ut I had no idea that it was upon this scale."

"Is your brother a member?" the man asked.

"He is. To tell you the truth, we came here to ask you a question about
him."

"What is his name?"

"Reginald Wilmore. He was here, I think, last Wednesday night."

While Wilmore talked, Francis watched. He was conscious of a curious
change in the man's deportment at the mention of Reginald Wilmore's
name. From being full of bumptious, almost condescending good-nature,
his expression had changed into one of stony incivility. There was
something almost sinister in the tightly-closed lips and the suspicious
gleam in his eyes.

"What questions did you wish to ask?" he demanded.

"Mr. Reginald Wilmore has disappeared," Francis explained simply. "He
came here on leaving the office last Monday. He has not been seen or
heard of since."

"Well?" the manager asked.

"We came to ask whether you happen to remember his being here on that
evening, and whether he gave any one here any indication of his future
movements. We thought, perhaps, that the instructor who was with him
might have some information."

"Not a chance," was the uncompromising reply. "I remember Mr. Wilmore
being here perfectly. He was doing double turns on the high bar. I saw
more of him myself than any one. I was with him when he went down to
have his swim."

"Did he seem in his usual spirits?" Wilmore ventured.

"I don't notice what spirits my pupils are in," the man answered, a
little insolently. "There was nothing the matter with him so far as I
know."

"He didn't say anything about going away?"

"Not a word. You'll excuse me, gentlemen--"

"One moment," Francis interrupted. "We came here ourselves sooner than
send a detective. Enquiries are bound to be made as to the young man's
disappearance, and we have reason to know that this is the last place at
which he was heard of. It is not unreasonable, therefore, is it, that we
should come to you for information?"

"Reasonable or unreasonable, I haven't got any," the man declared
gruffly. "If Mr. Wilmore's cleared out, he's cleared out for some reason
of his own. It's not my business and I don't know anything about it."

"You understand," Francis persisted, "that our interest in young Mr.
Wilmore is entirely a friendly one?"

"I don't care whether it's friendly or unfriendly. I tell you I don't
know anything about him. And," he added, pressing his thumb upon the
button for the lift, "I'll wish you two