The Flying Scotsman
““The police determined to hold the two in the lav, certain that with a constable to guard the door, it must serve well for their confinement until they could be taken along to jail.” I looked directly at Holmes, saying, “Ah, Mister Holcomb. This is Arthur Burley of the Sheffield Intelligencer. He has taken an interest in the case you did so much to solve.”
“A reporter, you say?” Holmes beamed, holding out his hand. “A pleasure to know you, Mister Burley. I think of ourselves as brethren in ...type.” He beamed at this labored witticism. “Quite a change, seeing a journalist seeking to present the facts of an event instead of a more sensational fable. If I may assist in any way to present an accurate picture of the events in question, I would be honored to do so.” He signaled to Whitfield. “A brandy please, in a snifter.”
“Right away, Mister Holcomb,” said Whitfield, and I saw him put down the bottle he had previously opened into one of the storage crates before he unsealed a new one.MoreLess
“A reporter, you say?” Holmes beamed, holding out his hand. “A pleasure to know you, Mister Burley. I think of ourselves as brethren in ...type.” He beamed at this labored witticism. “Quite a change, seeing a journalist seeking to present the facts of an event instead of a more sensational fable. If I may assist in any way to present an accurate picture of the events in question, I would be honored to do so.” He signaled to Whitfield. “A brandy please, in a snifter.”
“Right away, Mister Holcomb,” said Whitfield, and I saw him put down the bottle he had previously opened into one of the storage crates before he unsealed a new one.MoreLess
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