five minutes to five
The darned village was three-quarters of a mile from Normanstow Towers , and I did n't feel like taking a tramp just then , but Holmes seemed to be in high spirits as we passed along the ancient and dilapidated main street of the village , sizing up the signs above the stores until we came to one that read : WILFRED WUXLEY FLOUR and FEED It did n't look very inviting , being only a hundred feet away from the grimy railroad station by which we had first come here , with cinders blown all over it , and if the building had been back in the U. S. A. and I was a deputy state fire marshal , I would have ordered it torn down at once . Of course none of the constables were in sight anywhere , probably being asleep in some back room ! Holmes led the way into the feed store , and we met the proprietor , who strongly reminded me of Inspector Letstrayed and Egbert Bunbury by his general air of sleepy incompetence . It was now five minutes to five , and after Holmes had warned old man Wuxley of his identity beneath the valet 's livery , we decided to hide behind one of the barrels of bran that stood on one side of the store , and there await the coming of Demetrius with his booty . We did n't have long to wait , for he soon showed up in the doorway , -- with his swarthy face and shifty eyes , -- and asked Wuxley if Luigi had arrived yet to meet him . Suppressing a smile , Wuxley motioned him in , saying that Luigi was in a back room . As he passed the bran barrels Holmes and I jumped out and nailed him , and Holmes exclaimed : `` Well , here I am , Mr. Xanthopoulos .