He pulled a roll of bills from his pocket, and purchased the ticket for “Cat’s Paws.” Along with the money, he held another ticket, and the clerk smiled when he saw it. For he had sold that ticket — for a show tonight — to Chatham, the day before.
The clerk smiled as the man in evening clothes hurried from the office.
“Funny, isn’t it?” he remarked to a companion behind the counter. “That guy Chatham paid a premium price for a ticket to the show at the Embassy, tonight. The first act is half over; yet he comes in here, buying a ticket for another show, on his way to the theater.
“Some birds don’t know what it means to get in before a show starts!”
Doctor Palermo was smiling to himself as he hurried toward the Embassy Theater. He had tested the character of Horace Chatham, and it had stood the test.
The clerk at the ticket office would remember that Chatham had stopped in just before nine o’clock.
Buying a ticket for “Cat’s Paws” had been a lucky stroke. The clerk would remember that, also.
Entering the lobby of the Embassy, Palermo had another opportunity to make use of his false identity.
The assistant manager, standing by the ticket box, recognized him as Chatham, and nodded in greeting.
Palermo returned the nod, and entered the theater. There he watched the show, and remained until the final curtain.