The rain lashed the window-panes of -our sitting-room in Baker

Street, and outside the wind set up a dismal howling. It was a morning in mid-June. Opposite me my friend Sherlock Holmes sank deeper and deeper into gloom as he perused a file of cuttings from' The Times gossip column, a task which it was his habit to under- take when his spirits were low and the cocaine palled.

'Ha,' exclaimed Holmes impatiently, 'there is nothing for anyone there, Watson. But see what you can make of this.'

Whereupon the great detective retrieved a crumpled sheet of paper from the marmalade jar and flicked it neatly into my lap. 'A friend,' it read, 'who can be trusted as much as I trust any- one will sliortly be calling upon you on a matter of the most urgent importance. Burn this note.' It was signed 'H. W.'

`Clearly,' I said, 'the fellow is of a suspicious disposition.'

'Anything else?' inquired Holmes.

`Well,' I replied, 'from the • handwriting, and the quality of the paper, and the stains, I should deduce that the sender was a middle-aged, blue- eyed Yorkshireman, comfortably off, and with a taste for HP sauce.'

'Not bad,' chuckled Holmes, 'not bad at all. But you have missed the most vital clue.'

I confessed myself baffled.

The letter-head,' explained Holmes. 'It is marked "from the Prime Minister" and the address is No. 10 Downing Street. But here, if I am not very much mistaken, is the mysterious visitor to whom the note refers.'

The gentleman whom Mrs Hudson showed into our sitting-room was of somewhat above the middle height, with large ears and an agitated manner. I judged he was an old soldier who had knocked about the world a bit.

`My dear Sir,' said he, 'thank God you can help us.'

'I have promised nothing yet,' replied Holmes coldly. 'Pray compose yourself, Sir, and tell me what is on your mind.'

`Well, my dear Sir, it is like this,' responded our visitor. 'My friends in the Government have announced an inquiry into certain leakages of information from the Ministry of. Aviation but, try as we may, we can get nowhere in our in. vestigations. You are our last hope. Doubtless you are familiar with the bare facts of the rase: 'I only know what I read in the newspapers,'' replied Holmes, glumly indicating the pile of cut- tings from The Times, 'but your little problem is not without. its interesting features. I will do what I can.'

'Bless you, my dear Sir,' said our visitor, and with that took his leave, accompanied by a rain. Coated, bowler-hatted fellow who had been wait- ing on the landing outside.

'A pretty kettle of fish, and no mistake,' muted Holmes. 'How is your practice today?'

'Nothing of any importance,' I replied, 'except an outbreak of smallpox in the North Padding- ton area. I can easily get my locum to take over.'

'Capital,' said Holmes. 'And now, I think, a visit to the theatrical costumier is called for. Suitably disguised in dark grey flannel suits and brown suede shoes, we may, I believe, make a very passable pair of journalists.'

Thus attired, we made our way down White fiall.

'You, Watson,' instructed Holmes, 'will con- duct your inquiries at No. 10 Downing Street and at the Ministty of AViation. I myself shall go on to the lobby of the House of Commons.'

`But will they let you in, Holmes?,' said I, for I had heard something of the difficulty of out- siders gaining admisSion to those hallowed pre- cincts. , 'I do not anticipate any trouble,' answered Holmes with a smile. 'You may remember that 1 had occasion to be of some assistance.terthe Al- ters of 'the House. in the Case of theMin;qer's

Trousers.' • '

I indeed remembered that case, the' details of which, if prematurely released to the public, would shake the credit of the British govern- ment to its foundations.

Some hours later I returned to Baker Street. more than a little bemused by the difficulty of the case and the number of gin-and-tonics which had been thrust upon me during the course of the afternoon. Holmes was already seated in his favourite chair by the fire.

'Well,' said I, 'there is no doubt that the source of the leakage is a civil servant at the Ministry, but I cannot for the life -of me discover his

name.'

Holmes slapped his knee, causing a twinge in my old Ashanti wound.

`Dear old Watson,' said he, 'you have, as usual, missed every clue of any importance. You believe that the Ministry of Aviation under the luckless Mulley is responsible because that is what the Government wish you to believe.'

Just then thete was a tap at the door, and the page-boy entered with the evening papers. Holmes scanned them, and his face darkened.

'The fools,' he exclaimed. 'They have bungled things again. See, Watson, our birds have flown.'

And there, before my eyes, was an item headed 'Brown and Callaghan fly off to Con- ference.' Holmes's expression changed, as it sometimes did. _ 'Perhaps,' he mused, 'it is all for the best. Who are we to judge? And now, my dear fellow, let us take a turn down the Strand. I am told th the vegetables at Simpson's have improved of late.'