Pastor Brown with some alarm turned the ferocious document over to detectives who shortly traced it, with Sherlocky cunning, to it's[sic] youthful author, who thereupon confessed.
"Yes, now what was all that about? You were so damn Sherlocky yesterday all of a sudden. We'd been doing the thing together all the time, and you'd been telling me everything, and then suddenly you become very mysterious and private and talk enigmatically--is that the word?--about dentists and swimming and the 'Plough and Horses,' and--well, what was it all about? You simply vanished out of sight; I didn't know what on earth we were talking about."
1925, Walt Mason, "Rippling Rhymes", The Calgary Daily Herald, 18 June 1925:
My nephew was reading a story, a tale of the Sherlocky sort; its pages were startling and gory, and blood was dispensed by the quart.
1967, Louisa R. Shotwell, Adam Bookout, The Viking Press (1967), page 236:
[…] We would have, if you weren't such a Sherlocky snoop. I suppose you'll tell me next you found our private clubroom."
