"Goodfellow, Templeton, and Griswold," he replied. "Dr. Templeton—a somewhat elderly and mysterious individual—is their mesmerist. I believe they are employing his powers to control Annie in the tracking of their prey. Then there is old Charley Goodfellow—a hearty, good-looking honest seeming fellow as ever slid a knife between a man's ribs. And, finally, Griswold. He is their leader and is considered rather a ruthless gentleman."

"And these men are aboard the Evening Star?" I inquired.

"So I believe," he answered.

" ... Where this Dr. Templeton is attempting to place Annie in a trance, so that she can divine Von Kempelen's whereabouts for them?"

"So I fear."

"If she is as strong as you think he may not succeed."

"Most likely they would drug her first. I know that I would."

I studied him, his back against the laboratory table, and he gave me more than casual scrutiny in return.

"So," I said after a time, "I thank you again for the timely rescue, and for the information on Annie... ."

He smiled. "And you're asking me 'Why?' " he said then.

"It's not that I disbelieve in altruism," I told him, "but you have gone to a lot of trouble on behalf of strangers."

"I'm prepared to go to a lot more," he said, "to thwart these men. And you are correct. There is a measure of self-interest involved, as in most human affairs."

I shrugged. "Results leave more of an impression than motives," I said. "I'm grateful, whatever your reasons."

"I'm a rather wealthy man," he said then.

"I'd guessed as much," I replied, sweeping my gaze significantly over the handsomely carved furniture, across the oriental rug and over a number of tasteful paintings. "So if it's not love or money it must be revenge, right?" I asked. "I'd guess one or all of these fellows did you a very bad turn at some point—"