Adventures of Sherlock Holmes
He’s perhaps the most famous character and the greatest detective in the world – and he’s you! You search for evidence. You follow the clues. You experience the danger. Do you have what it takes to solve three of the most puzzling Sherlock Holmes cases? Or will the villainous plots lead to your doom? Step into this adventure, and choose your path. But choose wisely, or else! Interactive books for kids are more popular than ever. Create your own adventure with the Can You Survive? book series for boys and girls.
- Download ebook for Kindle device
- Download ebook for other eReader device (iPad, Kobo, Nook, etc.)
- Read except below
It is a beautiful summer in London, England. The year is 1890. You are Sherlock Holmes, Consulting Detective.
Dr. John H. Watson stands with you. He has been your trusted assistant for years. Before that, he served as a doctor in the British military. He is shorter and rounder than you, and his skills in the art of deduction are lacking. But he is a good man, and he has saved your life on many occasions.
On this day, you find yourself in a room at the Crown Inn, working on a case. From your window, you can view Stoke Moran Manor House—the home of Dr. Grimesby Roylott, a suspected murderer. It is a home you inspected just this afternoon.
At dusk you see Dr. Roylott drive past. A few minutes later, you see a light spring up among the trees as the lamp is lit in one of the sitting rooms.
“Do you know, Watson,” you say. “I question taking you tonight. There is a distinct element of danger.”
“Can I be of assistance?”
“Your presence might be invaluable.”
“Then I shall certainly come.”
“It is very kind of you.”
“You speak of danger,” says Watson. “You have seen more in these rooms than was visible to me.”
“No, but I may have deduced a little more. I imagine you saw all that I did.”
“I saw nothing remarkable but the bell-rope. I can not imagine its purpose.”
“You saw the ventilator, too?”
“Yes, but I do not think that it is unusual to have a small opening between two rooms. It was so small that a rat could hardly pass through. What harm can there be in that?”
“Well, there is at least a curious coincidence of dates. A ventilator is made, a cord is hung, and a lady who sleeps in the bed dies. Doesn’t that strike you?”
“I cannot as yet see any connection.”
“Did you observe anything peculiar about that bed?”
“It was clamped to the floor. The lady could not move her bed. It must always be near the ventilator and the rope.” You pause for a moment, then add, “When a doctor goes wrong he is the best of criminals. He has nerve, and he has knowledge. We shall see horrors before the night is over.”
At about nine o’clock, the last light among the trees is extinguished, and all is dark in the direction of the Manor House.
Two hours pass slowly away. Then suddenly, just at the stroke of eleven, a single bright light shines out right in front of you.
“That is our signal,” you say, springing to your feet.
A moment later, you are out on the dark road, a chill wind blowing in your face. There is no difficulty in entering the grounds, for you find a large hole in the gate. You make your way among the trees. You reach the lawn and cross it. You are about to enter through the window.
Suddenly, a hideous and distorted person darts out from a clump of bushes. He throws himself upon the grass and then runs swiftly across the lawn into the darkness.
“Did you see it?” whispers Watson.
You are startled. Your hand closes upon Watson’s left wrist.
Could this be the criminal you seek? Is this the monster behind Dr. Roylott’s evil plan? Or does it have nothing to do with his scheme? Should you follow the shadowy figure? Or should you continue inside? The right choice may lead to a solution; the wrong choice could end in disaster. What will you choose to do?
Follow that person.
Sneak inside the mansion.
Follow that person.
“I believe the answers to our questions lie with that man,” you whisper.
As quietly as possible, you and Watson hurry across the lawn in pursuit of the shadowy figure. He enters the thick woods, and you follow cautiously. The darkness of the forest closes around you. You travel deeper into the woods. Thorns tear at your cloak, and roots reach up to trip you. The figure always stays just ahead.
At last your quarry stops, looking this way and that. Carefully, you draw closer. A shaft of moonlight pierces through the moving leaves, and you gasp. The figure you have been chasing is not a man at all. Dr. Roylott’s baboon stares back at you. It screeches in terror and takes off into the trees.
A twig snaps behind you. You and Watson turn slowly. Too late, you remember that the baboon is not the only animal to roam the grounds. The last sights you see are the fearsome fangs of a hungry cheetah. There is a sharp pain. A terror-filled cry. Then everything fades to nothingness.
Sneak inside the mansion.
You break into a low laugh. “That is the baboon,” you murmur to your friend.
You slip off your shoes and climb into the bedroom. You noiselessly close the shutters, move the lamp onto the table, and cast your eyes round the room. All is as you had seen it in the daytime.
You creep up to Watson and whisper, “The least sound would be fatal to our plans. We must sit without light. He would see it through the ventilator.”
“Do not go asleep,” you add. “Your very life may depend upon it. I will sit on the side of the bed, and you in that chair. Remain perfectly alert.”
You place your weapon upon the bed beside you, along with a box of matches and the stump of a candle. Then you turn down the lamp and are left in darkness. You cannot hear a sound, not even the drawing of a breath. You rest in a state of nervous tension.
From outside comes the occasional cry of a night-bird. Once, at your window, a long catlike whine tells you that the cheetah is roaming. The clock strikes twelve and one and two and three. Still you sit, waiting.
Suddenly, there is the gleam of a light up in the ventilator. It vanishes but is followed by a strong smell of burning oil and heated metal. Someone in the next room has lit a dark-lantern. You hear a gentle sound of movement, and then all is silent once more.
For half an hour you sit with straining ears. Then another sound becomes audible: a gentle, soothing sound, like a small jet of steam escaping from a kettle. The instant you hear it, you spring from the bed, strike a match, and grab your weapon.