Chapter 1: A Strange Advertisement

After my marriage, I lived with my wife in another part of London. My friend, Sherlock Holmes, continued to live in his apartment in Baker Street. One day, in the autumn of 1890, I decided to visit my friend. But when I arrived at his apartment, I found he already had a visitor.
This visitor was an old man. He was fat, with a red face. But the most unusual thing about him was his hair. The colour of the old man's hair was bright red.
'I'm sorry, Holmes,' I said 'I didn't know you were busy. I'll wait in the next room.' But Holmes didn't want me to leave. He pulled me into the room and closed the door.
'This is my friend, Dr Watson,' he said to the old man. 'Dr Watson has helped me with many cases. Perhaps he can also help me with yours.'
'I'm very interested in your cases, Holmes,' I said. This is Mr Jabez Wilson,' went on Holmes. ‘The old man nodded to me. Mr Wilson has come to me with a very unusual story. It's the most interesting problem I've heard for a long time. Wilson, could you please tell your story again from the beginning. I'd like Dr Watson to hear it.'
Mr Wilson pulled an old newspaper out of his pocket. He opened the paper on his knees and turned to the advertisement page. He ran his finger down the advertisements and pointed to them.
'Here,' he said. 'This is how everything began. Read it for yourself, Dr Watson.'
I took the newspaper from Mr Wilson. It was The Morning chronicle and was two months old. I read the advertisement:

THE-RED HEADED LEAGUE: Another vacancy is open for someone wishing to become a member of the League. Salary - four pounds a week. All red-headed men, over 21 years old, should come on Monday at 11 a.m. to this address: Duncan Ross, The Red-Headed League, 7 Pope's Court, Fleet Street, London.

Chapter 2: The Red-Headed League

‘A strange advertisement,' I said. 'Whatever can it mean?’
Holmes laughed. 'It's very unusual, isn't it,' he said. 'And now, Mr Wilson, tell us your story.'
'Well,' began Mr Wilson, 'I have a small shop in Saxe-Coburg Square, in the City of London. 'But business hasn't been good for some time and I don't make much money any more. I used to have two assistants, but now I only pay one. My assistant is very interested in learning the business. So he's willing to work for half-pay.'
That's very unusual,' said Holmes. 'What's the name of your assistant?'
'Vincent Spaulding,' replied Mr Wilson. 'He's an excellent assistant, but he does do one unusual thing. Spaulding's very interested in photography and takes a lot of photographs. He develops these photographs himself, in the cellar of my shop. When he isn't working, he spends all his time down there.'
'Go on, ' said Holmes.
'We live very quietly,' continued Mr Wilson. 'I don't go out very much. And I don't read the newspapers. One day, eight weeks ago, Spaulding came to me with a newspaper in his hand. It was the same newspaper that I showed you, Dr Watson.'
‘Mr Wilson,’ said Spaulding, ‘I wish I were a red headed man.’
'Why?’ I asked in surprise.
'Well, here's another vacancy in The Red-Headed League,’ replied Spaulding.
‘The Red-headed League?’ I asked.
‘What's that?’ Spaulding looked at me and laughed. 'Haven't you ever heard of The Red-Headed League?’ he said.
‘You could become a member and make a lot of money.’
‘Well, when I heard that,' said Mr Wilson, 'at once I became very interested. I needed more money. So I asked Spaulding to tell me more about this Red-Headed League.'
‘I think,’ said Spaulding, ‘the League was started by an American called Ezekiah Hopkins. Ezekiah Hopkins was a very rich man and enjoyed doing unusual things. Hopkins was red-headed himself and liked all other red-headed men. So when he died, he left his money in his will to help red-headed men. The money was used to start The Red-Headed League. When a man became a member, he would be paid an excellent salary for very little work.’
‘And now,’ said Spaulding, showing me the advertisement again, ‘here's another vacancy in the League. Why don't you go to Pope's Court, Mr Wilson? I'm sure you could become a member!’
'Now as you see, gentlemen,' continued Mr Wilson, 'the colour of my hair is bright red. So I thought I could easily become a member of this Red-Headed League.'
Vincent Spaulding seemed to know a lot about the League. So I asked him to come with me to the address in the advertisement.
'We closed the shop for the day and set off for Pope's Court, Fleet Street.'

Chapter 3: An Unusual Job

Holmes rubbed his hands together and smiled.
'Your story is very interesting, Mr Wilson,' he said. 'Please go on.'
'When we arrived in Fleet Street,' said Mr Wilson, 'we saw a strange thing. The whole street was full of red-headed men. They had all come to answer the advertisement. 'When I saw how many men were waiting, I wanted to go home. But Spaulding wouldn't let me. He pushed and pulled me through the crowd. At last, we reached the stairs leading up to the office in Pope's Court. A small man was sitting behind a table. The colour of this man's hair was a brighter red than my own.'
‘This is Mr Jabez Wilson,’ said my assistant. ‘He has come about the vacancy in the League.’
'The small man looked carefully at my hair. He looked at it for such a long time, that I began to feel uncomfortable. Suddenly he bent forward and grabbed my hair with both hands. He pulled at it until I cried out in pain.'
‘I'm sorry I hurt you,’ said the man. ‘Your hair is a wonderful colour. But I had to make sure you weren't wearing a wig. I had to find out if your hair was real. Then he went over to the window. He opened it and shouted down to the men below that the vacancy was taken. The red-headed men groaned with disappointment. Then they began to walk away. In a few minutes, the square was empty.'
‘My name,’ said the small man, ‘is Duncan Ross. You are now a member of The Red-Headed League. When can you start the job?’
‘Well, that's going to be difficult,’ I replied. ‘I have a business already.’
'Oh, don't worry about that, Mr Wilson!’ cried Spaulding. ‘I can look after the business for you.’
Now I knew that my assistant was a good worker and would look after my business well. So I asked Duncan Ross,
‘What are the hours of work?'
‘Every day, between the hours of ten o'clock and two o'clock,’ replied Mr Ross. ‘The pay is four pounds a week. But you must not leave the office at any time between ten and two. If you leave for any reason, you'll lose your pay.'
‘I understand,’ I said. ‘And what is the work?’
'Copying out the Encyclopaedia Britannica. The first book of it is over there. Will you be able to start work tomorrow?'
‘Certainly,’ I said. 'Then goodbye, Mr Wilson. I hope you enjoy your work.'
‘I went home with Vincent Spaulding. I was very pleased. It was an easy job to copy out the Encyclopaedia Britannica and the pay was excellent. Next morning, when I arrived at the office, Duncan Ross was waiting for me. I started copying out the Encyclopaedia, beginning with subjects under the letter 'A'. Sometimes Mr Ross left the room, but he kept coming back to see me. At two o'clock, he told me I had worked well. He was very pleased. Then I left and he locked the office door behind me. 'The same thing happened every day for eight weeks. Every morning, I began work at ten, and every afternoon, I left at two. Every Saturday, I was given four pounds for my week's work. At first, Mr Ross came into the office to watch me work. But after a time, he stopped coming. However, I was afraid to leave the office. I didn't want to lose my pay. But suddenly everything came to an end.’
'To an end?' asked Holmes.
'Yes. This morning, I went to work as usual at ten o'clock. But the door was locked and on it was this card.'
Mr Wilson held up a small piece of white card. This is what it said:

THE RED-HEADED LEAGUE IS FINISHED
9th October 1890

Chapter 4: Who is Vincent Spaulding?

Holmes and I looked at the piece of white card. Then we looked at Mr Wilson's face. He looked very disappointed and upset. But there was also something rather funny about The Red-Headed League. Suddenly we both began to laugh.
'I don't think this is funny!' cried Mr Wilson angrily. 'Perhaps I should take my case somewhere else.'
'No, no,' said Holmes. 'Your case is most interesting and unusual. What did you do when you found the card on the door?'
'I was extremely surprised,' replied Mr Wilson. 'I didn't know what to do. I went to all the offices in the building. I asked if anyone knew anything about The Red-Headed League. But no one had ever heard of Duncan Ross. At last, I went home to Saxe-Coburg Square. I told Vincent Spaulding what had happened. Spaulding said that if I waited, perhaps the League would write to me. Perhaps they would explain everything in a letter. But I didn't want to wait. I've lost a good salary of four pounds a week. I want to find out about this League and why they did this to me. Mr Holmes, I've heard you help people when they are in trouble. That's why I've come to you.’
'You've done the right thing,' said Holmes. 'I'll be happy to help you, Mr Wilson. But first, I want to ask you some questions. Your assistant - Vincent Spaulding - how long had he been with you before he saw the advertisement?'
'About a month.'
'How did he get the job as your assistant?'
'I advertised the vacancy for an assistant. He came for the job. I chose him because he looked a good worker. Also, he said that he would work for half-pay.'
'What does Spaulding look like?'
'He's small and he moves very quickly. He's about thirty years old and has a white mark on his forehead.'
Holmes sat up straight in his chair. He was very excited.
'Tell me,' he said, 'is there anything unusual about Vincent Spaulding's ears?'
'Yes,' replied Mr Wilson. 'They have holes in them for earrings. He told me a gypsy did this when he was a boy.'
Holmes sat back in his chair. He was thinking carefully. I guessed Holmes already knew something about Vincent Spaulding.
'Is Spaulding still working for you?' asked Holmes.
'Yes,' said Mr Wilson. 'I've left him at the shop.'
'Good. Mr Wilson, I need a couple of days to investigate this case. I hope to solve the mystery by Monday.' After Mr Wilson had left Holmes turned to me.
'Well, Watson,' he said, 'what do you think about all this?'
'I can't understand it,' I said. 'It's most unusual.'
'I need to think,' said Holmes. 'Please don't speak to me for at least fifty minutes. I'm going to smoke my pipe.'
Holmes sat back in his chair. He put his black pipe between his lips, lit it and closed his eyes.
Time passed. I thought Holmes had fallen asleep. But suddenly Holmes jumped out of his chair and put his pipe down on the table.
'Watson,' he said, 'we're going to visit Saxe-Coburg Square. Come quickly!'

Chapter 5: A Visit to Saxe-Coburg Square

We soon arrived in Saxe-Coburg Square, the place where Mr Wilson had his shop. Saxe-Coburg Square was in a poor part of London. It was a small and quiet square. On each side of the square stood a line of old houses. In the middle of the square was a small garden with grass. Sherlock Holmes stopped outside one of the houses on the corner of the square.
On the wall of this house, there was a brown notice, with the words 'Jabez Wilson', in white letters. Holmes walked up and down and examined all the houses, carefully. Then, he returned to Mr Wilson's house.
Suddenly, he hit the pavement outside the house with his stick. Then he went up to the house and knocked on the door. Immediately, it was opened by a young man. This was Mr Wilson's assistant, Vincent Spaulding.
'Excuse me,' said Holmes, 'can you please tell me the way to the Strand?'
'Go down the third street on the right,' answered the assistant quickly. Then he closed the door.
‘That's a very clever young man,' said Holmes, as we walked away. 'I know something about him. I believe he's the fourth cleverest man in London.'
'It is clear,' I said, 'that Mr Wilson's assistant plays an important part in the mystery of The Red-Headed League. Did you ask the way to the Strand in order to get a look at him?'
'No,' said Holmes, 'but I wanted to look at the knees of his trousers.'
'The knees of his trousers!' I cried in astonishment. 'Well then, Holmes, why did you hit the pavement?'
'Watson,' said Holmes, 'we haven't time to talk now. We've seen the front of Saxe-Coburg Square. Let's now investigate the street at the back.'
We went round the corner and walked to the street at the back of Mr Wilson's shop. We were immediately in one of the busiest and most important streets in the City of London. A line of expensive shops and important businesses were on the side of the road. Hundreds of people were hurrying along the pavements and the roadway was busy with traffic. It was hard to believe that Saxe-Coburg Square, with its poor, old houses, was immediately behind the important buildings of this busy street.
Holmes looked along the line of buildings.
'This is very interesting, Watson,' said Holmes. 'There's a tobacconist's, a newspaper shop, a restaurant and — ah yes, the offices of the City and Suburban Bank!'
I could see that Holmes was very excited.
'Well, Watson, I have some work to do that will take a few hours,' went on Holmes. ‘This case at Saxe-Coburg Square is serious.’
'Serious!' I said. 'Why?'
'An important crime has been planned. I think we'll be in time to stop it. But I'll need your help tonight.'
'At what time?'
'Ten o'clock.'
'Then I'll be at your apartment at ten.'
'Good. And, Watson - there may be some danger, so please bring your gun with you.'
I said goodbye and went home. I thought about everything that had happened. It was a very strange case and I did not understand what was happening. Where were we going that evening? What were we going to do? Why did I have to bring my gun? And who was Vincent Spaulding? There was only one thing to do.
I had to wait until the evening. Then perhaps I would get the answers to these questions.

Chapter 6: Everything is Ready

At quarter past nine that evening, I set off for Baker Street, where Holmes lived. When I arrived, I noticed two carriages standing outside Holmes' door. Inside his apartment, Holmes was talking with two men. One of them was Peter Jones, a police detective. The other man was tall and thin, with a sad-looking face.
'Hello, Watson,' said Holmes. 'I think you already know Mr Jones, of Scotland Yard? Let me introduce Mr Merryweather. Mr Merryweather is also coming with us tonight.'
'I hope it's important,' said Mr Merryweather sadly. 'I usually play cards with friends on Saturday evenings. I have played cards every Saturday night for the last twenty-seven years.'
'I think,' said Sherlock Holmes, 'that tonight you'll play a more exciting game than cards. You, Mr Merryweather, may lose thirty thousand pounds. You, Jones, may win the prize of a criminal you want to catch.'
'The criminal John Clay, murderer and thief,' said Jones. 'He's a young man, but he's a very clever criminal. I want to catch him more than any criminal in London.'
'It's time to go now,' said Holmes. 'Two carriages are waiting. You two take the first carriage and Watson and I will follow in the second.'
The carriages went quickly through the dark streets. I wondered where we were going.
'We're nearly there,' Holmes said to me, at last. 'This man, Merryweather, is a bank manager. I wanted Jones to come with us, too. He's a good man. He's not very clever, but he is very brave. Ah, here we are.'
We were in the same busy street which Holmes and I had visited earlier in the day. We got out of the carriages and Mr Merryweather took us down to a small side door. Through the door was a corridor with an iron gate at the end. Mr Merryweather opened this gate and stopped to light a lantern. Then he took us down some steps and through another gate. At last, we were in a large cellar.
This cellar was full of large boxes. Holmes took out his magnifying glass and went down on his knees to the floor. He examined the stones on the floor, then he jumped up and put the glass back in his pocket.
'We have about an hour,' he said. 'The criminals will wait until Mr Wilson is in bed. Then they'll move quickly. Watson, we're in the cellar of one of the most important banks in London. Mr Merryweather is the manager of this bank. He'll explain why the criminals are interested in this cellar at the moment.'
'About two months ago,' whispered Mr Merryweather, 'the bank received a huge amount of gold from the Bank of France. But we never used the money. It's still lying in boxes in this cellar.'
'I understand,' I said. 'Well,' said Holmes, 'let's make our plans. Mr Merryweather, you must put out the lantern. But first we must decide where to stand. These men are dangerous and we must move carefully. I want you all to hide behind these boxes. When I shine my light on the men, attack them. If they fire a gun, Watson, shoot back at once. I hid behind a wooden box and put my gun on the top. Merryweather put out the lantern and we were in complete darkness. They have only one way of escape,' whispered Holmes.
'That's back through Wilson's shop, into Saxe-Coburg Square. Have you done what I asked you, Jones?'
'Three police officers are waiting at the front door of Wilson's shop,' replied Jones.
'Excellent! Then everything is ready. And now, we must be silent and wait.'

Chapter 7: The Capture of John Clay

More than an hour went by. My arms and legs were tired, but I was afraid to move. The only sound was the breathing of my three companions. Suddenly I saw a light. This light was coming from underneath the floor. It was shining between the stones in the floor. Slowly, one of the large stones turned over on its side. There was now a large, square hole in the floor.
The light of a lantern shone up through this hole. I saw a face appear in the hole. By the light of the lantern, I recognised Mr Wilson's assistant. The young man pulled himself up out of the hole. He turned round and stood beside the hole. Then he began to pull up another man after him. This man was thin and small, with bright red hair.
'Let's hurry,' whispered the young man. Suddenly Holmes jumped forward and grabbed the young man by the neck. Immediately, the man with red hair jumped down the hole again. Jones grabbed at his coat and I heard the sound of tearing cloth. At once the young man pulled a gun out of his pocket. But Holmes hit the man's hand and the gun fell to the floor.
'Stand still, John Clay,' said Holmes. 'You cannot escape.'
'All right,' replied the young man. 'But I think my friend has escaped.'
'You'll see your friend very soon,' said Jones. 'There are three policemen waiting for him at the front door.’
'Now then, John Clay, please hold out your hands. I'm going to take you to the police station.' Jones put the handcuffs on John Clay's wrists, then led him upstairs. Holmes, Mr Merryweather and I followed them from the cellar.
'Mr Holmes,' said Mr Merryweather, 'I don't know how the bank can thank you. You've stopped a very serious crime.'
'Well,' replied Holmes, 'I've wanted to catch John Clay for a long time. And this has been a very interesting case. I enjoyed hearing the strange story of The Red-Headed League.'

Chapter 8: The Mystery Explained

Later, Holmes explained to me the mystery of The Red-Headed League.
'You see, Watson,' he said, 'it was clear that the men in The Red-Headed League wanted only one thing. They wanted to get Mr Wilson out of his shop for some hours every day. That was why they kept him busy, copying out the Encyclopaedia Britannica. John Clay is a very clever young man. It was he who thought of The Red-Headed League. He thought of it because Mr Wilson's hair was the same colour as his friend's hair - very bright red. 'Clay put the advertisement in the newspaper. Then he showed the advertisement to Mr Wilson. He suggested to Mr Wilson that he should apply for the vacancy in the League. 'When Mr Wilson told us that his assistant was working for half-pay, I knew he must have a special reason for wanting the job.'
'But Holmes,' I said, 'how could you know what that reason was?'
'Mr Wilson's business is small,' explained Holmes. ‘There was nothing inside his house to attract criminals. So I knew it must be something outside the house. What could it be? Mr Wilson told us that Vincent Spaulding - or John Clay - spent many hours in the cellar. The cellar! He was doing something in the cellar. I asked more questions about Vincent Spaulding. I found out that he was John Clay, one of London's most dangerous criminals. What could John Clay want in Wilson's cellar? I could think of only one answer. He must be digging a tunnel to another building. Then we visited Saxe-Coburg Square and I surprised you by knocking on the pavement with my stick. I wanted to find out exactly where the cellar was. I knew, from the sound my stick made, that there was no cellar in front of the house. Then I rang the doorbell and Clay answered it. I saw that the knees of his trousers were dirty. Clearly, he had been digging for many hours. 'But what was he digging for? I walked round the corner, saw the City and Suburban Bank and knew that I had solved the problem. When you went home, I visited Jones and Mr Merry weather and asked them to come with us tonight.'
'How did you know the animals would try to rob the bank tonight?' I asked.
‘When they closed The Red-Headed League office,' said Holmes, 'I knew the tunnel was finished. The criminals were ready to move. Today is Saturday. No one would come to the bank until Monday. If they took the gold tonight, they would have two days for their escape.'
'Excellent, Holmes!' I said. 'You have been very clever. You have solved another difficult case.'