The ideas of my friend Watson, though limited, are exceedingly
pertinacious. For a long time he has worried me to write an experience
of my own. Perhaps I have rather invited this persecution, since I
have often had occasion to point out to him how superficial are his own
accounts and to accuse him of pandering to popular taste instead of
confining himself rigidly to facts and figures. "Try it yourself,
Holmes!" he has retorted, and I am compelled to admit that, having
taken my pen in my hand, I do begin to realize that the matter must be
presented in such a way as may interest the reader. The following case
can hardly fail to do so, as it is among the strangest happenings in my
collection, though it chanced that Watson had no note of it in his
collection. Speaking of my old friend and biographer, I would take
this opportunity to remark that if I burden myself with a companion in
my various little inquiries it is not done out of sentiment or caprice,
but it is that Watson has some remarkable characteristics of his own,
to which in his modesty he has given small attention amid his
exaggerated estimates of my own performances. A confederate who
foresees your conclusions and course of action is always dangerous, but
one to whom each development comes as a perpetual surprise, and to whom
the future is always a closed book, is, indeed, an ideal helpmate.
I find from my notebook that it was in January, 1903, just after the
conclusion of the Boer War, that I had my visit from Mr. James M. Dodd,
a big, fresh, sunburned, upstanding Briton. The good Watson had at
that time deserted me for a wife, the only selfish action which I can
recall in our association. I was alone.
It is my habit to sit with my back to the window and to place my
visitors in the opposite chair, where the light falls full upon them.
Mr. James M. Dodd seemed somewhat at a loss how to begin the interview.
I did not attempt to help him, for his silence gave me more time for
observation. I have found it wise to impress clients with a sense of
power, and so I gave him some of my conclusions.
"From South Africa, sir, I perceive."
"Yes, sir," he answered, with some surprise.
"Imperial Yeomanry, I fancy."
"Exactly."
"Middlesex Corps, no doubt."
"That is so. Mr. Holmes, you are a wizard."