"It's a police matter, Mr. Holmes" she cried. "I'll have no moreof it. He shall pack out of there with his baggage. I would havegone straight up and told him so, only I thought it was but fair toyou to take your opinion first. But I'm at the end of my patience, andwhen it comes to knocking my old man about-"

　　"Knocking Mr. Warren about?"

　　"Using him roughly, anyway."

　　"But who used him roughly?"

　　"Ah! that's what we want to know! It was this morning, sir. Mr.Warren is a timekeeper at Morton and Waylight's, in Tottenham CourtRoad. He has to be out of the house before seven. Well, this morninghe had not gone ten paces down the road when two men came up behindhim, threw a coat over his head, and bundled him into a cab that wasbeside the curb. They drove him an hour, and then opened the doorand shot him out. He lay in the roadway so shaken in his wits thathe never saw what became of the cab. When he picked himself up hefound he was on Hampstead Heath; so he took a bus home, and there helies now on the sofa, while I came straight round to tell you what hadhappened."

　　"Most interesting," said Holmes. "Did he observe the appearance ofthese men- did he hear them talk?"

　　"No; he is clean dazed. He just knows that he was lifted up as if bymagic and dropped as if by magic. Two at least were in it, and maybethree."

　　"And you connect this attack with your lodger?"

　　"Well, we've lived there fifteen years and no such happenings evercame before. I've had enough of him. Money's not everything. I'll havehim out of my house before the day is done."

　　"Wait a bit, Mrs. Warren. Do nothing rash. I begin to think thatthis affair may be very much more important than appeared at firstsight. It is clear now that some danger is threatening your lodger. Itis equally clear that his enemies, lying in wait for him near yourdoor, mistook your husband for him in the foggy morning light. Ondiscovering their mistake they released him. What they would have donehad it not been a mistake, we can only conjecture."