After a long and weary day in my new consulting room, I was relieved to find that the last patient of the day had canceled his appointment. I decided that I would use the opportunity to close up my practice early and pay Holmes a visit, as it had been some time since I had last seen him. When I reached Baker Street, I was surprised to see Wiggins, the raggedy lieutenant of the Baker Street Irregulars, pacing in front of my friend's door. As accustomed as I was to the street Arab's typically high spirits, it was a shock to see him frowning so unhappily.

"Hullo, Doctor," he greeted me gloomily, "D'you know if the guv'nor is in?"

"Has he got you boys on a case, then?" I inquired.

"No, sir, we 'aven't seen much of the guv'nor lately. 'Asn't needed us since 'e wanted us to find that boat."

"You mean the Aurora?"

"Tha's the one, sir. But I 'aven't come on a case today."

"No matter," I said as I opened the door of No. 221B, "I expect Mr. Holmes is in the sitting room, so we may as well go and see him together."

It was as I had predicted. Upon ascending the seventeen stairs, Wiggins and I found Holmes lounging in his armchair smoking a pipe.

"Well, this is certainly unexpected," he remarked, "Pray come in, both of you. It is most fortunate that you have stopped by, as I have not had a case in nearly a week. Life was becoming rather monotonous."

It was indeed fortunate, if our visit had saved Holmes from the evils of the needle and the cocaine bottle, but with Wiggins present, I could not say as much. I instead remarked that I was glad to see him after such a long time.

"And I you, my dear Watson," he replied, "There is tobacco in the Persian slipper should you wish to take advantage of it and I think you'll find that your old armchair is as comfortable as always. I am afraid, Wiggins, that you will have to content yourself with the floor. Mrs. Hudson won't appreciate it if we get dirt on the furniture."

"Tha's alroight guv'nor, I can stand. I shan't stay long."

"Very well, suit yourself," Holmes said, shrugging his shoulders, "I suppose you have something important to say, since you have come all the way here without my asking you to."

"I dunno if it's real important, sir, but yes, I 'ave something to say."

"You have my undivided attention."

"Well, my mum 'ad this real well-to-do uncle, see, only 'e died not too long ago. The thing is, sir, 'e's left us some money, and mum's used it to sign me up for school."

"Why, that's wonderful, Wiggins!" I exclaimed, "When do you start?"

"Mum said term starts next week."

"You don't seem very happy about it," Holmes observed, "You are as gloomy as I have ever seen you."

"I guess tha's true, guv, I'm not very 'appy."

"But just think of it! You'll be able to learn so much," I pointed out. For one of our little street urchins, this was indeed a rare opportunity.

"You sound jus' like Mum, Doctor. She keeps saying 'ow it'll 'elp me in the long run."

"And so it will, my boy," I said heartily. "Which school is this, anyhow?"

"Oh, you prob'ly don't know it, sir. It's not very big, and it's…a good ways away."

It suddenly became clear to me why the prospect of going to school might be distressing to our young friend.

"Wiggins," I said gently, "Just how far away will you be going?"

He didn't seem to want to look at us as he answered. "Very far, sir," he mumbled quietly, "I won't be back in London very much, sir."

"So that's why you've come," Holmes interjected impatiently, "You're leaving the Irregulars."

"Yes, guv'nor," he managed to choke out, "Tha's why."

My heart went out to the lad as he hastily wiped a tear from his dirt stained face. For so many years, Wiggins had led the Baker Street division of the detective police force. He had been a reliable lieutenant and had stayed with the Irregulars through thick and thin. I am sure that Holmes would be the first to admit that many of his most remarkable cases could not have been brought to a successful conclusion without the effects of Wiggins and his little band of street Arabs.

But now Wiggins would be traveling to an unfamiliar school and he would have to leave his old world behind him. His friends could not come with him. His mother could do naught but kiss him goodbye at the station and watch the train pull him away to this strange place. Here he would learn the ways of the world and here the ragtag ways of the streets would have to be forgotten. There would be no more traipsing about London without shoes, no more detective work with the promise of a shilling hanging over his head, and no more reports to the guv'nor. Leaving the Irregulars meant leaving all of those things behind and young Wiggins knew it.

"I don't want to leave 'ere just yet," Wiggins sniffed, "But it means so much to Mum, an' she's always been workin' so 'ard for us. I can't let 'er down, I just can't."

As Holmes sat in stony silence, I walked over to the unhappy boy, offering him a handkerchief. "There now, Wiggins, it won't be so bad."

"Thanks, Doctor" he snuffled, blowing his nose, "Y'know, Pop went to this same school I'll be going to. Tha's why Mum picked it out. She was so 'appy when we could finally afford it."

"It shall be alright," I assured him, "I'm sure you'll make your father very proud."

Wiggins's sniffling was getting even louder. "No, Doctor, 'e's been gone for years, 'e 'as. Left all of us on our own one Christmas and we never 'eard from 'im again. No sir, I don't want to make 'im proud."

At this, Holmes made a little sigh of impatience. Evidently Wiggins's family history was not of interest to him. I could have punched him in the face for being so insensitive as Wiggins's expression became even more miserable.

"I'm sorry, guv'nor, I'm getting carried away," he said mournfully, "But I just wanted to say, I'm very grateful to you, sir. This 'as been a roight good job, it 'as."

"Pay it no mind," Holmes barked imperiously, "But I would like to know, Wiggins, if you have determined which of the boys shall replace you as the leader of the Irregulars."

"Well, it's your decision, you're the boss. But I think Simpson would lead 'em just fine, sir."

"Yes, Simpson will do. Now then, if you don't mind, Wiggins, I should like to talk to Dr. Watson for a bit, as he undoubtedly shall have to get back to his wife before too long," he said edgily, ignoring the icy glare I was giving him.

"Roight, guv'nor, I'll be on my way, then," he mumbled, looking as though what little spirit he had left had been blown out of him.

"Good luck, Wiggins," I murmured.

He nodded sadly in my direction, took one last wistful glance about the sitting room and turned to leave, dragging his feet as he did so.

"Well, that's a shame," I remarked once he had gone.

"It is no great loss," Holmes replied impassively, "I have other boys."

"But Wiggins has been with you for so long."

"Yes," he said absentmindedly, "Almost too long."

"My dear Holmes!"

"Those boys are meant to go everywhere and see everything, completely unnoticed and trusted by all. Their value lies in their ability to collect information for me without anyone suspecting them," he lectured, "Surely Watson, you can recognize that it is much easier for them to do so when they are still young."

"So you mean to say that Wiggins was getting too old to be of any use to you," I stated.

"Precisely. I would have had to ask him to leave sooner or later. It was time for him to move on."

"I must say, Holmes, that's rather coldhearted of you," I retorted, "Wiggins may be older than the others, but he's still just a boy. You must have seen how upset he was that he had to leave."

He dismissed my observations with a wave of his hand.

"You know, Holmes," I snapped, "This offhand manner of yours is half the reason Wiggins was so behaving so miserably."

"I beg your pardon?"

"Do you ever realize anything of other people's emotions?" I cried, exasperated.

"Watson, I do wish you'd get to the point."

"The point?" I sputtered, "The point is that young Wiggins has had the time of his life working with you. Now he has to leave, and you don't even acknowledge him. You brush him aside, just like you do with everyone, and it hurts him. You hurt him greatly just now, and I'll bet you don't even know why."

"Pray enlighten me, then," he growled.

"He looked up to you, Holmes! He respected you so much. Every time I talked to the lad, it was 'the guv'nor this' and 'the guv'nor that'."

"Oh come now, Watson," he interrupted petulantly, "I hardly knew the boy."

"If that is so, it is because you never allowed yourself to know him. But he looked up to you just the same! Now that he's leaving, I thought you might finally take a bit of an interest in him. However…it seems I was mistaken."

"Very well," he said nonchalantly, "If it means so much to you, the next time I see him-"

"He's leaving next week, Holmes!" I exclaimed heatedly, "You most likely won't get another chance to see him for a long time. Perhaps you should have considered that. But no, the great detective was too wrapped up in himself, as usual, and now it is too late."

"No, Watson," he pleaded quietly as I snatched up my coat and hat, "Don't go."

"Incidentally, Holmes," I said coldly, "If you were to take an interest in the boy, it should not be because it would please me. It should be because you yourself want to."

And with that, I left him sitting stunned in his armchair, no doubt wondering what I possibly could have meant.

It had been about a week since then. I very much regretted that I had been harsh with my friend. Considering how heated our last conversation was, it came as a surprise to see him standing at my doorstep early one morning.

"My dear Watson," he said tentatively, "I wonder if you would be so kind as to accompany me? I have a hansom waiting."

I did not know what he had in mind or where we were going, but that was not such an unusual thing, so with a hurried explanation to my wife, we were off.

We pulled up by the nearest train station and made our way to one of the platforms. No one was there but one boy, accompanied by a few raggedy pieces of luggage. He looked up as we approached and I was shocked to see that the lad was none other than Wiggins. His hair was combed neatly, his face was washed, and he was wearing clean clothes without any holes or rips, but there was no mistaking the grin that suddenly lit up his face.

"Dr. Watson!" he cried, "An' the guv'nor too! But 'ow did you find me?"

"I would hardly be a very useful detective if I could not determine what train one boy was leaving from," Holmes said pleasantly.

"Which means that he asked your mother, no doubt," I interjected.

"Dr. Watson, you are scintillating this morning," he chuckled, "Incidentally Wiggins, I suppose your mother couldn't make it? I see no sign of her."

His face fell a bit as he shook his head. "No sir, she 'ad work to do. She's still got both of my sisters to look after, you know."

"Ah, quite so. Well, Wiggins, it has come to my attention recently that I behaved very thoughtlessly towards you when we last met."

I coughed pointedly.

"Or to be more precise, it was brought to my attention," he said shamefacedly.

"Oh, no, guv'nor, don't worry about it. You don't owe me a thing."

"On the contrary, I rather think I do. You gave me some important information when I last saw you."

"An' what was that, begging your pardon, sir?" Wiggins inquired, confused.

"You told me that my trusted lieutenant would be leaving me. And while it was by no means information I wanted to hear, it is reliable all the same, and must be rewarded. I assume the old scale of pay will do?"

He pulled out a coin and tossed it to Wiggins, who was positively beaming. He looked upon that final shilling as though it was the most precious thing in the world.

"Be sure to tell my lieutenant that I expect that he'll do his best in his new school," Holmes said with a mischievous sparkle in his eye.

"And there's one more thing," I added, "Let him know that we would very much appreciate it if he would drop by Baker Street over the holidays."

"I'll give 'im the message," Wiggins laughed, "But it looks like the train's pullin' up. I 'ave to be getting on my way."

After we helped him with his luggage and he settled himself into a comfortable compartment, we returned to the platform as Wiggins leaned out the open window.

"I've got a return message for you!" Wiggins shouted, "The lieutenant says 'e'll make you proud, Mr. Holmes! An' you too, Dr. Watson!"

"I'm sure he will, Wiggins," I said, ruffling his hair until he squirmed away, "I'm sure he will."

The train began to pull away, leaving us waving goodbye.

"Well, Watson," Holmes said as we started to walk away, "I suppose I must thank you."

"Why, for what?"

"For being absolutely right," he replied as the train disappeared from view.