Story Skeleton—The Adventure of the Dancing Men

Story structure relates to the psychological appeal of narrative, that which engages readers and builds in them a sense of anticipation—a desire to know what happens next. Our ongoing exploration now delves into mysteries, illustrating yet again the universality of story structure, albeit from a different angle.

By David Griffin Brown

Decoding the Cipher

First published in The Strand Magazine in 1903, The Adventure of the Dancing Men is one of Arthur Conan Doyle’s best-loved short stories. While we recently explored The Hound of the Baskervilles—a fully developed novel with twists, red herrings, and a full cast of characters—this story demonstrates how mystery can thrive in an abridged structure.

The appeal of the detective subgenre lies, in part, in its episodic nature. Unlike other genres, mysteries do not (necessarily) need extensive side quests or relationship arcs. The focus remains on the enigma at hand. This brevity lends itself well to short stories and serialized television, a format Doyle helped popularize with Holmes’ adventures.

PLOT POINTS

The Detective is Revealed

As is customary in a Holmes story, we begin at 221B Baker Street for a quick demonstration of the detective and his abilities. In this instance, Holmes casually observes Watson and deduces that he will disregard a South African friend’s investment advice. Watson, as usual, is baffled by Holmes’ impossible insights, until the detective breaks his conclusion down into a series of reasonable observations and deductions. This stasis opening introduces Holmes’ sharp observational skills and sets the stage for the case to come.

The Initial Puzzle

A letter arrives from Mr. Hilton Cubitt of Ridling Thorpe Manor in Norfolk. Enclosed is a drawing of stick figures in various positions—dancing men. Watson dismisses the drawing as a child’s doodle, but Holmes immediately has an idea about its meaning.

Soon after, Cubitt arrives to provide a deeper explanation of the case. The dancing men have terrified his wife Elsie, though she refuses to explain why.

Key clues:

• Elsie is an American.
• As a condition to their marriage, she insisted that Cubitt never ask about her past.
• Two weeks before the dancing men appeared, she destroyed a letter from America.

The inciting incident has landed. At this stage, Holmes is intrigued but lacks enough information to reach a conclusion. He asks Cubitt to inform him of any other developments—in particular, if more drawings appear.

Case Accepted

Two weeks later, Cubitt returns with more drawings. Holmes is now excited, as he thinks he understands the meaning behind the strange stick figures. Soon after, he sends out a batch of telegrams to gather information. But what has he deciphered? And to whom has he sent these telegrams? As is customary, Holmes keeps this to himself—he does not like to speculate on a case openly until he is certain of his conclusions.

It’s worth noting that this is a divergence from most contemporary detective fiction. Of course, Doyle was writing when the genre was still in its infancy. Modern mysteries typically share all clues with the reader, though they are arranged in a misleading way. We are usually led to an incorrect conclusion about the motive. For this reason, Blake Snyder of Save the Cat! fame refers to the genre as a Whydunnit as opposed to the more typical Whodunnit.

When Cubitt sends a fresh set of drawings, Holmes is alarmed. The next morning, Holmes and Watson board a train to Norfolk. Here, Holmes crosses the point of no return. He was already committed to the case, but now the stakes have risen such that he must take immediate action. (Of course, we don’t yet know why Holmes is alarmed since he is still keeping his cards close.)

The Case is Lost

In a novel-length mystery, the detective typically has to hunt for more clues, which constitutes the story’s rising action. They may encounter red herrings and dead ends, which lead them to circle back to the original facts of the case to consider the scenario anew. There will often be a bit of excitement at the midpoint, like in Hound of the Baskervilles when Watson and Sir Henry head out onto the moor in an effort to apprehend Selden, the escaped convict.  However, the short form doesn’t allow for an extended investigation. In The Adventure of the Dancing Men, we jump straight from the point of no return to the all-is-lost moment.

Holmes and Watson arrive too late. Cubitt is dead, and Elsie is gravely injured and unresponsive. At first glance, it appears Elsie shot her husband and then herself.

This reversal shifts the detective’s goal from protecting his client to catching the culprit. Inspector Martin of the local police welcomes Holmes’ expertise.

Key clue:

• Holmes finds a third bullet lodged in the window frame, suggesting a second shooter.

Nabbing the Culprit

Holmes scrawls his own stick-figure drawing, which he sends to the nearby Elrige’s Farm. Watson and Inspector Martin are, at first, perplexed. But while they wait for the note to be delivered, Holmes explains the stick figures are a cipher. Each of the “dancing men” represents a different letter; they are secret messages from a notorious criminal from Chicago.

When Holmes decoded the first message, which read “AM HERE ABE SLANEY,” he sent telegrams to police in New York to confirm the man’s identity. The second message read “AT ELRIGES COME ELSIE,” which is how he knew Slaney was hiding out at the nearby farm. The third message, which spurred Holmes into action, read “ELSIE PREPARE TO MEET THY GOD.”

And so we’ve arrived at the climax. Sure enough, Holmes’ forged note (“COME HERE AT ONCE”) lures Slaney to the manor; the criminal believes it was sent by Elsie, since no one else would be able to use the cipher. Wrong, punk! Abe Slaney is taken into custody.

Reviewing the Evidence

Slaney delivers most of the resolution in a confession. Elsie had been his fiancée, but she fled his criminal lifestyle. Her father and Slaney were part of “the Joint,” a criminal organization where they created the cipher of the dancing men. Slaney followed her to Norfolk, hoping to win her back. When he came to the manor to demand Elsie return to America, Cubitt confronted him, firing first. Slaney returned fire, killing Cubitt. Elsie, in despair, attempted suicide.

Watson fills us in on the aftermath: Slaney receives life in prison; Elsie meanwhile recovers and assumes the management of Ridling Thorpe Manor.

The Detective’s Arc

Holmes undergoes no personal transformation in this story—nor is one expected. The reader’s arc, however, is contained in our transition from confusion to comprehension. Sherlock doesn’t reveal that the dancing men are a cipher until the end, though Doyle included the stick-figure drawings in the original publication, allowing readers to take their own crack at the code. Yet, some critical information, such as the telegram from New York, remains exclusive to Holmes, which limits the reader’s ability to solve the case entirely. That ensures that when readers arrive at the resolution (Reviewing the Evidence), we are satisfied by all the puzzle pieces locking into place.

In Conclusion

Mysteries thrive on their ability to engage readers in a self-contained puzzle, making them particularly suited to episodic storytelling. Each installment offers a fresh enigma to unravel, allowing authors to facilitate the intellectual satisfaction of piecing together clues. This structure often gives mystery writers a pass when it comes to developing strong character arcs or evolving relationships. Sherlock Holmes, for example, remains essentially the same man throughout Doyle’s stories—an unchanging genius who serves as the reader’s guide through each puzzle. Watson’s awe and the ever-familiar 221B Baker Street provide a grounding consistency, while the arc is handed to the audience. It’s our journey from confusion to clarity that delivers the payoff.

The Adventure of the Dancing Men epitomizes the episodic appeal of traditional mysteries, but it also provides a clue to the genre’s emotional draw, which lies in the cerebral satisfaction of the detective’s reasoning. Doyle’s choice to include the cipher teases readers with the illusion of participation, but the withheld details remind us that these stories often deny us the opportunity to solve the puzzle ourselves. Instead, they are about the interplay of suspense, misdirection, and resolution—an experience as suited to tight, procedural narratives as it is to character-driven explorations of justice and morality.

David Griffin Brown is an award-winning short fiction writer and co-author of Immersion and Emotion: The Two Pillars of Storytelling. He holds a BA in anthropology from UVic and an MFA in creative writing from UBC, and his writing has been published in literary magazines such as the Malahat Review and Grain. In 2022, he was the recipient of a New Artist grant from the Canada Council for the Arts. David founded Darling Axe Editing in 2018, and as part of his Book Broker interview series, he has compiled querying advice from over 100 literary agents. He lives in Victoria, Canada, on the traditional territory of the Songhees and Esquimalt Nations.