Mr. Sherlock Holmes, who was usually very late in the mornings, save upon those not infrequent occasions when he was up all night, was seated at the breakfast table. I stood upon the hearth-rug and picked up the stick which our visitor had left behind him the night before. It was a fine, thick piece of wood, bulbous-headed, of the sort which is known as a "Penang lawyer." Just under the head was a broad silver band nearly an inch across. "To James Mortimer, M.R.C.S., from his friends of the C.C.H.," was engraved upon it, with the date "1884." It was just such a stick as the old-fashioned family practitioner used to carry-dignified, solid, and reassuring.
"Well, Watson, what do you make of it?"
Holmes was sitting with his back to me, and I had given him no sign of my occupation.
"How did you know what I was doing? I believe you have eyes in the back of your head."
"I have, at least, a well-polished, silver-plated coffee-pot in front of me," said he. "But, tell me, Watson, what do yo...
- Chapter I - Mr. Sherlock Holmes
- Chapter II - The Curse of the Baskervilles
- Chapter III - The Problem
- Chapter IV - Sir Henry Baskerville
- Chapter V - Three Broken Threads
- Chapter VI - Baskerville Hall
- Chapter VII - The Stapletons of Merripit House
- Chapter VIII - First Report of Dr. Watson
- Chapter IX - The Light upon the Moor [Second Report of Dr. Watson]
- Chapter X - Extract from the Diary of Dr. Watson
- Chapter XI - The Man on the Tor
- Chapter XII - Death on the Moor
- Chapter XIII - Fixing the Nets
- Chapter XIV - The Hound of the Baskervilles
- Chapter XV - A Retrospection