Countess of Morcar's.
Thanks.
My God, she's back.
She's getting out of the carriage.
Come on, Ryder, get a move on.
All right, Horner. Look lively. Get moving.
Her ladyship won't want workmen under her feet.
All right, I finished, don't worry. Quick job, like you said.
Oh, yeah, yeah, nice, nice.
Countess, eh? Have to get by appointment only...
Come on, lad, out.
All right.
Over there will do.
Here, for the three of you.
Thank you, milady, and a Merry Christmas, milady.
Ring for tea, Cusack.
Yes, milady.
I need something to sustain me.
I do find preparing for Christmas quite an ordeal.
Yes, milady.
And then,
a bath, I think.
Milady.
The blue carbuncle,
the blue carbuncle,
it's stolen.
Open them up, there.
Oh, John, she'll love it,
it is beautiful.
Just like her mother.
But can we afford it, though?
I told you, I made a nice little bob or two lately.
Even if I hadn't it's Christmas.
You're a good man, John Horner.
I'm a lucky man,
a wife and kids like I've got, means as good as a king.
So, it's the doll for the girl, and the boat for the boy, right?
Right.
Spending the loot already, are we, Horner?
What do you mean? I've done nothing, what do you mean?
John Frederick Horner,
I hereby arrest you on the charge of stealing
the valuable gem known as the blue carbuncle,
the property of the Countess of Morcar. Anything you say...
I didn't do it, I tell you, I didn't do it.
It's no use, Horner, the men at the hotel gave a very good description of you.
I didn't do it, I tell you,
let me go, will you, I didn't do it.
Mr. Holmes?
Mr. Peterson, the commissionaire from Upasit...
Oh, please... Go away.
I'm sorry to disturb you, Mr. Holmes.
Peterson,
put down your goose,
and your, your hat.
It's a fine purchase,
I myself favor a goose for Christmas dinner.
Well, that's part of the problem, Mr. Holmes,
the bird is not mine. You might say, I come by it.
"For Mrs. Henry Baker," and obviously, not your hat.
No, sir. Well, there were peculiar circumstances,
and I didn't know what to do for the best.
It hardly seemed a matter for the police.
So I talked to the wife about it,
and she suggested I come and see you.
The wise Mrs. Peterson. Sit down, my dear fellow,
and describe these peculiar circumstances to me.
Well, sir, it was like this.
Last night I was on my way home from a little, uh, celebration.
Well, at this time of the year some of us commissionaires meet to...
To wish each other the season's greetings.
Exactly.
The season's greetings.
Oh, you're a top, sir.
Your good health, sir.
Well, as I was saying, I was on my way home
when I came across what you would only describe as a "fracas".
Oy,
what's happening?
Blimey, it's a copper. Get out of here.
I'm trying to help you, man.
Well, the roughs ran off in one direction, and the drunk fellow ran off in the other.
I tried to stop him, but he no doubt thought.
I was a constable about to apprehend him for the breaking of the window.
And so you left with the spoils of victory in the shape of that battered hat,
and a most unimpeachable Christmas goose.
Both of which I would willingly
have returned to their rightful owners, Mr. Holmes.
But the truth is, I didn't know how.
My dear Peterson, I do see your problem.
Anyway, as I say,
I discussed the matter with the good lady, and we decided that I would bring both
the goose and the hat to you, Mr. Holmes,
seeing as how even the slightest of problems is of interest to you
in your particular line of occupation.
I hope you don't think I'm wasting your time, Mr. Holmes.
Not in the least.
Now then, Commissionaire. Have you purchased your own bird?
No, not yet.
Then I suggest that you carry off this goose so that it
may fulfill its ultimate destiny,
while I retain the battered hat of the unknown gentleman
who has lost his Christmas dinner.
Well, if you think I should, Mr. Holmes.
I do, indeed.
For there are signs, in spite of the frost,
that this bird should be prepared without unnecessary delay.
Well, if that's all right, Mr. Holmes.
I will of course, keep you in touch with the developments.
Very good, sir.
Oh, uh, may I wish you the complements of the season.
And to you and your good wife.
But you still haven't found the jewel.
Not yet, no, milady, but we do have the man, Horner.
Or have a clue as to its whereabouts.
And I think we may assume that
he had one accomplice, if not more.
Well, what of that?
Contrary to popular fiction, milady,
there is very little honor amongst thieves,
and even less with the right inducement.
Inducement, do you mean a reward?
Uh, yes.
Why should I offer a reward?
In my experience, and it is considerable,
I have found that the offer of a reward
would very soon set the greedy cat amongst the criminal pigeon
Well?
I should be very surprised if I did not gain a result within 24 hours.
How much?
Holmes?
Oh, you're up.
The Countess of Morcar is offering a thousand pounds
for the return of the blue carbuncle.
Inspector Bradstreet of B Division is in charge of the case,
and has arrested Mr. John Horner, a plumber, age 36,
who protested his innocence in the strongest terms.
Circumstantial evidence was so strong that the case
has been referred to the Assizes.
Horner, who showed signs of intense emotion
during the proceedings, faded away at the conclusion
and was carried from the court.
Oh, excuse me, you are engaged.
I am interrupting your study of that hat.
No, no, no, the matter is a perfectly trivial one.
But there are points in connection with it
which are not devoid of interest,
even of instruction.
I suppose that homely as it looks,
that thing has some deadly story linked to it
that is the clue which will guide you in the solution of some mystery
and the punishment of some crime.
No, no, no, no,
it is just one of those whimsical little instance
that will occur when you have four million people
jostling each other within the space of a few square miles.
So, what do you gather from that battered old felt?
You know my methods.
What do you yourself gather as to the individuality
of the man who has worn this particular article?
It was accompanied by a goose, Watson.
"For Mrs. Henry Baker," was printed upon a small card
attached to the bird's left leg.
Well, apart from the initials inside, HB,
presumably Henry Baker...
I can see nothing.
On the contrary, Watson, you can see everything,
but you fail to reason for what you see.
You are too timid in drawing your inferences.
Then, pray,
tell me what it is that you can infer from that hat?
That the man is highly intellectual is, of course, obvious.
And also that he was fairly well-to-do
within the past three years,
although now he has fallen upon evil days.
He had foresight, but less now than formerly,
pointing to a moral retrogression,
which, when taken with the decline of his fortunes,
seems to indicate an evil influence, probably drink.
This may account also for the fact that his wife has ceased to love him.
My dear, Holmes.
He has, however, retained some degree of self-respect,
and now he leads a sedentary life,
is out of training entirely.
He's middle-aged, has grizzled hair
which he has had cut within the last few days,
and which he anoints with lime-cream.
It is also highly improbable that he has gas laid on in his house.
Well, now you are certainly joking.
Not in the least.
Well, I have no doubt that I am very stupid.
For example, how do you deduce that the man is intellectual?
It is a question of cubic capacity.
A man with so large a head must have something in it.
Well, the decline in his fortunes, then?
These flat brims with the curled edges came in three years ago.
It is a hat of the very best quality, Watson.
Look at the band of ribbed silk and the excellent lining.
If this man could afford so expensive a hat
three years ago, and has had no hat since.
Then he has assuredly gone down in the world.
What about the foresight and the moral retrogression?
Ah, here is the foresight,
these securers are never sold upon hats.
If this man ordered one,
it is a sign of a certain amount of foresight,
since he went out of his way to take precaution against the wind.
But as you see that he has broken the elastic
and has not troubled to replace it,
a weakening nature.
The further points, that he is middle-aged,
that his hair is grizzled, that it has been cut recently.
And that he anoints it with lime-cream, can all to be gathered by an inspection
of the lower part of the lining, Watson.
Witness the moisture, obviously a free perspirer,
therefore, not in the best of training
But his, his wife,
you said she had ceased to love him.
This hat has not been brushed for weeks.
When I see a man
with a week's accumulation of dust upon his hat,
and his wife has allowed him to go out in such a state,
I fear that he has been unfortunate enough to lose his wife's affections.
He might be a bachelor.
Nay, but he brought a goose as a peace offering to his wife.
Remember the card attached to the bird's leg.
Yes, well, you have an answer to everything.
Just a minute, just a minute,
how do you deduce that there is no gas laid on in his house?
One tallow candle stain, or even two, might come by chance
but when I see, Watson, no less than five,
he never got candle stains from a gas jet, Watson.
Are you satisfied?
Well, it's all very ingenious.
Mr. Holmes, the goose, the goose, Mr. Holmes.
Well, what of it, man, has it come back to life
and flapped off through the kitchen window?
No, no sir, no sir, but see,
see what the wife found in its crop.
By Jove, Peterson,
this is a treasure-trove indeed. You know what you've got?
A diamond, a precious stone. It cuts glass like it was putty.
It is more than a precious stone.
It is the precious stone.
The Hotel Cosmopolitan robbery. The blue carbuncle.
The blue carbuncle, indeed.
It is absolutely unique, its value can only be conjectured.
And your reward, Peterson,
of 1000 pounds is not within a twentieth of its market price.
A thousand pounds, oh, Lord have mercy.
You must admit, Watson,
that my deductions in regard to this hat
have suddenly assumed a more important aspect.
Yes, point taken, Holmes.
Now, the question for us now to solve is to trace
the sequence of events from a rifled jewel case at one end,
to the crop of a goose at the other.
There is the stone. The stone came from the goose,
the goose came from Mr. Henry Baker,
the gentleman with the shabby hat and all the other characteristics.
So, now, we must set ourselves very seriously
to finding this gentleman,
and to ascertaining what part he had to play in this little mystery.
"Found at the corner of Goodge Street, a goose and a black felt hat."
"Mr. Henry Baker can have same by applying at 6:30 this evening"
"at 221 B, Baker Street", clear and concise.
Yes, very, but will he see it?
Well, I'm sure he will keep an eye on the evening papers,
for the poor man, the loss was a heavy one.
Oh, Peterson, uh, just nip down to the advertising agency
and have this put in all the evening papers.
Which, one, sir?
The Globe, Star, Pall Mall, St. James's Bissett, Echo,
Evening News, Standard, and all the others that may occur to you,
Right away, sir.
And the stone?
I shall keep the stone. Thank you, Peterson.
Oh, and Peterson,
uh, would you pick up a goose on your way back?
Give him the money, will you, Watson.
We must have something to give Mr. Henry Baker
to take the place of the one which your family will very soon be devouring.
Oh, thank you, sir.
A thousand pounds?
A thousand pounds.
A thousand pounds, a thousand pounds.
What, uh, will you do with the stone?
I shall keep it
in my museum.
Well, Horner,
Her Ladyship is not at all pleased with me.
You might be under lock and key, but she'd rather her blue carbuncle was.
Never took it Inspector...
Well-
Tell me what you did with it, and, uh,
I'll put in a good word at your trial. But, if you don't...
I've been on the straight for years ever since I married Jenny.
If you don't,
and when the judge hears about your previous conviction,
you might never see your pretty wife again.
I've got you, Horner, but I need that jewel.
It's a bonny thing,
just see how it glints and sparkles.
Of course, it is a nucleus and focus of crime,
every good stone is. They are the devil's pet baits.
In the larger and older jewels every facet may stand for a bloody deed.
It was found in the banks of the Amoy River in southern China,
and is remarkable in having every characteristic of the carbuncle,
save that it is blue instead of ruby red.
This stone is not yet twenty years old.
In spite of its youth, it already has a sinister history.
There have been two murders, a vitriol-throwing, a suicide,
and several robberies brought about for the sake of this
forty-grain weight of crystallized charcoal.
Who would think that so pretty a toy
could be a purveyor to the gallows and the prison?
Come in.
Mr. Henry Baker, I believe?
Please, draw near the fire.
It is a cold night and I observe that your circulation
is more adapted for summer than for winter. Do sit down.
This is my friend and colleague, Dr. Watson.
How do you do, sir?
Mr. Baker...
is that your hat?
Oh, yes,
Oh, it is undoubtedly my hat.
Thank you, sir.
I would have advertised its loss but shillings
have not been so plentiful with me as they once were.
I had no doubt that the gang of roughs
who assaulted me had carried off both my hat and the bird.
I did not care to spend more money
in a hopeless attempt at recovering them.
Yes, well, of course, that is very understandable.
Oh, by the way, about your bird,
we were compelled to eat it.
To eat it...
It would have been of little use to anyone had we not done so.
But we have another goose upon the sideboard there,
which I presume will answer your purpose equally well.
It is about the same weight, and perfectly fresh as you can see.
Oh, yes, most certainly.
Of course, we have kept the feathers, legs, crop,
and so on of your own bird, if you so wish.
It might be useful to me as relics of my adventure,
but beyond that I can hardly see
what use the disjecta membra of my old acquaintance
could possibly be to me.
Oh, no, sir, with your permission I... I shall confine my attentions
to the excellent bird which I perceive upon your sideboard.
I would be interested to know where the other bird came from.
You see, I am somewhat of a fowl fancier,
and I have seldom seen a better grown bird.
It would be of great interest to me to know
precisely how it came into your possession.
It was the club, sir, the goose club.
The goose club, the exact circumstances?
I... I am not a rich man,
as you may see, sir, but I make a humble living
and a respectable one, if I may say so, in the British Museum.
Studying?
Studying, you might say.
And helping others with their studies. I... I have a certain knowledge of books.
That day, sir, I had finished work early
and left the museum in the afternoon.
I had a little business to attend to
before calling in at the Alpha Public House.
Several of us who work in the museum
frequent that establishment. And this year our good host,
Mr. Windigate, had instigated a goose club
by which, on consideration of some few pence each week,
we were to receive a bird at Christmas.
There we are, Mr. Baker, a very fine bird, as promised.
Magnificent specimen, indeed, landlord, eh.
Put you back in the wife's good books, eh?
She is still somewhat irked with me, I'm afraid.
Things may doubtless improve when I am
once more in gainful employment.
Oh, an academic nature, of course.
I have expectations.
Well, I owe you one last payment of eight pennies, eh.
Struck it rich, have we, Mr. B?
I chanced upon an acquaintance
of sympathetic disposition, I, that is to say,
I sold some of my books.
Oh, not your books. Mr. Baker.
Needs must, Mr. Windigate,
and at this season of the year more than ever,
we must not deprive those we love,
or even those to whom we are married.
And so, if you will set aside this impressive peace offering,
I shall fortify myself for the fray with a large glass of whiskey.
And a pint of your most excellent beer.
Merry Christmas to you.
Same to you, Mr. Baker.
Here we are, dear.
Come on, inside. Come in.
Well, sir, on my way home
I was attacked by the gang of roughs,
who I believed had stolen the goose.
My hat came off in the scuffle.
I... I remember little of it,
save that a uniformed officer appeared on the scene and we all made off.
Yes, of course, we quite understand.
In the circumstances. Well, all is well that ends well.
I am most indebted to you, sir, for your trouble.
A Scottish bonnet, I fear, is fitted neither to my years nor to my dignity.
My complements of the season to you, sir.
And to you too, sir.
Oh, thank you, sir.
Oh, uh, by the way.
Do you have gas laid on in your house?
Gas, alas, no.
Jolly good. Merry Christmas.
And to you both, gentlemen.
Well then, so much for Mr. Henry Baker.
He obviously knows nothing of the matter.
Ah, Mrs. Hudson.
Watson, do you need nourishment?
Not particularly.
Splendid. Mrs. Hudson, we shall turn dinner into supper,
and we will follow up this clue while it is still hot.
Which is more than the supper will be.
Good evening, gentlemen, and a very cold one.
It is, indeed, landlord, it is indeed.
And what shall be your pleasure?
Beer, Watson?
What? Oh, yes, splendid.
Two of your very best glasses of beer.
Right away, sir.
Your beer should be excellent if it is as good as your geese.
What geese?
Yes. We were talking, um, half an hour ago
to a Mr. Henry Baker, a member of your goose club.
Yes, but you see, them's not our geese.
Whose, then?
Well, I got the whole two dozen from a salesman in Covent Garden.
Who might that be?
Name of Breckinridge, a purveyor of the finest quality.
Mind you, if it's a bird you're after, I'd get to him as soon as poss.
Oh, it's a very busy time of year. As you'll appreciate.
Well, thank you so much for your advice.
Will you have a glass of beer with us, landlord?
Well, God bless you for a gentleman.
Now, for Mr. Breckinridge.
Can't it wait?
Watson, we have been given a line of investigation
which has been missed by the police,
and which a singular chance has placed in our hands.
Now, let us follow it out to the bitter end.
Extremely bitter.
Faces to the south, then, and quick, march.
Please.
I want to believe you, John,
I do, really,
but I can't argue with what the police is saying.
But they're only saying that cause I was there on the day.
It was an odd job.
Is that really the truth?
I promised when I married you, I'd never tell you a lie.
I kept my promise,
always will.
I want to believe you.
Uh, good evening.
Good evening.
Sold out of geese, I see.
Yeah, I'll have five hundred in the morning.
Too late, I think.
See the stall over there with the gas fire, try him.
Yes, but I was recommended to you.
Oh, who by?
The landlord of the Alpha Public House.
Oh, yeah, he had a couple of dozen off me.
Very good geese, too.
Where, may I ask, did you get them?
Here then, mister, what exactly are you driving at?
Come on, let's have it straight, now.
It's straight enough
I simply want to know who sold you the geese that you supplied to the Alpha.
Well then, I'm not gonna tell you, so now.
It really is of no matter,
but I fail to see why you should get so warm over a trifle.
Warm, you'd be as warm if you were as pestered as I am.
When I pay good money for a good article that should be an end of it
but it's where are the geese, who have you sold them to,
how much will you take for them?
You would think those were the only geese in the world,
the amount of fuss that's made over them.
Well, I can assure you that I have no connection
with anybody else who's made inquiries.
Inquiries, it's more like the inquisition. I'm not telling you.
Ah, well then, the bet is off.
What bet?
Well, I'm always ready to back my opinion on the matter of fowls,
and I have a fiver with my friend here
that the bird that I chose is country bred, right, Watson?
What?
Oh, oh, oh, yes, yes, absolutely.
Ah, you've lost your money then, cause it's town bred.
It is nothing of the kind.
I say it is.
I don't believe you.
Come on, pay up, Holmes.
What, do you think I wouldn't know,
me, who's been handling fowl since I was a nipper?
I'll tell you, all the birds that went to the Alpha were town bred.
You'll never make me believe that.
Come on, come on, do the decent, Holmes.
Will you have a bet, then?
I'll be just taking your money, but I'll have a sovereign with you,
just to teach you not to be obstinate.
Done.
Right.
Now then, Mr. Cocksure, you see these here books here,
this is a list of all the folk what I buy off.
Now, on this page is all me country folk,
and these on this side in red ink are all me town suppliers.
Now you read out that third name down to me.
Mrs. Oakshott, 117 Brixton Road.
Yeah, account number 249. Go on, then, turn it up in the ledger.
Mrs. Oakshott, egg and poultry supplier?
Now, what's the last entry?
Twenty-four geese at seven and six pence.
Sold to Mr. Windigate of the Alpha Public House.
So, what are you gonna say now?
What about this gentleman's fiver?
Well done, Holmes.
Shall we see this Mrs. Oakshott tonight?
Oh, no, not you again, I've had enough of you.
Listen, I've told you before, clear off.
But the thing is, there were two gray-headed geese.
Now, listen, I've had enough of you and those geese.
I wish you was all at the devil together.
If you come pestering me any more with your silly talk,
I'll set the dog on you.
Now, look here, Mrs. Oakshott told me...
You bring Mrs. Oakshott here, and I'll answer her,
but what have you got to do with it, eh?
Did I buy the geese off you?
No, but one of them was mine all the same.
Well, you go and ask Mrs. Oakshott for it.
She told me to ask you.
You can ask the King of Prusia, for all I care. I've had enough of this.
Go on, get out of it.
This may save us a trip to Brixton.
Excuse me,
but I could not help overhearing the conversation
you had just now with that salesman.
I think I can be of assistance to you in this matter.
Yea, who are you?
My name is Sherlock Holmes.
It is my business to know what other people don't know.
But you could know nothing of this.
On the contrary, I know everything of it.
I know that you are trying to find out the whereabouts of some geese
sold by Mrs. Oakshott, of Brixton Road,
to our friend, Mr. Breckinridge, over there.
Who in turn, sold them to Mr. Windigate, of the Alpha Public House.
Sir, you're the very man I have longed to meet.
I can hardly explain to you my interest in the matter.
Then I suggest that we carry on this conversation in rather more comfort.
Cab.
Come in, take my chair.
I will just put on my slippers.
I think we should know the name of the gentleman
whom we have the pleasure of assisting, don't you, Watson?
John Robinson.
Oh, no, no, no, no, your real name.
It is so awkward doing business with an alias.
Well then, uh, my real name is Ryder, James Ryder.
Yes, Mr. Ryder, upper attendant at the Hotel Cosmopolitan.
Yes.
And I suppose you would like to know what happened to these geese,
or, rather, one goose, in particular,
white, with a gray head?
Oh, sir, can you tell me where it went to?
It came here.
Here?
Sadly, it is no longer here.
But it laid an egg after it was dead-
the bonniest, brightest little blue egg you have ever seen.
Come,
come, I have it.
The game is up, Ryder.
Bear up, man, you'll be in the fire.
And what a wretched little shrimp it is, to be sure,
there's enough blood in him for felony.
I have almost every link in the chain, Ryder,
you need tell me very little.
Catherine Cusack put me up to it.
Her Ladyship's maid.
Exactly.
You knew from local gossip that Horner
had been concerned in some such matter before.
So what did you do,
you made some small job in milady's room,
you and your confederate Cusack.
You then managed that Horner should be sent for.
But you, you stole the jewel,
then you raised the alarm and had this unfortunate man arrested.
For God's sake, Mr. Holmes, have mercy.
Think of my father, think of my mother, it would break their hearts.
I mean, I never went wrong before, I never will again. I swear it on a Bible.
Oh, don't... don't bring me to court, Mr. Holmes.
For God's sake, don't do that to me.
Get back into your chair.
It is very well to cringe and crawl now,
but you thought little of the man that you sent
to the dock for a crime of which he knew nothing.
I'll fly, Mr. Holmes. I'll leave the country.
Then the charge against him will break down.
We'll talk about that later. Now tell me,
how came the stone into the goose.
And how came the goose into the open market?
Tell me the truth, now, for that is your only hope of safety.
I'll tell it to you just as it happened.
I thought it was best to get away with the stone as quick as I could
for I didn't know at what moment the police might not take it
into their heads to search me and my room.
There was nowhere in the hotel where it would be safe.
So, I went out, as if on some commission,
and made for my sister's house to think things over.
Why, Jim, whatever is it, you look terrible.
I had a bit of a turn, Maggie. There's been a robbery at the hotel.
You'd better come in.
I went into the back yard where she kept the geese.
Smoked a pipe, and wondered what it would be best to do.
I remember that my stomach wasn't gonna stop
feeling like a bag of ferrets
till I found somewhere to hide the stone for a while.
When suddenly, I looked at the geese,
which was hissing and huddling in the corner of the yard.
My sister had told me that I might have the pick of her geese
for a Christmas present.
I picked out one of the birds,
a fine thick one with a gray head.
I pushed the stone down its throat as far as my finger could reach.
Then I thought all my troubles was over, when...
Whatever are you doing with that bird, Jim?
Uh, you said I could have one for Christmas,
so I was just feeling which is the fattest.
We already set yours aside... Jim's bird, we call it.
Uh, if it's all the same to you, Maggie,
I'd rather have that one I was handling just now.
Well, that one is a good three pounds heavier,
we fattened it up expressly.
Never mind. I'll take the other, and I'll take it now.
Just as you like. Which one is it?
It's that gray-headed one in the middle.
Oh, very well.
Kill it and take it with you.
I did what she said, Mr. Holmes,
and I carried the bird to my pal, we got a knife,
and we opened it up, my heart turned to water.
There was no sign of the stone,
and I knew some terrible mistake must have occurred.
Where have they all gone?
To the dealer's.
Which dealer's?
Breckinridge, of Covent Garden.
Tell me, just tell me.
Was there another one which had a gray head?
That's right, two,
I could never tell them apart, I couldn't.
Well, what's the matter, what's all the hurry?
I ran as hard as my feet would carry me to this man Breckinridge
but he had sold the lot, and not one word
would he tell me as to where they had gone.
I've, I've gone mad.
And now I'm a branded thief
without ever having touched the wealth
for which I've sold my character.
God help me.
Get out.
What?
Heavens, bless you, sir.
No more words.
Get out.
I must confess, Holmes, to being a little surprised.
I am not retained by the police to supply their deficiencies.
Maybe I am committing a felony, but I may be saving a soul.
Send him to jail now, you make him a jailbird for life.
Listen, after all, it is the season for forgiveness, come.
Midnight.
Merry Christmas, Holmes.
And to you, my dear friend.
Just a minute.
Holmes, I cannot contemplate eating while John Horner is still on remand.
Do you suppose that Bradstreet or one of his colleagues
might still be at their desks?
He will.