of course, the worst of the lot; it is no wonder that his wife, Galadriel, a charming and virtuous lady, left him in disgust and eloped with Gimli the Dwarf."
  "You mean Sir Gimli Glóinsson, the chairman of Glittering Caves Unlimited?" said Merrybuck as we climbed the stairs. "He is one of our most important depositors."
  "And well did Celeborn know it", said Holmes. "Udûn hath no fury like that of an Elf scorned - particularly a ne'er-do-well Elf like Celeborn."

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The Hanging Man ] Interpreting the Tracks ] The Cardboard Box ] The Incredible Jumping Man ] How Did He Get It Back? ] What Does the "F" Stand For? ] Why the Bodies Never Were Found ] Where Did the Stone Come From? ] The Adventure of the Disappearing Troll ] [ The Pointy-eared League ] The Lamedon Vampire ] A Question of Ownership ] Yellow Faces ] The Case of the Over-sized Hobbit ] The Discovery ] The Crock of Gold ] The Adventure of Fëanor's Old Place ] The Flame of Udûn ] The Heiress ] The Adventure of the Curious Balrog ] South Weathertop ] At the "Admiral Falastur" ] The Adventure of the Unwanted Immigrant ] The Final Problem ]