# data[].attributes.body
- Cherry
- Jennifer
- Katie
- Tom
- Max
- Brian
Story: Sherlock Holmes and the speckled band.

# data[].attributes.body
- Nina (Phương Nghi)
- Tina (Hải Nghi)
- Emma (Như Ý)
- Danny 2 (Hải Đăng)
- Danny 1 (Tấn Dũng)
- Keith (Tuấn Kiệt)

# data[].attributes.body
- Erica ( Khánh Phương )
- Annabelle
- Đan
- Martin (Minh Khang)
- Ken ( Ten )
Story: Red Riding Hood but bad ending :D

# data[].attributes.body
Please write your name with your characters here please!

# data[].attributes.body
Write your name- character you want to act

# data[].attributes.body
- Dr. Watson ( Tom )
- Sherlock Holmes ( Max)
- Helen ( Jennifer )
- Helen's sister ( Cherry )
- Dr. Grimesby Roylott of Stoke Moran ( Katie )
- Driver ( Brian )
- Narrator: Max

# data[].attributes.body
Erica (Lê Ngọc Khánh Phương) - Narrator
Martin (Ngô Minh Khang) - Mother of Red Riding Hood
Annabelle (Phạm Wagner Annabelle Ly) - Red Riding Hood
Ken (Nguyễn Ten) - The Wolf
Dan (Nguyễn Bảo Đan) - Grandpa

Micheal the Leader (PHAN TRÍ DŨNG) - Making a PP

# data[].attributes.body
Early one morning in April 1883, as soon as I awoke, I saw Sherlock Holmes, well-dressed, standing by my bed. Normally, he wakes up late; which according to the clock it's only 7:15. I look up at him, a bit surprised. There was also a hint of frustration in my eyes, because I myself was used to getting up late.


 - I'm sorry I woke you up. - said Holmes


 - What is going on? Fire?


 - No, there's a client waiting. A young lady was panicking and imploring to see me. She is currently waiting in the living room. When young ladies dared to cross the city at dawn like this and dared to wake up strangers, they must have encountered something very disturbing. This case is probably very interesting, worth your note, so I am sure, you will want to follow it from the beginning. I thought I should wake him up, so he wouldn't miss a chance.


  - Oh, golden man, I can't afford to miss a chance, for any reason.


 I hurriedly dressed, and a few minutes later followed my friend down to the living room. The young lady in a black dress, her face hidden behind a small veil, was sitting by the window, and she quickly stood up when we entered.


 "Hello, ma'am," said Holmes cheerfully, "my name is Sherlock Holmes. And this is my friend, Dr. Watson. You can talk to him openly, as with myself. Well, I'm glad Mrs. Hudson was attentive to the fireplace crew. You ought to sit a little closer by the fireplace, and I beg your pardon to offer you a cup of hot coffee, for I see that you are shivering.


  "I'm not shivering because it's cold," the girl replied softly.


  - Then for what reason?


 - Out of fear, sir. For horror. - As she spoke, the girl lifted her veil, and we saw that she was in a state of utter terror. His face was pale and his eyes were full of terror, like the eyes of a hunted beast being surrounded. Outwardly, she was only in her thirties, but her hair was gray in some places, and her mannerisms revealed a languid and tired look. From the corner of his eye, Sherlock Holmes knew all about her.


 "Don't be afraid," he said, "we will help you get rid of all your troubles soon. I have no doubts. I know well that you just got here by train this morning.


  "So you knew me before I came here?"


 - No, but I see on your left glove the rest of your return ticket. She had to get up very early, and then had to sit huddled for a long time in a single-wheeler for a long, muddy road before going to the station.


  The girl was confused, staring at my friend.


 "There's nothing mysterious about it, my lady," he said with a smile, "the sleeve of your jacket is covered in mud, at least three places. Those stains are new. No other means of transport, except for the buggy, could splash so much mud on the passengers; especially when they sit on the left side of the coach.


 "You're quite right, whatever way you judge it," said the girl. I left the house at almost six o'clock, reached Leatherhead at 6:20 and took the first train to Waterloo station... Sir, I couldn't take it anymore. I will go crazy if this situation continues. I only have one person to ask for help, but that poor person is not much help. Therefore, I have come to your aid, Mr. Sherlock Holmes. Are you strong enough to help, at least shed some light on the terrifying mysteries that surround me on all sides?


  "Please tell us everything you can to help us imagine the situation that is frightening you."


 "The most terrible thing about my current situation is that my fears are very vague," replied the client. - My doubts are rooted in very small things, so much so that others may consider them nonsense. But I have heard rumors that only you, Mr. Sherlock Holmes, understand the wickedness of people's hearts; Only you can advise me on how to deal with the dangers that surround me.


  - I'm listening to you, ma'am.


 - My name is Helen Stoner. I am living with my stepfather. He was the last living member of one of England's oldest Saxons, the Roylotts of Stoke Moran, this westernmost bordering Surrey.


  Sherlock Holmes nodded.


  "I've heard a lot about that name," he said.


 - At one time, they were the richest family in England. Their domain, to the north, stretched across the border, as far as Berkshire, and to the west, as far as Hampshire. But by the end of the last century, all four generations were squandering and doing nothing. In the 1820s, what was left was all but a few acres and an old building, built two hundred years ago by a gambler. The last landowner of the family had to retreat to live in a certain house, living the miserable life of a poor nobleman. But his only son, who is now my stepfather, understood that he had to find a way to adjust to the new situation. He tried to get a doctor's degree, then set off for Calcutta. Here, thanks to his skill and patience, he soon gained the trust of many customers. But then his house was stolen, infuriated him, beat a local servant to death, and barely escaped his sentence of execution. After that incident, he spent a long time in prison, so when he was released he returned to England in a state of despair and pessimism.


 While working as a doctor in India, Dr. Roylott was married to my mother, Mrs. Stoner, a young widow, who was the wife of Major General Stoner, commander of the army in Bengal. Me and Jlia, my sister, are twin sisters. When my mother walked again, we were both 20 years old. My mother had a sizable sum of money, earning no less than a thousand pounds a year in income. She gave all the money to Dr. Roylott, because we still had to live with our stepfather, and told him to divide it between the two of us when we got married. My mother died shortly after our return to England: she died eight years ago in a train accident near Crewe.


 On that very day, Dr. Roylott immediately abandoned the idea of remaining in London to practice, and brought my sister and I to Stoke Moran, to live in the inherited house. The money left by my mother was more than enough to support all of our hobbies, and nothing seemed to stop us from living a happy life.


 But at that time, my stepfather's temperament suddenly changed. Instead of making friends and visiting neighbors, at first excited to see a Roylott returning to his hometown, he stayed home all day. He rarely went out, and when he went outside, he was always violent with anyone who encountered him on the way. The tendency to have aggressive anger has become an inherent habit of the Roylotts men. And in my stepfather's life, the defects increased, perhaps because he lived so long in the tropics. A series of bad scuffles broke out, two of which ended up at the police station. In the end, he became the terror of the whole village, and the people there rushed to avoid him, for he had extraordinary physical strength and was completely unable to control himself, when he had a temper tantrum. angry.


 His only friends were the wandering Gypsies; he let them set up tents on a small plot of land, an area of only a few acres[2] left by the family. He liked to wander here and there with them; absent from home once a week. He also liked Indian animals, sent there by acquaintances. Currently, he is raising a jaguar[3] and a baboon[4], freeing them day and night, regardless of where they want to go. Almost everyone in the village feared them as much as their owners.


 From what I have told you, you can easily imagine that poor Julia's life and I were not very happy. Not a single maid could bear to live in our house, so for a long time, my sister and I had to do all the household chores by our own hands. My sister died when she was only thirty years old, and her hair was as gray as mine.


  - So she passed away?


 - She passed away just two years ago. I was about to tell you about her death myself. You see, the life situation I have just described made us no longer like to associate with anyone of our age and status. My sister and I have a single, biological aunt, named Honoria Westphail, who lives on the side of Harrow, but we are rarely allowed to visit her for a few days. Two years ago, Julia went there for Christmas and met a Major in the Navy and got engaged to him. My uncle learned about it after Julia returned and showed no objection to the marriage, but two weeks before their planned wedding, Julia had a terrible event that took my friend away. unique feelings in the world.


 Sherlock Holmes had been leaning back in his chair, eyes closed, head resting on the pillow on the arm of the couch. Hearing that, he suddenly opened his eyes and looked the girl straight in the eye.


  "Tell me about it in detail," he said.


 "It was easy for me, because everything that happened at that terrible time is etched in my memory. The main building that my uncle inherited, as I have just mentioned, is very old, only one block is still livable. The floors of the bedrooms here are all clay; The living rooms occupy the center of the building. Of the other three bedrooms, the first room was for Dr. Roylott, the second was for my sister, and the last was for me. Neither room is connected to another; but all three had doors that opened onto the common corridor. I told you so, is it clear?


  - Very clear.


  "The windows of the three rooms all faced the lawn. On that terrible night, Dr. Roylott returned to his room very early, but we knew he was not asleep, because my sister must have been annoyed by the strong smell of Indian cigars. heavy weight that he was used to. So she left the room to my side, sat for a while, chatting about the upcoming wedding. At eleven o'clock she got up and left my room, but was out the door suddenly. stopped, looked behind me, then asked me:


  - Helen, late at night, do you ever hear someone whistling?


  "Never," I replied.


  - Who knows, maybe I can whistle when I'm asleep?


 - This can not be happen. But why do you ask?


 - Because the last few nights, around three o'clock in the morning, every night I hear a very soft and clear whistle. She was originally awake, so the noise woke her up. I couldn't tell from which side it was given. It could have been from the next room, or it could have come from the lawn. Yesterday, I was going to ask you if you heard.


 - No, I didn't listen. Probably the gypsies.


 - Maybe that's true. But if it's really coming from the lawn, why can't I hear it? Strange!


  - Oh, I sleep more soundly than you.


  "Well, it's all nonsense," she smiled, closed the door to my room, and a moment later I heard the key rattling in her lock.


 "So it is," said Sherlock Holmes. Do your sister and you always lock the door before going to bed?


  - Yes.


  - What happen?


 "I think I told you that my uncle kept a jaguar and a baboon. My sister and I only felt safe when we locked the door behind us.


 - I understand. Please tell me more.


 "That night, I could not sleep. I had a vague premonition that something bad was about to happen to me. The two of us, you must remember, were twins, and you must know, too, how closely brothers or twins are bound screaming suddenly rose up a wild howl of a woman in panic. There was a whistling sound, just as my sister had told me, and then a moment later there was the crash of a heavy metal object. When I ran to my sister's door was unlocked, the door was slowly swinging upwards. I was terrified, my eyes widened, I didn't know what was going to happen In the light of the chandelier in the hallway, I saw Julia appear from behind the door, her face white with terror. hands in front, asking for help Me, my whole body wobbled as if I was drunk. I rushed over and hugged her, but at that moment, her legs suddenly became weak and she fell to the ground. She writhed from an unbearable pain. At first, I thought she didn't recognize me; but when I bent down, she suddenly shouted in a voice I will remember for the rest of my life: “Oh my God, Helen! That ribbon! Speckled Ribbons!”. She even tried to say something else, pointing towards her stepfather's room, but another convulsion hit her, leaving her speechless. As I stood up, I called out to my stepfather loudly, and saw him hurrying out of the room. He was also wearing a loose nightgown. When he came running, my sister was already unconscious. He poured brandy into my sister's mouth, sent someone to call the village doctor, but all efforts to save my sister were in vain. She gradually fainted, then stopped breathing, could no longer wake up. My dear sister died in such a horrible way."


 "May I ask you a question," said Sherlock Holmes. "Are you sure you heard the whistle and the fall of a heavy metal object?" Can you swear you didn't mishear?


 - I feel like I'm not wrong at all. But anyway, I can't say for sure, because the wind was howling outside and the old house was making all sorts of noises in the midst of heavy rain and wind.


  - Was your sister properly dressed at that time?


 - Are not! Only the nightgown on the body. In the right hand is holding a lit match, and in the left hand - a matchbox.


 - That means she lit a match to see if there was something that scared her. That detail is very important. So what did the judge conclude when he came to investigate?


 "He looks at the matter very carefully, for Dr. Roylott has long been a suspect. But he could not find any solid evidence of the cause of death. The door to the room was locked from the inside. Outside the window, there is one more time a wooden door is mounted on large iron bars to prevent crooks. Moreover, every night, the bolts are carefully bolted. I also took him to see the walls: all are still very strong. The floor was also thoroughly examined, but there were still no signs of suspicion. Although the fireplace chimney is wide, it cannot pass through. So, surely when that tragic accident happened, my sister was alone in the room.


  - What about the possibility of being poisoned?


  - The doctors also performed an autopsy, but did not get any results.


  - So, in your opinion, what caused your unfortunate sister to die so tragically?


  "I believe she was just so terrified and traumatized, though I can't imagine what made her so scared."


  - Were the gypsies present on the farm that day?


  - Yes, they are almost always near the farm.


  "Hey, so what do you think of the ribbon, the speckled ribbon, that your sister mentioned?"


 - There were times when I thought those were just meaningless words in my sister's delirium; but there was a time when I thought maybe my sister was referring to some kind of gang, probably to the gypsies, maybe the colorful garb that the gypsies wear that made her say those two strange words "speckled"[6].


  Holmes shook his head as if he was not satisfied at all.


 - There's something else out there! - He said - Please tell me more.


 "Two years have passed since that day, and my life has become more isolated and lonely than ever. But last month, a close friend that I have known for many years asked me to marry her. His name is Armitage. called a mechanic to fix the left side of the house on the west side They broke down the wall of my bedroom, so I had to move into the room where my sister passed away, sleeping in the same bed she used to be Last night, I lay down and could not sleep, thinking about my sister's tragic death. Then, can you imagine my horror? late at night the soft whistling sound my sister had heard herself before she died I got up immediately, lit the lamp, but there was nothing in the room I was so frightened that I couldn't go to bed Continue to sleep, have to get dressed, sit and wait. Seeing that it was just morning, I quickly set out to meet him immediately, to ask for his help."


 - You behaved very wisely. - said my friend - but have you told them all?


  - Sir, it's over.


 - Not yet, Miss Roylott. You're covering for your stepfather.


 - What's that? What do you mean?


 Instead of answering, Holmes pulled up her client's sleeve. Five bruises, marks of five fingers, were prominent on the girl's white wrist.


 - You were treated so badly by him! Holmes said.


  The girl blushed and quickly pulled down her sleeve to cover her bruised wrist.


  "He's a brute," she said, as powerful as a protector, and must have been unable to measure his full strength.


 The three of us sat in silence for a long time. Holmes rested his chin on his hands and stared at the fire burning in the furnace.


  Only later did he say:


 - This is a mystery. There are hundreds of details I want to know before deciding on the course of action. Let's not waste time. Can you help us get back to Stoke Moran today, so we can take a closer look at those rooms, without your uncle noticing, okay?


 - It's OK. Because he said he had to go to London today to arrange some very important business. He'll probably be away all day, so no one will stop you.


 - Great! Then we will both come. And you, do you have to arrange anything else for yourself?


  - I have some urgent things to do here, but I will be back by the 12 o'clock train, so I will still be at home to receive you two.


 - Then you should wait for us after twelve noon. I also have some errands to take care of. Would you mind staying and having breakfast with us?


 - Oh no, I have to hurry. Hope to see you again this afternoon - the girl dropped her black veil, and left the room.


 - What do you think about this case, Watson? asked Sherlock Holmes, leaning back in his chair.


  - I feel this is a mysterious case, possibly containing a malicious crime.


  - It's really dangerous, but it's also really poisonous.


 - The girl said that the floor, wall and wall are still very strong; Since no one could break in through the doors, windows, and chimneys, it was clear that the sister was alone in the room when the mysterious death struck.


  - Then how to explain the whistling in the middle of the night, and the strange words she uttered before she died?


  - I can't think of it.


 "You should think twice about the late-night whistle and the band of Gypsies that the old doctor harbors in his territory." I also have reason to believe that he is very interested in preventing his ex-wife's daughter from getting married. Furthermore, there is also the mention of the tape by the older sister, and finally, the episode where Miss Helen Stoner heard the sound of a heavy metal object falling. That sound is most likely caused by an iron bar attached to the screen door outside the window, when it bounced back into its original position. All these details, in my opinion, can help us to explain the case. .


  "But if so, what do the Gypsies have to do with it?"


  - I can't imagine.


  - I see too many things against the theory you just put forward.


 - I think so. It is for that reason that today we must go to the place, to Stoke Moran. I wanted to know if the counter-evidence was strong, or at least to understand things better. Oh, what the hell is going to happen again?


 The door to the room opened, and a tall, muscular man appeared. He was so tall that his hat almost touched the top bar of the doorframe, and so wide that it took up most of the width of the door. His face was large, wrinkled, sun-tanned and deeply imprinted with the vestiges of all manner of demonic desires. He darted his eyes to the two of us, and his sunken eyes and hooked nose made him look like a ferocious old magpie.


 "Which one of you is Holmes, huh?" - asked the old man


  "Here I am, sir," said my friend calmly.


  - I am Dr. Grimesby Roylott of Stoke Moran.


  "My pleasure," said Holmes. "Have a seat, Doctor.


 I don't want to sit with you. My wife's daughter just got here. I have tracked it down. What did it sing to you guys, huh?


  "It's unseasonably cold," said Holmes.


  "What did it sing to you?" he hissed, his voice angry.


  "But I heard flowers will still be in season," my friend continued.


 - Oh, you're going to play the drums, aren't you? - said the guest, taking a step forward. - I'm not strange to you. I heard your name a long time ago. I'm Holmes, a guy who interferes in other people's affairs.


  Holmes smiled smugly.


 - Talking with him was interesting. - I said. - When you get out of here, please close the door for me, because this room is often drafty.


 "I'll only get out of here until I've said everything I need to tell you." Don't risk meddling in my affairs. I know the Stoner has come here, I've tracked him! I am a dangerous person! Look here.


  He walked briskly toward the fireplace, picked up a coal sledgehammer, and bent it with his tanned guardian hands.


  "Spirit, don't let it fall into my hands," he growled, throwing the coal poker into the furnace, and then left.


 "What a lovely man," said Holmes, laughing. "If he had stayed, I could have shown him that my hand wouldn't be much weaker than his." Before he finished speaking, he picked up the iron rod to pick up the coal, then straightened it and straightened it.


 - Mr. Watson, now I will order breakfast; After that, I went away for a while, hoping to gather some information that might help us in this case.


 About one o'clock in the afternoon, Sherlock Holmes returned. He held in his hand a blue sheet of paper, full of notes and drawings and numbers.


 "I have seen with my own eyes the will of the deceased wife," he said. "The total income is about 750 pounds. Each girl has the right to claim £250 of income when they get married. Thus, if both girls get married, the old doctor will only get a small amount of money; Even if only one girl returned to her husband's house, the old man had suffered a considerable loss. My work this morning was not in vain, for it showed that he had enough very serious reasons to find ways to prevent the marriage of two girls. And now, if you're ready, we'll call a car to Waterloo station. I'd be very grateful, if you'd put your shotgun in your pocket. Gun and toothbrush too, I think we just need those two.


 At Waterloo, we boarded the train to Leatherhead, then rented a carriage at an inn near the station. We boarded the carriage, and traversed for about four or five miles the spectacular village roads of Surrey. That day the weather was beautiful, the sun was shining, the sky was a little cloudy, the air was full of the smell of damp earth. I felt a strange contrast between the sweet signs that promised a beautiful spring and the terrible work we were pursuing. My friend sat in the front, immersed in contemplation, our arms crossed over our chest, hat pulled down to our eyes, chin pressed to chest. But suddenly he patted me on the shoulder, pointing at the fields.


 - Look! I said.


 A luxuriant garden stretches across a gentle hillside. Among the leafy trees rose the tall roof of a dilapidated old building.


 - Stoke Moran, right? - he asked.


 "Yes, sir, that is the residence of Dr. Grimesby Roylott," replied the coachman, "it will save you more time, if you take a shortcut across the field. There's a lady going over there.


  "I think it must have been Miss Stoner," Holmes conjectured.


  We alighted, paid, and the carriage rattled back to Leatherhead.


  "Hello, Miss Stoner," said Holmes.


  Our client rushed over to meet us with a happy face.


 "I really want you two," she exclaimed, squeezing our hands tenderly. Dr. Roylott has gone to London and is unlikely to return before tonight.


 "We've had the pleasure of seeing the doctor," said Holmes, and he briefly recounted what had happened. Miss Stoner turned pale when she heard about it.


 - Oh my God! - she exclaimed. - So he followed my footsteps.


  - Probably.


 "He's so cunning that I don't know when I'll be safe." Did he say when he'll be back?


 "He must have been careful, for perhaps he understood that he had met on the way a man more clever than himself." Tonight, she had to lock the door to avoid him. If he's up to anything, we'll send you to Harrow, to stay with your aunt. For now, we must make the most of the opportunity, so please take us to the rooms that we must examine closely.


 The building is built of gray stone; the middle part is high, and the two wings are curved. The window frames on one side of the wing were broken, so they had to be covered with wooden slats. The tile on the cool fell off in many places. A scene of crumbling walls lay before our eyes. The middle part of the house is much better; but the most modern is still the right block. The curtains on the window frames and the smoke rising from the fireplaces suggest that the whole family now lives in this part. Holmes paced the lawn, peering out the windows.


 - I guess this window is the bedroom door you used before; the one in the middle is your sister's room, and the one next to the building is Dr. Roylott's room, isn't it, ma'am?


 - Yes it is. But now I have to sleep in the middle room.


 - Only temporarily during the repair, if I'm not mistaken. Well, it's always convenient to ask: it seems that there is no need to repair it so urgently. Because I see the wall at the top of the house is still very strong.


 - Right. I'm sure it was just an excuse to force me to move rooms.


 - Ah! That might be true. Now, inside this narrow gable there's a corridor that all three bedrooms have access to, isn't it? There must be a window on that side, right?


 - Yes, but very small. So small that no one could get through.


 "So from that point on, no one can get into your sister's room, if you lock the door every night." Now, please go to your room and close the doors.


  Miss Stoner did as Holmes said, and he tried every possible way to open the barricade, but to no avail.


 - Hmm! - He said - My first hypothesis is thus rejected. No one can get through this way, if the gates are fastened. Okay, now let's try to go inside, see if we can find anything new.


 A small door on the side led into a corridor through which the doors of the three bedrooms all opened. we entered the second room, which is now Miss Stoner's bedroom and where her sister had been in trouble. It was a small, comfortable room with a low ceiling and a large fireplace. A brown wooden wardrobe for clothes, with drawers, is placed in a corner of the room; and in the other corner was a narrow white bed and a small table to the left of the window. All of the above and the two chairs are all furniture in the room, not to mention the carpet in the middle of the floor. Holmes put a chair in the corner of the room, sat down in silence, and looked around the whole room, not missing a single detail.


  "Where does this bell rope go?" he said only later, pointing to a large bell-pulling rope that hung down close to the head of the bed.


  - Connected to the housekeeper's room.


  - Looks newer than everything in the room.


 - Yes. Just installed a few years ago.


  - Is your sister asking for money?


 - No, I never saw my sister ring the bell. We do everything ourselves, because we don't have servants at home.


  - Excuse me for a few minutes, I want to take a closer look at the floor of the room.


 He crawled back and forth, scrutinizing every groove in the floorboards. Finally, he went to the side of the bed, stared for a moment, then looked again at the wall from top to bottom, then from bottom to top. Then, he grabbed the bell rope and pulled it hard.


 - Why didn't the bell ring? It wasn't even connected to the steel wire that pulled the bell. Strange! Look, the rope was even tied to an iron hook just above the air vent.


 - It's absurd! But I haven't noticed for a long time.


 - Very strange! Holmes mumbled, tugging at the rope. This room has some very odd features. For example, the builder must have been crazy enough to open the vent to the next room; he could have come out; It only takes so much work.


  "This was also done recently," said the lady


  "Probably at the same time as the bell-rope," remarked Holmes.


  - Yes, there have been some small changes in the house lately.


  "Miss Stoner, would you mind letting us take a look at the doctor's room?"


 Dr. Roylott's room was larger than his first wife's two stepchildren, but the furniture was very simple. There was only a bed, a small wooden bookshelf, an armchair by the bed, a small wooden bookshelf, an armchair by the bed, a folding chair against the wall, a round table and a large iron cabinet. Holmes walked leisurely around the room, examining each piece of furniture with great care.


 - What does this cabinet hold? Holmes asked, knocking on the safe.


  - Business papers of my stepfather.


  - Oh, so you had a chance to look inside?


 - Only once, a few years ago. I remember the cupboard was full of papers.


 - Did he keep anything in there? Like a cat.


  - No, what are you asking?


 - Well, look here! - He picked up a small plate lined with milk, and placed it on the top of the cabinet.


 - No, we don't have cats. But there is a jaguar and a baboon.


 Oh yes. Of course! The jaguar is just a big cat. But I think this small plate of milk is difficult to provide for that animal. There is one more point I want to make clear - He took out a magnifying glass and looked at the surface of the wooden chair, examining the surface of the chair very carefully.


 - Thank you. That's it, he said, standing up, putting his magnifying glass back in his pocket. Rub! This dish is interesting!


 The thing that caught his attention was the small whip, hanging on the corner of the bed. However, the whip was bent at the end, then tied into a circle.


  - Watson, what do you think of this?


 - It's just a normal whip. The thing is I don't understand why the loop is tied at the end.


 - It's not normal, can't you see? I think I'm done with it, Miss Stoner. It is very important that from now on, you must do exactly what I advise you to do. This case is so serious, we can't wait a minute longer. Your life depends on you.


  - I entrust it all to you.


  "First of all, we both have to stay in your room tonight. Both I and Miss Stoner stared at him in astonishment.


 - Yes, that's how it should be. Let me explain. Maybe over there is the inn of this area?


  - Yes, it's the Crown Inn.


 - Very good. From there, can you see the window of her room?


  - Can you see it?


 - When your stepfather comes back, you can't leave the room, using the excuse that you have a headache. When you hear him getting ready for bed, open the window and put a lamp on the ledge to warn us. When she was done, she carried everything she needed to her old room. I'm sure that, even though it's being repaired, you can still spend the night there.


  Yes, it's not that difficult.


  - Leave the rest to us.


  - But what will you do?


  - We will sit by your new room to find out the cause of the noises that have been bothering you.


  "Mr. Holmes, I believe you have reached a conclusion," said Miss Stoner, placing her hand on my friend's sleeve.


  - Maybe you're right.


  - Then please tell me why my sister died.


  - Before I tell you, I want more obvious evidence.


  "Can you at least tell me if my assumption is correct: my sister died of panic so suddenly?"


 - Oh no, I don't think so. I think there is a much more specific cause. For now, we must say good-bye, for if Dr. Roylott comes back and finds us here, it will be a waste of time to move. Goodbye, you have courage! If you do exactly what I tell you, you can trust that we will soon eliminate the dangers that are lurking in front of you.


 Sherlok Holmes and I rented a bedroom and a living room at the Crown Inn. Both were on the top floor, so we could clearly see the row of houses being used on the Stoke Moran farm. At dusk we saw the carriage carrying Dr. Grimesby Roylott pass by the window of the motel room. The old man looked taller and taller next to the small coachman. At the gate, the driver struggled for a while before opening the two crutch iron gates, and we heard Dr. Roylott's hoarse voice growl, while he angrily waved his fists in front of the coachman's nose. The carriage passed through the gate, and a moment later we saw in the midst of the trees a new light flickered in one of the parlors of the old man's house.


  "Actually, Watson, I'm not sure if I should take you with me tonight," said Holmes, as we sat together in the dark. "It must be very dangerous!"


  - Can I be of any help to you?


  - Having you along is very precious.


  - Then I will definitely go with you.


  - Thank you, you're so nice.


 - You mentioned danger. Surely you've discovered more in those rooms than I have.


 - No, I think I can only draw more conclusions than you. I assume you saw what I saw too.


 "I can't find anything remarkable, except for the bell-rope. I can't imagine what that rope was used for.


  - Did you see the ventilation hole too?


 - Yes. But I don't think it's strange that there is a small gap between the two rooms. It's so small that even a mouse can't get through.


  "I knew we'd find that vent before we even got to Stoke Moran."


  "That's a bit too much, dear Holmes.


 - Oh, that's right. Don't you remember Miss Stoner said her sister once smelled old Doctor Roylott's cigar smoke? That shows right away that between the two rooms there must be a way to each other. Only that passage had to be very small, or the magistrate would have noticed. I draw the conclusion: it's just a ventilation hole.


  - But what's the harm in arguing that loss?


 "Oh, at least there's a remarkable coincidence of things: a vent hole was made just above the head of the bed, a bell-string was hung up, and the girl slept on the bed." the other died. Don't you find that coincidence odd?


  - I still don't see how those things have anything to do with each other.


  "So you don't see anything strange in that bed?"


  - Are not.


 - The foot of the bed is firmly attached to the floor. Have you ever seen a bed like that?


  - Probably never.


 - The girl couldn't move the bed. It is always fixed under the vent and the rope. We can call it just a rope, because it is not hung to ring a bell.


 "Mr Holmes," I exclaimed, "I now dimly understand what you mean. So we were there just in time to stop a terrible crime.


 Yeah, pretty awful. But we'll have to taste all the horrors before tonight is over. So let's enjoy these pipes calmly and think of something more fun for a few hours,


 At about nine o'clock in the evening, the lights between the trees went out, and the whole farm fell into darkness. Two more hours go by slowly


  past, then suddenly a lone light flashed ahead.


  "That's our cue," said Holmes, and rose to his feet, "the light came from the middle window.


 Moments later, we were down the street. It was dark, the cold wind fanned my face. The yellow light ahead to light our way in the dark night. We wriggled between the trees, reached the lawn, and then crossed it. Just as we were about to climb through the window, from within the nearby bushes came a monster resembling a deformed child. It threw itself to the ground, rested on four bent legs, and then darted across the lawn, disappearing into the darkness.


 - Oh my God! - I whispered to Holmes. - Did you see anything?


 For about a minute Holmes was as frightened as I was. Then he smiled softly and whispered in my ear:


 - What a lovely property. That baboon.


 I had forgotten about the evil doctor's weird "cattle". To be honest, I felt relieved, as I followed Holmes' example, took off my shoes, and climbed through the window into the room. My friend quietly closed the door, put the lamp on the table, and looked around the room.


 Everything is still the same as it was in the afternoon. Then he crept closer to me, whispering in my ear, his voice so low that it was hard to hear every word:


  - Even the slightest noise can destroy our plans.


  I nodded to let Holmes know I heard.


 - We have to turn off the lights now. He could detect the light through the vent up there.


  I nodded again.


 - Remember not to fall asleep. His life depends on it. Prepare the gun so that when needed, we can take action. I will sit at the edge of the bed; And you, please sit down on that chair for a while.


  I took out my shotgun and put it on the corner of the table.


 Holmes carried a long, slender cane. He placed it on the bed, close at hand. Next to it, he placed a matchbox and a candle; When it was over, he turned off the light, and we sat in silence in the dark.


 I will never forget that terrible sleepless night! I couldn't hear a sound, not even breathing. I know my friend is sitting a few feet away from me, eyes wide open and in the same nervous state as I am. The door blocked out all light, we sat in the dense shadow. Outside from time to time echoes the sound of nocturnal birds; and there was once a long howl like a cat's: the jaguar must have been released. From afar came the sound of the church bells telling the time: every fifteen minutes, a deep low sound was released. Oh, those fifteen minutes are so long! The clock struck twelve, one o'clock, two o'clock, then three o'clock..., and we sat in silence waiting to see what would happen.


 Suddenly there was a flash of fire from the other side of the vent, and then it disappeared. Then the smell of burning oil and the smell of burnt iron came over. Someone in the next room lit a light. I heard a very faint mobile sound, and then all was quiet again, although the smell of burning was getting stronger and stronger. For half an hour I strained my ears to listen. Then suddenly I heard another noise, very soft, like steam coming out of a kettle. At the very moment I heard the sound, Holmes jumped to his feet, struck a match, and furiously flung his staff at the bell-rope.


 - Did you see it, Watson? - he hissed - Did you see it?


 But I didn't see anything. As Holmes struck the match, I heard a soft, but clear whistle. However, the light at the end of the match suddenly flashed into my weary eyes, making it impossible for me to tell exactly what my friend was doing. pound on something. However, I could clearly see his face as pale as a corpse and full of terror. He paused, stared up at the vent, and in the silence of the night came a terrifying howl I had never heard before. The howl grew louder, a hoarse howl, filled with pain, fear, and fury. I stood staring at Holmes, and he looked at me, until the last echoes of that howl were drowned in the silence of the night as before.


 - What does it mean? - I gasped.


 "That means it's over," replied Holmes, "and that's the best ending, after all. You pick up the gun, we're going to Dr. Roylott's room.


 With a dignified expression, he lit the lamp and stepped out into the hallway. I walked past him in the morning of the next room. He knocked twice, but inside there was no answer. He twisted his fist, then entered the room. I followed, gun in hand.


 A strange wall scene caught our eyes. On the table was a lamp, which cast a harsh light on the cupboard next to the open door. Sitting on the wooden chair next to it was Dr. Grimesby Roylott in a gray robe; and slung across his lap is the whip we noticed this afternoon. His chin was upturned, and his eyes were fixed on a corner of the ceiling: a motionless look of horror. Around his head was a strange yellow bandage, dotted with dark brown spots. When we entered, he remained silent and motionless.


 - Ribbons! Speckled ribbons! ' exclaimed Holmes softly.


 I took a step forward. In that instant, the ribbon began to move. From Dr. Roylott's hair rose a jagged head and straight neck of a hideous snake.


 - It's a poisonous swamp snake! - cried Holmes, - More poisonous than any breed in India. He died ten seconds after being bitten by a snake. Put the poison rattlesnake in the safe first, and then take Miss Stoner to a safe place; Then go to the local police station.


 He said as he quickly pulled out the whip from the doctor's lap. He put the tip of the whip around the snake's neck, tied it, then locked the snake in the closet and closed it.


 That is the true story of the death of Dr. Grimesby Roylott of Stoke Moran. On the way home the next morning, Holmes elaborated on the rest of the things that I did not know about the case.


 "Initially, I came to the wrong conclusion," he said. That shows, dear Watson, how dangerous it is to reason without enough information. Undoubtedly, it was the poor girl who used the ribbon to describe what she saw by the light of the match and the presence of the Gypsies on the farm - both of which suggested I had a completely wrong idea in my head. But I immediately dismissed that hypothesis when I understood that no danger could threaten her from the windows and doors. My thoughts quickly went to the ventilation hole and the bell-rope hanging over the headboard, as I've already noted to you. I also discovered that the wire was a fake and the bed. fastened to the flooring. Those details made me think right away; The other wire is just a bridge, helping an object go from the vent to the bed.


 I guess it must be a snake, because I know the old doctor has received some animals sent from India. I feel like I have found a clue. Then I thought of whistling. Of course, he had to call the snake back before dawn, so as not to be discovered by the victim.


 He trained it probably with the milk dish we saw, when he heard the whistle he called. He only let it climb through the vent at the right time, and knew that it would crawl down to the headboard of the bed by the rope. The snake may bite the person sleeping in the bed, but it may not. Night and night, the girl was able to escape death for a week, but sooner or later she was bitten by it.


 I had come to those conclusions before setting foot in the old man's room. When I looked at the surface of the chair, I saw that he often stood on it. He had to, because he couldn't reach the vent hole in the ceiling. The safe, the milk dish, and the whip were enough to dispel the doubts that lingered in my mind. The loud sound of a metal object, which Miss Stoner heard, was clearly caused by the stepfather: he needed to slam the iron door shut to keep the fearsome pet in. Having reached those conclusions, I proceeded with the proof, but you see. When I heard very soft noises that I think you could hear yourself, I immediately lit a lamp and attacked the animal."


  - as a result, he chased it back to the vent.


 And in the same way, I sent it back to the owner sitting in the next room. Beaten up, the snake hit a stick several times, it got angry and attacked the first person it encountered on the way back. And for that, there is no doubt that I am indirectly responsible for the death of Dr. Grimesby Roylott. But it certainly doesn't weigh heavily on my conscience.


End