"Are you, though!" cried Peters as a woman's voice and heavy
steps sounded in the passage. "We'll soon see about that. This
way, officers, if you please. These men have forced their way
into my house, and I cannot get rid of them. Help me to put them
out."

A sergeant and a constable stood in the doorway. Holmes drew his
card from his case.

"This is my name and address. This is my friend, Dr. Watson."

"Bless you, sir, we know you very well," said the sergeant, "but
you can't stay here without a warrant."

"Of course not. I quite understand that."

"Arrest him!" cried Peters.

"We know where to lay our hands on this gentleman if he is
wanted," said the sergeant majestically, "but you'll have to go,
Mr. Holmes."

"Yes, Watson, we shall have to go."

A minute later we were in the street once more. Holmes was as
cool as ever, but I was hot with anger and humiliation. The
sergeant had followed us.

"Sorry, Mr. Holmes, but that's the law."