"Throw the door open, officer, "said Holmes. "Now it was on those stairs that young Mr. Cunningham stood and saw the two men struggling just where we are. Old Mr. Cunningham was at that window the second on the left - and he saw the fellow get away just to the left of that bush."
". . . said Mr. Cunningham, gravely. "Why, my son Alec had not yet gone to bed, and he would certainly have heard anyone moving about."
"Where was he sitting?"
"I was sitting smoking in my dressing-room."
"Which window is that?"
"The last on the left, next my father's."
"A stone-flagged passage, with the kitchens branching away from it, led by a wooden staircase directly to the first floor of the house. It came out upon the landing opposite to a second more ornamental stair which led up from the front hall. Out of this landing opened the drawing-room and several bedrooms, including those of Mr. Cunningham and his son."
". . . said Mr. Cunningham. . . That is my room at the end of the stairs, and my son's is the one beyond it."