Getting the Chop
Holmes and I were investigating a rather shady character who worked as a butcher. Holmes had popped into the shop for some reconnaissance and reported back to me when he returned to Baker Street.
“He’s a tall man, Watson – over six feet, at a guess. Strong arms, and mean little eyes.”
I noted these details down. “And what does he weigh, would you say, Holmes?”
At this, Holmes smiled. “Why, Watson, I should think that was obvious.”
What did the man weigh?