Holmes pocketed the ribbon, bent to observer the Turk’s index finger. A noticeable stain of tobacco, a mix well known to the detective, his. Straight as an arrow Holmes flew through the door to the oak at the fence. At its base was the remains of the Turkish cigarette.
Carefully lifting it with tweezers one gentle sniff told the tale of the Turk. His end was for lack of knowledge for his employers failed to reveal that the tobacco to be place in the home of the beekeeper was laced with poison
“One gram of tobacco would hardly be missed.”
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