“Was I?” queried the southpaw, as if not yet convinced.
“You must have been. All along I have thought it likely, but you persisted–”
“I saw her distinctly in that passing limousine, which was brightly lighted. True, I obtained only one passing glance at her, but it was enough to satisfy me.”
“You are so persistent, Phil! That’s your one fault; when you think you’re right, all the argument and proof in the world cannot change you.”
“In short, I’m set as a mule,” he admitted, smiling. “Well, there are worse faults. A mistake may prove costly or humiliating to an obstinate person who persists in his error, but, when he is right, such a person is pretty well qualified to win over all opposition. If I did not see Virginia Collier in that car, she has a perfect double in New York. I have great confidence in the reliability of my eyes.”
Janet, however, thoroughly convinced that her husband had been deceived by a resemblance, made no reply.
Lefty had looked for some word from Kennedy, but had found nothing from him in his bundle of mail. It was possible, of course, that old Jack had found it inconvenient to make the trip to New York just then; but, naturally, if he could not come on he would have let Locke know.
Lefty and Janet had not dined on the train, preferring to do so after reaching their destination. As they were passing the desk on their way to the dining room, Locke stopped short, staring at the back of a slender, well-dressed young man who was talking to one of the clerks. Then the southpaw sprang forward and clapped a hand on the young man’s shoulder.
“Jack Stillman!” he exclaimed impulsively.
The man turned quickly.