Sherlock Holmes Short Stories - The Adventure of the Priory School: Part Two

Episode Date: July 8, 2026

Part two of three. Holmes and Watson find a body on the moor... and the great detective thinks he's cracked the case. A Noiser podcast production.   Narrated by Hugh Bonneville  Written by Sir Arthur Conan Doyle Produced by Duncan Barrett Script Supervisor: Chris McDonald Sound Design and Audio Editing: Tony Onuchukwu and George Tapp Sound Supervisor: Tom Pink Compositions: Dorry Macaulay and Oliver Baines Mix & Mastering: Ralph Tittley Series Consultant: Dan Smith Executive Producer: Katrina Hughes   For ad-free listening and early access to new episodes, join Noiser+. Just click the subscription banner at the top of the feed to get started. Or go to noiser.com/subscriptions Learn more about your ad choices. Visit podcastchoices.com/adchoices

Whether life serves you an ace or an unexpected backhand, the high-protein yogurt, Oikos Pro, is there to feed your strength and help you turn every challenge into a smash. Oikos Pro helps build strong muscles and support muscle recovery with high protein and contains no added sugar. Because true strength isn't about being able to take the hits. It's about being able to bounce back. Oikos Pro, feed your strength. Visit oikos.ca for more details. Welcome to Sherlock Holmes short stories. I'm Hugh Bonneville and from the Noiser podcast network, this is The Adventure of the Priory School, part two.

Last time, Holmes and Watson travelled to the Peak District to investigate the disappearance of a very important schoolboy. Arthur, Lord Sultire, the 10-year-old son of the Duke of Holderness. His headmaster at the Priory School, Dr. Huxdable, fears, scandal and ruin. The school's German master is missing too. It looks like the two of them may have fled together in the night, perhaps heading for the boy's mother's house in France. After an acrimonious divorce, young Arthur has been less than happy living with his aristocratic father. Sherlock has already inspected the bedrooms of the two missing persons, both of which it seems

could only have been exited via the window. Now he's determined to get to grips with the geography of the moors around the school. And so plot their likely escape route. Sherlock Holmes left the house alone and only returned after 11. He had obtained a large ordinance map of the neighbourhood, and this he brought into my room where he laid it out on the bed, and having balanced the lamp in the middle of it, he began to smoke over it and occasionally to point out objects of interest

with the reeking amber of his pipe. This case grows upon me, Watson, said he. There are decidedly some points of interest in connection with it. In this early stage, I want you to realize those geographical features which may have a good deal to do with our investigation. Look at this map. This dark square is the priory school. I'll put a pin in it.

Now, this line is the main road. You see that it runs east and west past the school, and you see also that there is no side road for a mile either way. If these two folk passed away by road, it was this road. Exactly. By a singular and happy chance we are able to some extent to check what passed along this road during the night in question. At this point, where my pipe is now resting, a country constable was on duty from 12 to 6. It is, as you perceive, the first cross-road on the east side. This man declares that he was not absent from his post for an instant,

and he is positive that neither boy nor man could have gone that way unseen. I have spoken with this policeman tonight, and he appears to me to be a perfectly reliable person. That blocks this end. We have now to deal with the other. There is an inn here, the red bull, the landlady of which was ill. She had sent to Macleton for a doctor,

but he did not arrive until morning being absent at another case. The people at the inn were alert all night, awaiting his coming, and one or other of them seems to have continually had an eye upon the road. They declare that no one passed. If their evidence is good, then we are fortunate enough to be able to block the West, and also to be able to say that the fugitives did not use, the road at all. But the bicycle, I objected, quite so. We will come to the bicycle presently.

To continue our reasoning, if these people did not go by the road, they must have traversed the country to the north of the house or to the south of the house. That is certain. Let us weigh the one against the other. On the south of the house is, as you perceive, a large district of arable land, cut up into small fields with stone walls between them. There, I admit, that a bicycle is impossible. We can dismiss the idea. We turn to the country on the north. Here there lies a grove of trees marked as the ragged shore,

and on the farther side stretches a great rolling moor, lower Gilmore, extending for ten miles and sloping gradually upwards. Here, at one side of this wilderness, is Holderness Hall, Ten miles by road, but only six across the moor. It is a peculiarly desolate plain. A few more farmers have small holdings where they rear sheep and cattle. Except these, the plover and the curlew are the only inhabitants, until you come to the Chesterfield High Road.

There is a church there, you see, a few cottages and an inn. Beyond that, the hills become precipitous. Surely it is here to the north that our quest must lie. But the bicycle, I persisted. Well, well, said Holmes impatiently. A good cyclist does not need a high road. The moor is intersected with paths, and the moon was at the full. Hello?

What's this? There was an agitated knock at the door, and an instant afterwards Dr. Huxstable was in the room. In his hand he held a blue cricket cap with a white chevron on the peak. At last, we have a clue, he cried. Thank heaven, at last we are on the dear boys' track. It is his cap. Where was it found?

In the van of the gypsies who camped on the moor. They left on Tuesday. Today, the police traced them down and examined their caravan. This was found. How do they account for it? They shuffled and lied, said that they found it on the moor on Tuesday morning. They know where he is, the rascals. Thank goodness they are all safe under lock and key.

Either the fear of the law or the Duke's purse will certainly get out of them all that they know. So far, so good, said Holmes when the doctor had at last left the room. It at least bears out the theory that it is on the side of the lower gill more that we must hope for results. The police have really done nothing locally, save the arrest of these gypsies. Look here, Watson. There is a water course across the moor. You see it marked here in the map. In some parts it widens into a morass.

This is particularly so in the region between Holderness Hall and the school. It is vain to look elsewhere for tracks in this dry weather, but at that point there is certainly a chance of some record being left. I will call you early tomorrow morning, and you and I will try if we can throw some little light upon the mystery. The day was just breaking when I woke. to find the long, thin form of homes by my bedside. He was fully dressed, and had apparently already been out.

"'I have done the lawn and the bicycle shed,' said he. "'I have also had a ramble through the ragged shore. "'Now, Watson, there is cocoa ready in the next room. "'I must beg you to hurry, for we have a great day before us.' His eyes shone, and his cheek was flushed with the exhilaration of the master workman who sees his work lie ready before him. A very different homes, this active, alert man from the introspective and pallid dreamer of Baker Street. I felt, as I looked upon that supple figure, alive with nervous energy, that it was indeed a strenuous day that awaited us.

And yet it opened in the blackest disappointment. When you're a mid-sized business, you need every competitive advantage you can get. Like an AI solution that works for you, not against you. SAP Grow is built with AI embedded at its core, working across every system, and it's ready to go from day one, so you can hit the ground running. Bring it with SAP Grow, AI Cloud ERP for any size business. With high hopes, we struck across the peaty Russet Moore, intersected with a thousand sheep paths, until we came to the broad, light green belt which marked the morass between us

and holderness. Certainly if the lad had gone homewards, he must have passed this, and he could not pass it without leaving his traces. But no sign of him or the German could be seen. With a darkening face, my friend strode along the margin, eagerly observant of every muddy stain upon the mossy surface. Sheep marks there were in profusion, and at one place some miles down, cows had left their tracks. nothing more. Check number one, said Holmes, looking gloomily over the rolling expanse of the moor. There is another morass down yonder and a narrow neck between.

Hello, hello. Hello, what have we here? We had come on a small black ribbon of pathway. In the middle of it, clearly marked on the sodden soil, was the track of a bicycle. Hurrah, I cried. We have it. But Holmes was shaking his head, and his face was puzzled and expectant rather than joyous. A bicycle, certainly, but not the bicycle, said he.

I am familiar with 42 different impressions left by tyres. This, as you perceive, is a dunlop. With a patch upon the outer cover, Heidegger's tyres were palmers, leaving longitudinal stripes. Davilling, the mathematical master, was sure upon the point. therefore it is not Heidegger's track. The boys then? Possibly, if we could prove a bicycle to have been in his possession.

But this we have utterly failed to do. This track, as you perceive, was made by a rider who was going from the direction of the school. Or towards it? No, no, my dear Watson. The more deeply sunk impression is, of course, the hind-wheel, upon which the weight rests. you perceive several places where it has passed across and obliterated the more shallow mark of the front one. It was undoubtedly heading away from the school.

It may or may not be connected with our inquiry, but we will follow it backwards before we go any farther. We did so, and at the end of a few hundred yards lost the tracks as we emerged from the boggy portion of the moor. Following the path backwards, we picked out another spot where a spring trickled across it. Here, once again, was the mark of the bicycle, though nearly obliterated by the hoofs of cows. After that, there was no sign, but the path ran right on into ragged shore, the wood which backed onto the school.

From this wood, the cycle must have emerged. Holmes sat down on a boulder and rested his chin in his hands. I had smoked two cigarettes before he moved. Well, well, said he at last, It is, of course, possible that a cunning man might change the tire of his bicycle in order to leave unfamiliar tracks. A criminal who was capable of such a thought is a man whom I should be proud to do business with. We will leave this question undecided and hark back to our morass again, for we have left a good deal unexplored.

We continued our systematic survey of the edge of the sodden portion of the moor, and soon our perseverance was gloriously rewarded. warded. Right across the lower part of the bog lay a miry path. Holmes gave a cry of delight as he approached it. An impression like a fine bundle of telegraph wires ran down the centre of it. It was the Palmer tyre. Here is Herr Heidegger sure enough, cried Holmes exultantly. My reasoning seems to have been pretty sound, Watson. I congratulate you. But we have a long way still to go? Kindly walk clear of the path. Now let us follow the trail. I fear that it will not

lead very far. We found, however, as we advanced, that this portion of the moor is intersected with soft patches, and though we frequently lost sight of the track, we always succeeded in picking it up once more. Do you observe, said Holmes, that the rider is now undoubtedly forcing the pace? There can be no doubt of it. Look at this impression where you get both tires clear. The one is as deep as the other. That can only mean that the rider is throwing his weight onto the handlebar as a man does when he is sprinting.

But Jove, his had a fall. There was a broad, irregular smudge covering some yards of the track. Then there were a few footmarks, and the tyre reappeared once more. A side slip, I suggested. Holmes held up a crumpled branch of flowering gorse. To my horror, I perceived that the yellow blossoms were all dabbled with crimson. On the path, too, and among the heather were dark stains of clotted blood. Bad, said Holmes.

Bad! Stand clear, Watson, not an unnecessary footstep. What do I read here? He fell, wounded. He stood up. He remounted, he proceeded. But there is no other track. Cattle on this side path?

He was surely not gourd by a bull. Impossible. But I see no traces of anyone else. We must push on, Watson, surely with stains as well as the track to guide us, he cannot escape us now. Our search was not a very long one. The tracks of the tyre began to curve fantastically. fantastically upon the wet and shining path.

Suddenly, as I looked ahead, the gleam of metal caught my eye from amid the thick gorse bushes. Out of them, we dragged a bicycle, palmer tired, one pedal bent, and the whole front of it horribly smeared and slobbered with blood. On the other side of the bushes, a shoe was projecting. We ran round, and there lay the unfortunate rider. He was a tall man, full-bearded with spectacles, one glass of which had been knocked out. The cause of his death was a frightful blow upon the head which had crushed in part of his skull, that he could have gone on after receiving such an injury said much for the vitality and courage of the man.

He wore shoes, but no socks, and his open coat disclosed a nightshirt beneath it. It was undoubtedly the German master. Holmes turned the body over reverently and examined it with great attention. He then sat in deep thought for a time, and I could see by his ruffled brow that this grim discovery had not, in his opinion, advanced us much in our inquiry. "'It is a little difficult to know what to do, Watson,' said he at last. My own inclinations are to push this inquiry on,

for we have already lost so much time that we cannot afford to waste another hour. On the other hand, we are bound to inform the police of the discovery, and to see that this poor fellow's body is looked after. I could take a note back. But I need your company and assistance. Wait a bit. There is a fellow cutting peat up yonder. Bring him over here, and he will guide the police.

I brought the peasant across, and Holmes dispatched the frightened man with a note to Dr. Huxstable. Now, Watson, said he, we have picked up two clothes this morning. One is the bicycle with the palmer tyre, and we see what that has led to. The other is the bicycle with the patched Dunlop. Before we start to investigate that, let us try to realise what we do know, and so as to make the most of it, and to separate the essential from the accidental. "'First of all, I wish to impress upon you that the boy certainly left of his own free will. "'He got down from his window and he went off, either alone or with someone, that is sure.'

"'I assented. Well, now, let us turn to this unfortunate German master. "'The boy was fully dressed when he fled. "'Therefore he foresaw what he would do, but the German went without his socks. "'He certainly acted on very short notice. Undoubtedly, why did he go? Because from his bedroom window he saw the flight of the boy, because he wished to overtake him and bring him back. He seized his bicycle, pursued the lad, and in pursuing him, met his death.

So it would seem. Now I come to the critical part of my argument. The natural action of a man in pursuing a little boy would be to run after him. He would know that he could overtake him, but the German does not do so. He turns to his bicycle. I am told that he was an excellent cyclist. He would not do this if he did not see that the boy had some swift means of escape. The other bicycle.

Let us continue our reconstruction. He meets his death five miles from the school, not by a bullet, mark you, which even a lad might conceivably discharge, but by a savage blow dealt by a vigorous arm. The lad then had a companion. in his flight. And the flight was a swift one, since it took five miles before an expert cyclist could overtake them. Yet, we survey the ground round the scene of the tragedy. What do we find? A few cattle tracks? Nothing more. I took a wide sweep round, and there is no path within 50 yards. Another cyclist could have had nothing to do with the actual murder, nor were there any human

footmarks. Holmes, I cried, this is impossible. Admirable, he said, a most illuminating remark. It is impossible, as I stated it, and therefore I must in some respect have stated it wrong. Yet you saw for yourself. Can you suggest any fallacy? He could not have fractured his skull in a fall? In a morass, Watson. I am at my wits end. Tutt, tut! We have solved some. We have solved some worse problems. At least we have plenty of material if we can only use it. Come then, and having exhausted the palmer, let us see what the dunlop with the patched cover has to offer us. We picked up the track and followed it onwards for some distance. But soon the moor rose into a long heather-tuffed-curve and we left the watercourse behind us. No further help from tracks could be

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Better never stops. At the spot where we saw the last of the Dunlop tire, it might equally have led to Holderness Hall, the stately towers of which rose some miles to our left, or to a low grey village which lay in front of us and marked the position of the Chesterfield High Road. As we approached the forbidding and squalid in with the sign of a gamecock above the door,

Holmes gave a sudden groan and clutched me by the shoulder to save himself from falling. He had had one of those violent strains of the ankle Which leave a man helpless With difficulty he limped up to the door Where a squat, dark elderly man was smoking a black clay pipe How are you, Mr. Ruben Hayes? said Holmes. Who are you? And how'd you get my name so pat?

The countryman answered, with a suspicious flash of a pair of cunning eyes. Well, it's printed on the board above your head. It's easy to see a man who is master of his own house. I suppose you haven't such a thing as a carriage in your stables? No, I have not. I can hardly put my foot to the ground. Don't put it to the ground. But I can't walk.

Well, then, hop. Mr. Ruben Hayes's manner was far from gracious, but Holmes took it with admirable good humour. Look here, my man, said he. This is really rather an awkward fix for me. "'I don't mind how I get on.' "'Neither do I,' said the morose landlord. "'The matter is very important.

"'I would offer you a sovereign for the use of a bicycle.' The landlord pricked up his ears. "'Where do you want to go?' "'To Holderness Hall.' "'Pals of the Duke, I suppose,' said the landlord, surveying our mud-stained garments with ironical eyes. Holmes laughed good-naturedly. He'll be glad to see us anyhow.

Why? Well, because we bring him news of his lost son. The landlord gave a very visible start. Well, were you on his track? He has been heard of in Liverpool. They expect to get him every hour. Again, a swift change passed over the heavy, unshaven face. His manner was suddenly genial.

I've less reason to wish the Duke well than most men. said he, for I was his head coachman once, and cruel bad he treated me. It was him that sacked me without a character on the word of a lying corn-chandler. But I'm glad to hear that the young lord was heard of in Liverpool, and I'll help you to take the news to the hall. Thank you, said Holmes. We'll have some food first, then you can bring round the bicycle. I haven't got a bicycle. Holmes held up a sovereign. I'll tell you, man, that I haven't got one. I'll let you have two horses as far as the whole.

Well, well, said Holmes. We'll talk about it when we've had something to eat. When we were left alone in the stone-flagged kitchen, it was astonishing how rapidly that sprained ankle recovered. It was nearly nightfall, and we had eaten nothing since early morning, so that we spent some time over our meal. Holmes was lost in thought and once or twice he walked over to the window

and stared earnestly out it opened onto a squalid courtyard in the far corner was a smithy where a grimy lad was at work on the other side were the stables Holmes had sat down again after one of these excursions when he suddenly sprang out of his chair

with a loud exclamation By heaven Watson I believe that I've got it he cried Yes, yes, it must be so. Watson, do you remember seeing any cow tracks today? Yes, several. Where? Well, everywhere. They were at the morass and again on the path and again near where poor Heidegger met his death. Exactly. Well, now, Watson, how many cows did you see on the moor? I don't remember seeing any. Strange, Watson, that we should see tracks all along our line, but never a cow on the whole moor.

"'You're very strange, Watson, eh?' "'Yes, it is strange. "'Now, Watson, make an effort. "'Throw your mind back. "'Can you see those tracks upon the path?' "'Yes, I can. "'Can you recall that the tracks were sometimes like that, Watson?' "'He arranged a number of breadcrumbs in this fashion.

"'And sometimes like this, and occasionally like this, "'can you remember that?' "'No, I cannot. "'But I can. "'I could swear to it. "'However, we will go back.' at our leisure and verify it. What a blind beetle I have been

not to draw my conclusion. And what is your conclusion? Only that it is a remarkable cow which walks, canters and gallops. By George Watson, it was no brain of a country publican that thought out such a blind as that. The coast seems to be clear,

save for that lad in the smithy. Let us slip out and see what we can see. There were two rough-haired unkempt horses in the tumble-down stable. Holmes raised the hind leg of one of them and laughed aloud. Old shoes but newly shod. Old shoes, but new nails. This case deserves to be a classic. Let us go across to the smithy.

The lad continued his work without regarding us. I saw Holmes's eye darting to right and left among the litter of iron and wood which was scattered about the floor. Suddenly, however, we heard a step behind us, and there was the landlord. His heavy eyebrows drawn over his savage eyes, his swarthy features convulsed with passion. He held a short, metal-headed stick in his hand,

and he advanced in so menacing a fashion that I was right glad to feel the revolver in my pocket. You infernal spies! The man cried. What are you doing there? Why, Mr. Ruben Hayes, said Holmes coolly, one might think that you were afraid of our finding something out. The man mastered himself with a violent effort, and his grim mouth loosened into a false laugh, which was more menacing than his frown. You're welcome to all you can find out in my smithy, said he.

But look here, Mr. I don't care for folk poking about my place without my leave. "'So the sooner you pay your score and get out of this, "'the better I should be pleased.' "'All right, Mr. Hayes, no harm meant,' said Holmes. "'We have been having a look at your horses. "'But I think I'll walk after all. "'It's not far, I believe.' "'Not more than two miles to the hall-gates.

"'That's the road to the left.' "'He watched us with sullen eyes "'until we had left his premises. "'We did not. go very far along the road, for Holmes stopped the instant that the curve hid us from the landlord's view. We were warm, as the children say, at that inn, said he. I seem to grow colder every step that I take away from it. No, no, I can't possibly leave it. I am convinced, said I, that this Ruben Hayes knows all about it, a more self-evident villain I never saw. Oh, he

impressed you in that way, did he? There are the horses. There is the smithy. Yes, it is an interesting place, this fighting cock. I think we shall have another look at it in an unobtrusive way. A long sloping hillside, dotted with grey limestone boulders, stretched behind us.

We had turned off the road, and were making our way up the hill, when, looking in the direction of Holderness Hall, I saw a cyclist coming swiftly along. "'Get down, Watson,' cried Holmes. "'We had hardly sunk from view when the man flew past us on the road. "'Amit a rolling cloud of dust I caught a glimpse of a pale, agitated face, "'a face with horror in every lineament. "'The mouth opened the eyes staring wildly in front.

"'It was like some strange caricature of the dapper, James Wilder, "'whom we had seen the night before.' "'The Duke's secretary,' cried Holmes. "'Come, Watson, let us see you. what he does. We scrambled from rock to rock until in a few moments we had made our way to a point from which we could see the front door of the inn. Wilder's bicycle was leaning against the wall beside it. No one was moving about the house, nor could we catch a glimpse of any faces at the windows. Slowly the twilight crept down as the sun sank behind the high towers of Holderness Hall.

Then, in the gloom, we saw the two side-lamps of a trap light up in the stable yard of the inn. and shortly afterwards heard the rattle of hoofs, as it wheeled out into the road and tore off at a furious pace in the direction of Chesterfield. "'What do you make of that, Watson?' Holmes whispered. "'It looks like a flight. A single man in a dog-cart, so far as I could see. Well, it certainly was not Mr. James Wilder.

"'For there he is at the door.' A red square of light had sprung out of the darkness. In the middle of it was the black figure of the secretary. His head advanced, peering out into the night. It was evident that he was expecting someone. Then, at last, there were steps in the road. A second figure was visible for an instant against the light. The door shut, and all was black once more.

Five minutes later, a lamp was lit in a room upon the first floor. It seems to be a curious class of custom that is done. by the fighting cock, said Holmes. The bar is on the other side. Quite so. These are what one may call the private guests. Now, what in the world is Mr. James Wilder doing in that den at this hour of night? And who is the companion who comes to meet him there?

Come, Watson, we must really take a risk and try to investigate this a little more closely. Together we stole down to the road and crept across to the door of the inn. The bicycle still leaned against the wall. Holmes struck a match and held it to the back wheel, and I heard him chuckle as the light fell upon a patched Dunlop tyre. Up above us was the lighted window. I must have a peep through that, Watson. If you bend your back and support yourself upon the wall,

I think that I can manage. An instant later his feet were on my shoulders, but he was hardly up before he was down again. Come, my friend, said he. Our day's work has been quite long enough. I think that we have gathered all that we can. It's a long walk to the school, and the sooner we get started, the better. He hardly opened his lips during that weary trudge across the moor, nor would he enter the school when he reached it, but went on to Macleton Station. whence he could send some telegrams. Late at night I heard him consoling Dr. Huxable,

prostrated by the tragedy of his master's death, and later still he entered my room as alert and vigorous as he had been when he started in the morning. "'All goes well, my friend,' said he. "'I promise that before tomorrow evening "'we shall have reached the solution of the mystery.' In the next and final part of the adventure of the Priory School, Holmes and Watson return to Holderness Hall, where the stage is set for an epic showdown. Family secrets are spilled, justice of a kind is meted out, and Holmes claims a hefty reward.

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