of contest which frequently
takes place here. Two boxers place themselves unreservedly in my hands.
The details of the match are arranged without their knowledge. They come
into the ring without knowing whom they are going to fight. Sometimes
they never know, for my men wear masks. Then we have private matches.
There is one to-night. Lord Meadowson and I have a wager of a thousand
guineas. He has brought to-night from the East End a boxer who,
according to the terms of our bet, has never before engaged in
a professional contest. I have brought an amateur under the same
conditions. The weight is within a few pounds the same, neither has ever
seen the other, only in this case the fight is with regulation gloves
and under Queensberry rules."

"Who is your amateur, Sir Timothy?" Wilmore asked harshly.

"Your brother, Mr. Wilmore," was the prompt reply. "You shall see the
fight if I have your promise not to attempt in any way to interfere."

Wilmore rose to his feet.

"Do you mean to tell me," he demanded, "that my brother has been decoyed
here, kept here against his will, to provide amusement for your guests?"

"Mr. Wilmore, I beg that you will be reasonable," Sir Timothy
expostulated. "I saw your brother box at his gymnasium in Holborn. My
agent made him the offer of this fight. One of my conditions had to
be that he came here to train and that whilst he was here he held no
communication whatever with the outside world. My trainer has ideas of
his own and this he insists upon. Your brother in the end acquiesced.
He was at first difficult to deal with as regards this condition, and
he did, in fact, I believe, Mr. Ledsam, pay a visit to your office, with
the object of asking you to become an intermediary between him and his
relatives."

"He began a letter to me," Francis interposed, "and then mysteriously
disappeared."

"The mystery is easily explained," Sir Timothy continued. "My trainer,
Roger Hagon, a Varsity blue, and the best heavyweight of his year,
occupies the chambers above yours. He saw from the window the arrival of
Reginald Wilmore--which was according to instructions, as they were to
come down to Hatch End together--went down the stairs to meet him,
and, to cut a long story short, fetched him out of your office, Ledsam,
without allowing him to finish his letter. This absolute isolation
seems a curious condition, perhaps, but Hagon insists upon it, and I can
assure you that he knows his business. The mys