"My dear Sir Henry," I told him, "I'm immensely glad to see you!
The truth is, I've been hoping you'd be interested in our case;
but I didn't have the nerve to bother you with it!"
"And I," he admitted in his quiet way, "have been longing to take
a hand in it, ever since I first heard of Professor Holcomb's
disappearance. Didn't like to offer myself; understood that the
matter had been hushed up and--"
"For the very simple reason," I explained, "that there was nothing
to be gained by publicity. If we had given the public the facts,
we would have been swamped with volunteers to help us. I didn't
know whom to confide in, Sir Henry; couldn't make up my mind. I
only knew that one such man as yourself was just what I needed."
He overlooked the compliment, and pulled out the newspaper from
his pocket. "Bought this a few minutes ago. Saw your ad, and
jumped to the conclusion that matters had reached an acute stage.
Let me have the whole story, my boy, as briefly as you can."
He already knew the published details. Also, he seemed to be
acquainted--in some manner which puzzled me--with much that had
not been printed. I sketched the affair as quickly as I could,
making it clear that we were face to face with a crisis. When I
wound up by saying that it was Dr. Higgins who gave Ariadne three
days, ending about midnight, in which she might recover if we
could secure Rhamda Avec, he said kindly:
"I'm afraid you made a mistake, my boy, in not seeking some help.
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