It was this shortage which decided him to go back to Aura in the dual rôle of both brethren, instead of following his first impulse and going as Clive alone.
Were it known that Osmun had vanished—were it believed he had died—the trust company which was his executor would seek to wind up his estate. In which case not only his own insolvency but his theft of the $50,000 must come to light.
He trusted to time and to opportunity to make good this shortage and to cover its tracks so completely that they could not be discovered by officious executors or administrators. A few coups in the stock market would do the trick.
But until such time he must continue to stay alive as Osmun. After that it would be time enough to get rid of his Osmun-self in some plausible way and to reign alone as Clive.
Thus it was, after his return, he strove in every way to enhance his Clive popularity at the expense of Osmun. And in a measure he succeeded.
But almost at once he struck a snag.
That snag was his inability to counterfeit Clive’s glowingly magnetic personality. He could impersonate his brother in a way to baffle conscious detection. Yet, while outwardly he was Clive, he could not ape successfully Clive’s lovable personality.
Folk did not warm to the supposed Clive as they had warmed to the real Clive. They did not know why. Vaguely they said to one another that his war-experiences had somehow changed him.
They liked him because they had always liked him and because he did nothing overt to destroy that liking. But he was no longer actively beloved.
Most of all Osmun could see this was true with Doris Lane. He felt he had lost ground with her and that he was continuing to lose it. She still received him on the old friendly footing. But she showed no faintest sign of affection for him.