“Capital!” exclaimed Wilkinson.
He rose and waved his hand to his visitor.
“Come into my study,” he said. “You can make out your note there; and I’ll give you Palermo’s. But hold onto it, at all costs.”
The two men entered a little room that adjoined the living room. Seth Wilkinson unlocked a desk drawer, and brought out a metal box.
Before he opened the box, he handed a blank form for a promissory note to his companion. Palermo filled it out; then, noticing that Wilkinson was busy unlocking the box, the disguised physician drew a card from his pocket. The card bore Horace Chatham’s signature.
Concealing the card within his left hand, Palermo copied the signature with remarkable skill as he signed the note. Then he pocketed the card, just as Wilkinson turned toward him.
“You have dated it tomorrow,” said Wilkinson, examining the note that bore the signature of Horace Chatham.
“No,” came the reply. “It is after midnight. The date is correct.”
Wilkinson smiled as he glanced at the clock on the desk. The hands registered a few minutes past twelve.
“Here is Palermo’s note,” he said.