up and started off for the address that was given us in the advertisement.
“I never hope to see anything like that again, Mr. Holmes. From north, south, east, and west every man who had a shade of red in his hair had come to answer the advertisement. Fleet Street was crowded with red-headed men. I had not thought there were so many in the whole country as were brought together by that advertisement. Every shade of red they were; but, as Spaulding said, there were not many who had the real blazing red. When I saw how many were waiting, I was in despair; but Spaulding got me through the crowd, and up to the steps which led to the office, and soon we found ourselves in the office.
“There was nothing in the office but a couple of wooden chairs and a table, behind which sat a small man with a head that was even redder than mine. He said a few words to each candidate as he came up, and then he always found some fault in them which would disqualify them[7]. Getting a vacancy did not seem to be such an easy matter, after all. However, when our turn came the little man was much more favourable to me than to any of the others, and he closed the door as we entered, so that he might speak in private with us.
“‘This is Mr. Jabez Wilson,’ said my assistant, ‘and he wishes to fill a vacancy in the League.’
“‘And he suits us,’ the other answered. ‘I do not remember when I saw anything so fine.’ He took a step backward, and looked at my hair. Then suddenly he ran forward, shook my hand, and congratulated me warmly on my success.
“‘I am sure, you will excuse me for taking a precaution.’ With those words he seized my hair in both his hands, and pulled until I cried with pain. ‘I think that all is as it should be. But we have to be careful, for we have twice been deceived by wigs and once by paint,’ said he as he released me. He went to the window and shouted at the top of his voice that the vacancy was filled.
“‘My name,’ said he, ‘is Mr. Duncan Ross. Are you a married man, Mr. Wilson? Have you a family?’
“I answered that I had not.
“His face fell.
“‘Dear me[8]!’ he said, ‘that is very serious indeed! I am sorry to hear you say that. The league was founded for the propagation of the red-headed men. It is very bad that you are a bachelor.’
“My face fell at this, Mr. Holmes, for I thought that I would not have the vacancy after all; but after thinking it over for a few minutes he said that it would be all right.
“‘We cannot lose a man with such a head of hair as yours. When will you be able to start work?’ said he.
“‘Well, I have a business already,’ said I.
“‘Oh, never mind about that[9], Mr. Wilson!’ said Vincent Spaulding. ‘I am able to look after that for you.’
“‘What will be the working hours?’ I asked.
“‘Ten to two.’
“A pawnbroker’s business is mostly done in the evening, Mr. Holmes, especially Thursday and Friday evening, which is just before pay-day; so it suited me very well to earn a little in the mornings. Besides, I knew that my assistant was a good man, and that he would see to anything that turned up.
“‘That will suit me very well,’ said I. ‘And the pay?’
“‘It is 4 pounds a week.’
“‘And the work?’
“‘Very simple.’
“‘What do you call very simple?’
“‘Well, you have to be in the office the whole time. If you leave, you will lose your position.’
“‘It’s only four hours a day, and I shall not leave,’ said I.
“‘Neither sickness, nor business, nor anything else will excuse you,’ said Mr. Duncan Ross; ‘you must stay there, or you lose your position.’
“‘And the work?’
“‘You are to copy out the Encyclopaedia Britannica. You must find your ink, pens, and paper, but we give you this table and chair. Will you be ready tomorrow?’
“‘Certainly,’ I answered.
“‘Then, good-bye, Mr. Jabez Wilson, and let me congratulate you once more on the important position which you have received.’ He showed me out of the room and I went home with my assistant. I was so pleased at my good fortune.”
II
“Well, I thought over the matter all day, and by evening I was in low spirits again; for now I was sure that the whole affair must be some great fraud. It seemed very strange that anyone could make such a will, or that they would pay such a sum for doing anything so simple as copying out the Encyclopaedia Britannica. However, in the morning I decided to have a look at it after all, so I bought a bottle of ink, and with a pen and seven sheets of paper, I started off for Fleet Street.
“Well, to my surprise and delight, everything was all right. The table was ready for me, and Mr. Duncan Ross was there to see that I started work. He told me to start with the letter A, and then he left me; but he came from time to time to see that all was right with me. At two o’clock he said good-bye to me, and locked the door of the office after me.
“This went on day after day, Mr. Holmes, and on Saturday the manager came in and paid four golden sovereigns for my week’s work. It was the same next week, and the same the week after. Every morning I was there at ten, and every afternoon I left at two. Usually Mr. Duncan Ross came in the morning, but after a time, he stopped coming in at all. Still, of course, I never left the room for a moment, for I was not sure when he might come, and the position was so good, and suited me so well, that I did not want to risk losing it.
“Eight weeks passed like this, and I had written almost all the letter A, and hoped that I soon might get on to the B.
“This morning I went to my work as usual at ten o’clock, but the door was locked, with a little note on it. Here it is, and you can read for yourself.”
He showed us a piece of paper. It read:
THE RED-HEADED LEAGUE IS DISSOLVED.
October 9, 1890.
Sherlock Holmes and I read this short note and looked at the sad face behind it, and the comical side of the affair was so obvious that we both burst out laughing.
“I cannot see that there is anything very funny,” cried our client. “If you can do nothing better than laugh at me, I can go to another detective.”
“No, no,” cried Holmes. “I really wouldn’t miss your case for the world[10]. It is most unusual. But there is something a little funny about it. What did you do when you found the note on the door?”
“I was astonished, sir. I did not know what to do. Then I called at the offices round, but nobody knew anything about it. I went to the landlord, who is living on the ground-floor, and I asked him if he could tell me what had become of the Red-headed League. He said that he had never heard of it. Then I asked him who Mr. Duncan Ross was. He answered that the name was new to him.
“Well,” said I, “the gentleman at No. 4.”
“What, the red-headed man?”
“Yes.”
“Oh,” said he, “his name was William Morris. He was a solicitor and was using my room until his new office was ready. He moved out yesterday.”
“Where can I find him?”
“Oh, at his new office. He told me the address. Yes, 17 King Edward Street.”
“I started off, Mr. Holmes, but when I got to that address it was a manufactory, and no one in it had ever heard of either Mr. William Morris or Mr. Duncan Ross.”
“And