(Source: A Day by Day Chronology of Mr. Sherlock Holmes According to Zeisler and Christ, compiled by William S Dorn)
June 27, 1890: Holmes and Watson traveled by train to Boscombe Valley. [BOSC]
Sherlock Holmes was pacing up and down the platform, his tall, gaunt figure made even gaunter and taller by his long gray travelling-cloak and close-fitting cloth cap.
“It is really very good of you to come, Watson,” said he. “It makes a considerable difference to me, having someone with me on whom I can thoroughly rely. Local aid is always either worthless or else biased. If you will keep the two corner seats I shall get the tickets.”
We had the carriage to ourselves save for an immense litter of papers which Holmes had brought with him. Among these he rummaged and read, with intervals of note-taking and of meditation, until we were past Reading. Then he suddenly rolled them all into a gigantic ball, and tossed them up on to the rack.
[The legendary deerstalker appears! –Selena]
June 27, 1902: Killer Evans wounded Watson in the leg. [3GAR]
In an instant he had whisked out a revolver from his breast and had fired two shots. I felt a sudden hot sear as if a red-hot iron had been pressed to my thigh. There was a crash as Holmes’s pistol came down on the man’s head. I had a vision of him sprawling upon the floor with blood running down his face while Holmes rummaged him for weapons. Then my friend’s wiry arms were round me and he was leading me to a chair.
“You’re not hurt, Watson? For God’s sake, say that you are not hurt!”
It was worth a wound – it was worth many wounds – to know the depth of loyalty and love which lay behind that cold mask. The clear, hard eyes were dimmed for a moment, and the firm lips were shaking. For the one and only time I caught a glimpse of a great heart as well as of a great brain.
June 27, 1902: Holmes turned Killer Evans over to Scotland Yard. [3GAR]
“But say, Mr. Holmes, what have I done wrong, anyhow? I’ve not used this plant. I’ve not hurt this old stiff. Where do you get me?”
“Only attempted murder, so far as I can see,” said Holmes. “But that’s not our job. They take that at the next stage. What we wanted at present was just your sweet self. Please give the Yard a call, Watson. It won’t be entirely unexpected.”