Once outside the British Museum, Holmes walked across the street to where the wagon had once been parked. I followed him, completely bewildered by the sheer ingenuity of "C.S."

"Holmes," I said, "this is without a doubt going to be one of your most difficult challenges yet. How are you going to deal with our female thief?"

"First, we are going to try to follow the trail of our mysterious thief," said Holmes. "Once we can no longer follow the trail, I will send a telegram to Mycroft."

I nodded, remembering his brother Mycroft and how we helped him investigate a case involving an interpreter of the Greek language. If there was anyone who could help us investigate the mysterious "C.S.", it was Mycroft. However, there was the small matter of the noiseless device that Holmes claimed she had used to carry the marbles out of the museum.

"Do you think Mycroft is going to be able to help you figure out what the so-called 'noiseless device' is that this woman used to carry the marbles out of the museum?" I asked.

"If there is anyone who can do that, it's brother Mycroft," Holmes replied. "Trust me on that. Hmm, it appears that our mysterious female thief did not stay long inside the museum."

"How did you figure that out?" I asked.

"Earlier, I said that the horse had wandered on in such a way that would have been impossible if the driver had been outside, in charge of the horse," Holmes replied. "However, the horse did not get too far before the mysterious 'C.S.' managed to get hold of it. And now she leaves with the horse and wagon -- no doubt with the marbles on the back of the wagon. She is heading up Great Russell Street. Come on, Watson!"

I followed Holmes, up Great Russell Street past the front entrance of the British Museum, past Montague Place, and all the way to Southampton Row. However, there was a great deal of traffic coming down Southampton Row, and Holmes had to wait several moments before the street was clear enough for him to examine it. Unfortunately, it was not long before Holmes returned, completely disgusted.

"I have lost the trail," said Holmes, shaking his head. Then he stopped, cried out, and ran to the corner of Southampton Row and Great Russell Street. There, he closely examined the curb, cried out again, and picked something up off of the road right next to the curb.

"What have you found?" I asked as he returned.

"This," he said as he held up something small and completely unfamiliar to me in his hand. "What do you make of it, Watson?"

I took the small piece out of his hand and carefully examined it. It was gray in color and light in weight. However, I had never seen anything quite like this piece of material before.

"The only things I can make of it is that it's gray in color and that it does not weigh much," I said, giving it back to Holmes.

"I think we can also say that whatever material this piece is made of, it is something that I have never seen before, which means that unless the material is a top-secret invention, nobody has probably seen it before," Holmes added. "This will be useful to Mycroft. I will send it to him along with the telegram. We might as well go back to Lestrade and convince him to take us to the nearest telegraph office, so I can place the telegram to him."

"And then what?" I asked.

"And then I will go through London, looking for all the wagon drivers and owners," said Holmes. "Surely one of them must have had a wagon stolen or requested. If the woman borrowed a wagon, then we should have her pretty easily. If she stole it, then we might have a harder task on our hands. But I almost hope we have a harder task on our hands. I've always wanted an opponent worthy of my skill."

Holmes was elated over the possiblity of having an opponent worthy of his skill. While he had failed once before, in the case of Irene Adler, I had had enough experience of both unusual and commonplace adventures that it would be an extremely difficult opponent whom he could not best in the end.

Lestrade was willing to take us to the nearest telegraph office, where Holmes placed the telegram, then he returned us to 221B Baker Street. Once there, Holmes disappeared into his bedroom, and a few minutes later, came out dressed as a drunken-looking groom, ill-kempt and with a large mustache. He picked up the red fedora from the sofa.

"I suggest you return to your practice and meet me here at about 5:30 for dinner," he suggested. "I will tell you the results of my investigations then."

I took the hint, said good-bye to my friend, and went on to my office.

At 5:00 precisely, I left the office and returned to 221B Baker Street. Mrs. Hudson informed me that Holmes had not returned, but should be back any moment. I sat down with the intention of waiting for Holmes as long as it took. I had had a long, distracting day at work, for every half-hour, my mind kept wandering to the case I had at hand, and I kept thinking about the mysterious thief who was providing such a challenge to Holmes.

It was a quarter to six before the door opened, and the drunken-looking groom I had seen earlier appeared in the doorway. He disappeared into the bedroom, and within minutes, Holmes had emerged. I could tell from his face that the search had not gone well.

"It was a long day," he admitted, some time later, as we sat eating oysters and a brace of grouse prepared by Mrs. Hudson. "I travelled to most of the places closest to 221B Baker Street where I knew wagons were hired, and talked to many grooms. None of them remembered seeing a woman with a long red coat and a red fedora like the one I showed to them coming to rent a wagon. There was one person that reported a wagon stolen, but it was returned and the person who stole it apprehended. The person who stole it was a man. Also, there were reports in the newspapers in recent days of other wagons in other parts of the city that were stolen. I will try those places later. Also, I placed an advertisment requesting information if a woman dressed in a red coat and a matching red fedora rented a wagon in recent days."

"Do you think she rented the wagon?" I asked.

"It is very possible she did just that," said Holmes. "However, she strikes me as being highly intelligent, and she has read at least one of your works about me. It is equally possible that she will realize that if she rented a wagon, she would risk being described by the person she borrowed it from. Therefore, she might well steal it, and under cover of darkness, too. However, tomorrow may well prove more profitable than today, so meet me here for dinner tomorrow, same time."

I agreed to do so, then went home, aware that Holmes would not give up until the mysterious "C.S." was traced, or until she made her next move, whichever came first.

The following day --

The papers next day were full of news about the "daring robbery at the British Museum", as they termed it. Each newspaper had an account of the affair; however, none of them had a very lengthy account of the case, nor did any of them provide a physical description of the mysterious thief other than to say that Inspector Lestrade had a suspect in mind whom he was currently attempting to trace. The one thing all of the accounts had in common was a remark about the boldness of the thief in stealing the marbles while the guard was elsewhere in the museum.

At 5:30, I was at 221B Baker Street, awaiting Holmes's arrival with any news he had. It was not long before the same groom I'd seen yesterday arrived. It was obviously Holmes. I had to wait until he took off his disguise, and we received our dinner, before I could ask him how his search went.

"Mrs. Hudson informed me that there were no grooms or wagon owners that arrived with news of any woman dressed in crimson that rented a wagon," he said. "I fear that we will find that she didn't rent a wagon. While it does hinder my efforts to trace her, I am not entirely surprised that she took this tactic, as she is a woman with extraordinary intelligence, and has some knowledge of my cases at the very least. I will confess, however, that I am partially disappointed by this."

"But did you find any wagon owners or grooms who might be able to help you?" I asked.

"I first went down toward the Thames and toward the eastern half of the city," Holmes began. "There were a couple of grooms who reported thefts of wagons during the night in recent days. Then I moved away from the banks of the Thames, but still remained in the eastern end of the city. There were a couple more thefts of wagons in the area. However, nobody could give me much information concerning who stole the wagons. If our mysterious female thief stole a wagon from one of those places, she obviously scored on me again, for it's very difficult to trace her."

"Don't worry," I said. "Sooner or later you'll be able to track her down. Or she'll plan something else, and you'll be on her trail again." Little did I know how accurate that prediction was going to be.

"Most likely, we will have to wait until she makes her next move," Holmes predicted. "Also, I have yet to receive a reply telegram from brother Mycroft. I did not truly expect a reply this early on, yet it contributes to my frustration over being unable to track down the thief."

Fortunately, Holmes was able to relieve his frustration after dinner by playing upon the violin for at least half an hour. He would have played it longer than he did, except that he was interrupted by a tap on the door at about a quarter to eight. It was Inspector Lestrade.

"Hello, Inspector," Holmes said, putting down his violin. "And how have your efforts to track down our mysterious thief been progressing? No doubt you have had plenty of success." I am certain even Lestrade could have detected sarcasm dripping in Holmes's words and voice.

"Unfortunately, I have had no luck in tracking her down," Lestrade said. "While the afternoon guard noticed her in the museum, it was not because of her behavior but because of her dress. She acted in a rather quiet manner while in the museum, and he did not connect her with the theft of the marbles until we mentioned that you fingered her as the prime suspect in the case. However, I received something about a half hour ago which may lead us to our mysterious thief."

He took out a telegram, saying, "At 7:15, I was working in my office when the secretary came in with this telegram. When I read it, I knew you would want to read it." As he said this, he handed the telegram to Holmes, who examined it carefully. He chuckled and said, "It's from our mystrious thief, all right. Take a look at this, Watson."

I took a look at it. The first words I saw were "ordinary folk". A couple of lines down, I saw the words "Tausend Siebzhen Hundert Ten". Then, finally, I saw the words, "The game's afoot. C.S."

"What is she referring to in this telegram?" I asked, handing it back to Holmes.

"The words 'Tausend Siebzhen Hundert Ten' means 1710 in the German language. Unfortunately, I do not yet know what she means by the words 'ordinary folk'. It may well be a phrase meant to jog my memory, but -- " his voice trailed off as he thought for a few moments. Finally, he jumped to his feet and began rushing to his private index, which docketed all paragraphs concerning men or things.

"Of course! The words 'ordinary folk' must have been said by a German in the year 1710! That must be the meaning of her using those words. But it will take a while -- she didn't tell us which German said it, which means either that the German is anonymous or that she's holding back some vital information. Nonetheless, I will find out!"

It did not take all that long, however. Within ten minutes, he cried, "Aha! Here it is! The entry concerning the Ashmolean Museum in Oxford has a reference to a German visitor in 1710 expressing displeasure at the presence of -- here it is -- 'ordinary folk' in the museum! Our thief must be after something at the Ashmolean Museum! And since the telegram was obviously posted close to 7:00, that means she may be at the museum already!"

"I have a cab outside the door," said Lestrade.

"Excellent!" Holmes cried, jumping up and getting his hat and coat. "Come on, Watson! We are off to Paddington Station, on the trail of a woman in red."

By 8:15, we were at Paddington Station, awaiting a train that left for London at 8:30. Holmes was excited at the prospect of trying to thwart the thief's plans, but I was worried. The journey might take anywhere from an hour and a half to nearly two and a quarter hours! That meant our mysterious thief might steal something from the Ashmolean Museum at any time and get away by the time we arrived.

However, by 10:30, we were finally at the Oxford Railway Station. Lestrade managed to pick up a cab shortly after we managed to get out of the station, and soon we were on our way to Beaumont Street, where the Ashmolean Museum was located. With Holmes encouraging the driver to hurry, we were at the museum within ten minutes, instead of the usual fifteen minutes it might have taken. We got out, Lestrade paid the fare, and we raced to the front entrance, where Holmes examined the front door of the museum. Finally, he stood up, frowning.

"In all probablity, she has been here," he said. "There are scratches around the keyhole, and my lens indicates that it's from the same source as the source that made the scratches at the British Museum. We must get inside and see if she stole anything."

Lestrade knocked on the door, and within five minutes, it was opened by a night watchman. "What do you want?" he asked, rather sullenly.

Holmes said, "We want to examine your paintings. This is urgent. A female thief has stolen marbles from the British Museum and we have every reason to believe she plans to steal something from this museum." It took a few minutes of persuasion, but finally the night watchman let us in, upon learning Holmes's identity.

We followed the night watchman through the museum as he checked all the collections. Finally, he came to a gallery he called the Mallett Gallery. This was where sketches by Raphael and Michelangelo were kept. However, it became very clear that our thief had come here. Where one of the sketches was supposed to be, there was a sealed envelope.

"The sketch of Samson and Delilah, drawn by Michelangelo! It's gone!" the night watchman yelled. "But how did the thief get it out --"

"Do not blame yourself," said Holmes. "The thief is most ingenious and resourceful. Besides, it is easier to take a sketch out of a museum than it is to take marbles out of a museum, as we found out ourselves." He looked very frustrated, and Lestrade seemed torn between an expression of anger at the thief, and amusement at the look of obvious frustration on Holmes's face.

The watchman meanwhile picked up the sealed envelope. "This is for you, Mr. Holmes," he said, handing it to my friend.

Holmes opened it and examined the note inside. Seconds later, he handed it to me with a look of barely controlled fury. "It is bad enough when an adversary, no matter how worthy he or she may be, outsmarts me, but when the adversary has the gall to rub salt into my wound, that is going too far!"

I read the note out loud. It simply said:

"Most men would say that women, like children, are supposed to be seen and not heard. I doubt either Delilah or Aphrodite would agree with this sentiment, and neither do I. Nor do I think that just because you are a world-famous detective, that that does not mean your ego needs to be deflated. In fact, I believe that you could benefit from your ego being deflated a bit. I trust this theft has done just that.

The next move is yours.

C.S."

I stared at him in amazement. What did Holmes have in mind?