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Updated: July 28, 2025
'Perpetual motion, or squaring the circle, would baffle Gregory. He's an infant, is Gregory. This was one of the things I always liked about Kombs. There was no professional jealousy in him, such as characterises so many other men. He filled his pipe, threw himself into his deep-seated armchair, placed his feet on the mantel, and clasped his hands behind his head.
At this moment the whistle sounded shrilly, and we felt the grind of the air-brakes. 'The Pegram signal again, cried Kombs, with something almost like enthusiasm. 'This is indeed luck. We will get out here, Whatson, and test the matter. As the train stopped, we got out on the right-hand side of the line.
It is all a trivial example of ordinary observation." "Really, Mr. Kombs, you are the most wonderful man on earth. You are the equal of Gregory, by Jove, you are." A frown marred the brow of my friend as he placed his pipe on the sideboard and drew his self-cocking six-shooter. "Do you mean to insult me, sir?" "I do not I I assure you.
"Would you object to telling me how you know these particulars about a man you say you have never seen?" "I rarely talk about these things," said Kombs with great composure. "But as the cultivation of the habit of observation may help you in your profession, and thus in a remote degree benefit me by making your paper less deadly dull, I will tell you.
He left in a speechless condition, and I saw him go up the street with his hat still in his hand. Sherlaw Kombs relapsed into his old lounging attitude, with his hands clasped behind his head. The smoke came from his lips in quick puffs at first, then at longer intervals. I saw he was coming to a conclusion, so I said nothing. Finally he spoke in his most dreamy manner.
I found him playing the violin with a look of sweet peace and serenity on his face, which I never noticed on the countenances of those within hearing distance. I knew this expression of seraphic calm indicated that Kombs had been deeply annoyed about something.
Kombs was curiously ignorant on some subjects, and abnormally learned on others. I found, for instance, that political discussion with him was impossible, because he did not know who Salisbury and Gladstone were. This made his friendship a great boon. "The Pegram mystery has baffled even Gregory, of Scotland Yard." "I can well believe it," said my friend, calmly.
They opened the door with the deceased's key. It is supposed that the pistol dropped when they were hoisting the body in the carriage. The Queen's evidence dodge didn't work, and Scotland Yard ignobly insulted my friend Sherlaw Kombs by sending him a pass to see the villains hanged.
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