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wide blue eyes had a dreamy quality as though he had
just awakened.
    I rose to my feet
hurriedly and noted that Holmes was regarding our unusual visitor
with a surprised look as if wondering if the body was real and not
carved by a woodworker using Gog and Magog as models.
    "This 'ere's Tiny,"
said Burlington Bertie.
    "I see,"
replied Holmes. I admired his sangfroid.
    "Do be seated,
gentlemen."
    The humor of Lambeth and
Limehouse, Chelsea and Croydon, is of a simple nature. How could this
gargantuan be named anything but "Tiny"? I watched his
progress into the room with alarm, trusting that our furniture would
survive. Holmes directed traffic in such a manner that Tiny was
aimed at our largest chair by the fire.
    "Tiny don't say
much but 'e's a good lad."
    "Quite,"
replied Holmes. "I can see that he would not need many words."
    The movements of the
good lad fascinated me. They were delicate, as though he trod on eggs
and maneuvered in a doll's house. Of course, I thought, the poor chap
has to be careful. An inadvertent gesture and he's liable to push
down a wall!
    Tiny lowered himself
into his designated chair in so fluid a manner that there was not
even a creak. He sat with his hands placidly folded in his lap, his
face slowly moving between Holmes, Bertie, and myself with interest,
and his smile never wavered.
    "You said there
might be some business, Mr. 'Olmes, so I brung the boy along to see
if 'e'll pass muster."
    "He'll do just
fine," replied my friend.
    Tiny was obviously
listening and capable of understanding, for he started to rise
but was forestalled by a gesture from his companion.
    "There's more yet."
    As the giant resumed his
seat, Bertie turned again to Holmes. "Loik I says to yer
earlier, Mr. 'Olmes, there's not a sign of that third bloke wot I
caved in on the docks when I hies meself back there t'other night."
    "You mentioned
pursuing some leads," replied the sleuth, who had managed to
drag his eyes away from Tiny.
    "I 'ad in mind
Blind Louie, the beggar. 'E lives not far from the docks and wot 'e
don't see ain't worth viewin'." As though this required
additional verification, Bertie turned towards me. "Sharpest
eyes between 'ere and Land's End, Doctor."
    "Blind Louie?"
    "At's roight. Oi
'ad me a good idea for Blind Louie was comin' 'ome 'bout the time of
the fracas wot 'e seen. 'E's got the end of that white cane of 'is
weighted and was goin' ter lend a 'and but 'e sees me and the late
Negro 'ad got things under control. Anyways, after I leaves, Blind
Louie is thinkin' 'bout gettin' on the dock to see if the cove I
coshed ain't got a few pence wot 'e don't need, but Louie is
cautious, 'e is, and a good fing, fer some Chinks comes by and picks
up the body, and carts 'im away. Now Louie don't know 'oo the Chinks
is but 'e figgers maybe the boyo I coshed is Sidney Putz."
    Holmes shook his head,
disclaiming knowledge of this sinister citizen.
    "Me, neither, Mr.
'Olmes, but Louie says Putz used to work fer Weisman, the usurer. And
'at's all I could dig up."
    "A good job,
Bertie." My friend was crossing to the desk again as he spoke.
"We'll see if we can learn more of Sidney Putz. Meanwhile,
I am expecting some action and I want you and Tiny to be on call."
Holmes secured more notes from the cash drawer and passed them to
Bertie. "I don't know what is involved, but I'll get a message
to you at the usual place."
    "Right-o, Mr.
'Olmes. Wotever the caper, you just do the thinkin' and Tiny and me,
we'll make out."
    "Of that I'm sure,"
stated Holmes with deep-seated conviction.
    Fascinated, we both
watched Bertie and Tiny depart.
    I sank back in my chair
and mopped my forehead with Irish linen. "Really, Holmes, life
is never dull at 221B Baker Street."
    "How fortunate for
us. Keeps us young, you know."
    He did have the good
grace not to let the matter drop at that.
    "As you gathered, I
spoke to Bertie earlier. Almost as an afterthought, I recalled those
two giant Manchurians we came in contact with once before.

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