No, we are on the true scent now." It tended down towards the river-side, running through Belmont Place and Prince's Street.

At the end of Broad Street it ran right down to the water's edge, where there was a small wooden wharf.

Toby led us to the very edge of this, and there stood whining, looking out on the dark current beyond.
"We are out of luck," said Holmes.

"They have taken to a boat here." Several small punts and skiffs were lying about in the water and on the edge of the wharf.

We took Toby round to each in turn, but, though he sniffed earnestly, he made no sign.
Close to the rude landing-stage was a small brick house, with a wooden placard slung out through the second window.