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“She is most beautiful, Watson, is she not?” Holmes said almost reverently, cradling the chicken in his arms.
Watson blinked, temporarily at a loss. The chicken in Holmes’ hands sported a short, thick comb and stunning black feathers with golden centers, and seemed quite content to be held. “She is beautiful, yes. I am simply somewhat uncertain what she is doing in our sitting room.”
“Visiting,” Holmes said, helpfully. “You may pet her, Watson. She is quite docile and friendly.”
Watson petted the chicken’s shockingly soft feathers. She made no objection, occupying herself with pecking gently at dust specks on Holmes’ sleeve.
“From the book, I presume she is a Wyandotte,” Watson said, gesturing to the book on the table. Wyandottes and All About Them was bookmarked with a telegram. “And perhaps somehow involved in a case?”
“Oh, yes.” The smile on Holmes’ face broadened, and he set the chicken in a large wire enclosure which he had placed in front of the settee. “She is.”
Watson watched as Holmes scattered oats for her to peck at. “I’m admittedly unsure what a chicken could have to do with a fraud case, old man.”
Holmes let out a gust of laughter, but did not elaborate. He simply tossed down another handful of oats and watched as the chicken happily followed them. She investigated a short log which he had placed in the enclosure, then hopped on top of it. With a flurry of beautiful laced wings, she escaped the enclosure and went to perch on the back of the settee.
That simply made Holmes laugh again, and Watson smiled as Holmes went to gently retrieve her. It seemed they were in need of an enclosure with a top. It also seemed that this case, whatever it was, would be an adventure.