“Chatham, Horace,” he read, half-aloud. “Spends much time at the Argo Club.”
The physician chuckled. “A good place to be after the theater,” he observed.
One last glance in the mirror. Then Doctor Palermo stood in deep thought. He went back to the filing cabinet, and again glanced at the card that bore the name of Horace Chatham.
He referred to a list of names in the lower corner of the card, and made a quick inspection of other cards in the cabinet.
Something that he discovered there pleased him, for he momentarily forgot the part that he was playing, and his expression was far different from any that had ever been displayed by Horace Chatham. It was an ugly, leering grin, that was most evident at the corners of Palermo’s mouth.
The look passed away, and Palermo again became the double of Horace Chatham.
The physician went to the anteroom, and summoned the elevator. His face was haggard and worried as he looked at the operator.
In the hall, he summoned a cab, and stayed within the door until the vehicle had reached the curb.
Then, with a furtive glance, Palermo hurried across the sidewalk, entered the cab, and was driven away.
“Funny bloke,” observed the elevator operator, speaking to the hallman. “You’d remember him if you saw him again, wouldn’t you?”