or other."

"He left no message there, I suppose?"

"Not a line or a word. He gave the porter five shillings, though, on the
afternoon before he disappeared--a man who has done some odd jobs for
him."

"Well, a voluntary disappearance is better than an involuntary one,"
Francis remarked. "What was his usual programme when he left the
office?"

"He either went to Queen's and played racquets, or he went straight to
his gymnasium in the Holborn. I telephoned to Queen's. He didn't call
there on the Wednesday night, anyhow."

"Where's the gymnasium?"

"At 147 a Holborn. A lot of city young men go there late in the evening,
but Reggie got off earlier than most of them and used to have the place
pretty well to himself. I think that's why he stuck to it."

Francis made a note of the address.

"I'll get Shopland to step down there some time," he said. "Or better
still, finish your lunch and we'll take a taxi there ourselves. I'm
going to the country later on, but I've half-an-hour to spare. We can go
without our coffee and be there in ten minutes."

"A great idea," Wilmore acquiesced. "It's probably the last place Reggie
visited, anyway."

CHAPTER XVII

The gymnasium itself was a source of immense surprise to both Francis
and Wilmore. It stretched along the entire top storey of a long block of
buildings, and was elaborately fitted with bathrooms, a restaurant and a
reading-room. The trapezes, bars, and all the usual appointments were of
the best possible quality. The manager, a powerful-looking man dressed
with the precision of the prosperous city magnate, came out of his
office to greet them.

"What can I do for you, gentlemen?" he enquired.

"First of all," Francis replied, "accept our heartiest congratulations
upon your wonderful gymnasium."

The man bowed.

"It is the best appointed in the country, sir," he said proudly.
"Absolutely no expense has been spared in fitting it up. Every one of
our appliances is of the latest possible description, and our bathrooms
are an exact copy of those in a famous Philadelphia club."

"What is the subscription?" Wilmore asked.

"Five shillings a year."

"And how many members?"

"Two thousand."

The manager smiled as he saw his two visitors exchange puzzled glances.

"Needless to say, sir," he added, "we are not self-supporting. We have
very generous patrons."

"I lave heard my brother speak of this place as being quite wonderful,"
Wilmore remarked, "b