became necessary for the man to disappear from No. 74. Therefore, he had
that furniture removed at once. I daresay if we investigated the house
carefully we should find that there was some means of communication
between the two; at least, that is the only explanation I can think of."

"You've got it," Gurdon cried. "I'll wager any money, you are right. But
I am sorry the man has vanished in this mysterious way, because it checks
our investigations at the very outset. The last thing you wanted in this
matter was police interference. Now the whole thing has got into the
papers, and the public are sure to take the matter up. It is the very
class of mystery that the cheap press loves to dwell upon. It has all
the attributes of the _cause celebre_. Here is a handsome man,
picturesque looking, a cripple into the bargain, a man leading an
absolutely secluded life, and the very last person in the world one would
expect to have enemies. He is very rich, too, and lives in one of the
finest houses in the West End of London. He disappears in the most
mysterious manner. Unless I am greatly mistaken, within the next two or
three days London will be disclosing this matter and the newspapers will
be full of it."

"I am afraid you are right," Venner admitted; "but I don't see how we are
going to gain any thing by telling the police what we have found out. As
you know, I investigated this matter solely in the interests of the woman
I love, and with the one intention of freeing her life from the cloud
that hangs over it. In any other circumstances I would go direct to
Scotland Yard and tell them everything we know. But not now. I think you
will agree with me that we should go our own way and say nothing to
anybody about our discovery."

The events of the next day or so fully verified the fears of the two