‘What on earth does this mean?’ I ejaculated, after I had twice read over the extraordinary announcement.

Holmes chuckled, and wriggled in his chair, as was his habit when in high spirits. ‘It is a little off the beaten track, isn’t it?’ said he. ‘And now, Mr Wilson, off you go at scratch, and tell us all about yourself, your household, and the effect which this advertisement had upon your fortunes. You will first make a note, Doctor, of the paper and the date.’

‘It is the Morning Chronicle, of April 27, 1890. Just two months ago’

‘Very good. Now, Mr Wilson?’

‘Well, it is just as I have been telling you, Mr Sherlock Holmes,’ said Jabez Wilson, mopping his forehead, ‘I have a small pawnbroker’s business at Coburg Square, near the City. It’s not a very large affair, and of late years it has not done more than just give me a living. I used to be able to keep two assistants, but now I only keep one; and I would have a job to pay him, but that he is willing to come for half wages, so as to learn the business.’

‘What is the name of this obliging youth?’ asked Sherlock Holmes.

‘His name is Vincent Spaulding, and he’s not such a youth either. It’s hard to say his age. I should not wish a smarter assistant, Mr Holmes; and I know very well that he could better himself, and earn twice what I am able to give him. But after all, if he is satisfied, why should I put ideas in his head?’

‘Why, indeéd? You seem most fortunate in having an employee who comes under the full market price. It is not a common experience among employers in this age. I don’t know that your assistant is not as remarkable as your advertisement.’

‘Oh, he has his faults, too,’ said Mr Wilson. ‘Never was such a fellow for photography. Snapping away with a camera when he ought to be improving his mind, and then diving down into the cellar like a rabbit into its hole to develop his pictures. That is his main fault; but on the whole, he’s a good worker. There’s no vice in him.’

‘He is still with you, I presume?’

‘Yes, sir. He and a girl of fourteen, who does a bit of simple cooking, and keeps the place clean—that’s all I have in the house, for I am a widower, and never had any family. We live very quietly, sir, the three of us; and we keep a roof over our heads, and pay our debts, if we do nothing more.

‘The first thing that put us out was that advertisement. Spaulding, he came down into the office just this day eight weeks with this very paper in his hand, and he says:

‘ “I wish to the Lord, Mr Wilson, that I was a red-headed man.”

‘ “Why that?” I asks.

‘ “Why” says he, “here’s another vacancy on the League of the Red-Headed Men. It’s worth quite a little fortune to any man who gets it, and I understand that there are more vacancies than there are men, so that the trustees are at their wits’ end what to do with the money. If my hair would only change colour, here’s a nice little crib all ready for me to step into.”

‘ “Why, what is it, then?” I asked. You see, Mr Holmes, I am a very stay-at-home man, and, as my business came to me instead of my having to go to it, I was often weeks on end without putting my foot over the door-mat. In that way I didn’t know much of what was going on outside, and I was always glad of a bit of news.

‘ “Have you never heard of the League of the Red-Headed Men?” he asked, with his eyes open.