The Baker Street Boys - The Case of the Ranjipur Ruby by Anthony Read Page A

hardly breathing and not daring to blink an eye as the four men searched around them. Beaver developed a terrible itch on the end of his nose, but somehow he managed to resist the urge to scratch or even twitch it. Wiggins began to get cramp in one leg, but gritted his teeth and endured the growing pain. At last, after what seemed like hours of agony, they were relieved to hear the captain say that they must have escaped after all.
    But then there was a muffled sneeze. The captain and Uncle Sanjay stared at each other and then looked in the direction of the sneeze.
    “It was Queen Victoria,” Uncle Sanjay said incredulously. “Queen Victoria sneezed!”
    “Don’t be silly,” the captain retorted. “It’s a wax dummy.”
    “All the same…”
    And then there was a second sneeze. This time there could be no doubt as to where it came from. The two men circled the wax figure, regarding it curiously. Then the captain gave a snort, bent down and lifted the hem of the skirt.Rosie lay curled round the model’s legs on the floor, amid the dust that had got up her nose.
    “Well, well,” he said, grabbing her arm and hauling her out. “What have we here?”
    Rosie glowered at him but said nothing. He shook her, hard, then raised one fist.
    “Where are the others?” he snarled. “Tell me – or I’ll beat it out of you!”
    Seeing Rosie threatened in this way was too much for Beaver.
    “Leave her alone,” he shouted. “Take your hands off her!”
    Abandoning his pose as a waxwork, Beaver leapt out of the Australian scene and charged across at the captain. Wiggins followed suit. And Ravi, standing right under the captain’s nose, came to life and threw himself at him. Uncle Sanjay grabbed Ravi and barked a command to his two men, who dashed forward and seized Wiggins and Beaver, holding them in a tight grip.
    “You’ve been very clever,” the captain smirked at Wiggins. “But not quite clever enough. Now, hand over the ruby, if you please.”
    “Can’t,” Wiggins replied coolly. “I ain’t got it.”
    “What do you mean, you ‘ain’t’ got it?”
    “I mean I ain’t got it. I’ve hid it. Somewhere safe.”
    “Why, you cheeky young pup! I’ll teach you…”
    “Oh no, you won’t. Anything happens to me, and you’ll never find it.”
    “Brave talk, young man. But are you ready to watch your little friend suffer?”
    He drew back his hand again, ready to hit Rosie. “Now tell me, or else…”
    “WHAT’S GOING ON HERE?” a loud parade-ground voice roared. It was Sarge, who had just entered the gallery. “Stop that at once! Take your hands off that girl!”
    “Hah!” the captain sneered. “More brave talk. And from a man who has only one arm!”
    “I might have only one arm,” Sarge replied, advancing steadily down the gallery, “but you’ll find it’s a good ’un.” He paused to snatch a spear from the hand of a Zulu warrior, and pointed it at the men. “Let ’em go, or I’ll run you through.”
    Then he turned his head briefly to call back towards the entrance, “In here, Captain Watson! This way!” And through the entrance door cameDr Watson, with Queenie, Shiner and Gertie.
    “The game’s lost, Captain,” the doctor said. “Give yourself up like a gentleman.”
    “Never!” the captain cried. He turned to Uncle Sanjay. “Quick. The tunnel. We can escape that way.”
    “I think not,” said a steely new voice behind him. It was Sherlock Holmes, coming out of the storeroom wearing his famous deerstalker hat, followed by a stocky man in a tweed suit and cap.
    “Lord Holdhurst!” Captain Nicholson gulped.
    “You, sir, are a blackguard. A murdering blackguard,” His Lordship replied. He turned to Uncle Sanjay. “And so are you. Mr Holmes and I have just returned from Scotland, where you murdered your poor brother in cold blood.”
    “No!” said Uncle Sanjay.
    “Do not attempt to deny it,” Mr Holmes said. “I have proved your guilt quite conclusively. And I have no