Mr. Bates said nothing. He seemed content to stare and eat.
Another minute or two elapsed. "Yes, I'm here," said the Professor suddenly, turning again to the instrument. "Thanks." A pause. "What—what's that?" Another and longer pause. "Oh, thanks very much. Yes, that's all. I shall probably see you Wednesday. I hope to look in about that Stevenson case. Yes. Good-bye."
He hung up the receiver.
"Well, Mr. Bates," said he, approaching the table, "it appears that you have spoken the truth."
Mr. Bates gulped down his last mouthful.
"Yes, sir," he said.
The Professor eyed him for a moment severely.
"It is, of course, my duty," he said, "to hand you over to the law."
"Yes, sir."
"But, being opposed to carrying duty to too logical an extreme, I am prepared to make you an alternative offer. If you would care to take the place of the professionally defunct Mr. Andrew, I am willing to give you a trial. Your work would be to devote the same care and skill to my comfort that you doubtless bestowed upon the late Mr. Houghton. Your wages will be fifty pounds a year, and I shall give you a fortnight's holiday."