"Of course; and the servant goes on to suggest that Mr. Bates had
mysterious enemies, who caused him considerable trouble from time to
time. But now I come to the interesting part of my story. At the foot of
the narrative which is contained in the _Comet_, that I hold in my hand,
is a full description of Mr. Bates."

"Go on," Gurdon said breathlessly. "I should be little less than an idiot
if I did not know what was coming."

"I thought you would guess," Venner said. "A name like Bates implies
middle age and respectability. But this Bates is described as being young
and exceedingly good looking. Moreover, he is afflicted with a kind of
paralysis, which renders his movements slow and uncertain. And now you
know all about it. There is not the slightest doubt that this missing
Bates is no other than our interesting friend, the good-looking cripple.
The only point which leaves us in doubt is the fact that Mr. Bates is a
respectable householder, living at 75, Portsmouth Square, while the man
who tried to murder you entertained you at No. 74, which house, now, is
absolutely empty. We need not discuss that puzzle at the present moment,
because there are more important things to occupy our attention. There
can be no doubt that this man who calls himself Bates has been kidnapped
by somebody. You will not have much difficulty in guessing the name of
the culprit."

"I guess it at once," Gurdon said. "If I mention the name of Mark
Fenwick, I think I have said the last word."