Death on the Moor · 13:22 - 13:55
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He had started running swiftly over the moor, and I had followed at his heels. But now, from somewhere among the broken ground immediately in front of us, there came one last despairing yell, and then a dull, heavy thud. We halted and listened. Not another sound broke the heavy silence of the windless night. I saw Holmes put his hand to his forehead like a man distracted. He stamped his feet upon the ground. He has beaten us, Watson. We are too late.