"Probably that explains it," said Luke. "Are you not Mr. Thomas, of St. Louis?"
The gentleman laughed.
"You will have to try again," he said. "I am Mr. Browning, of Milwaukee. Thomas is my first name."
"Browning!" thought Luke, disappointed. "Evidently I am on the wrong track. And yet he answers father's description exactly."
"I don't know anyone in Milwaukee," he said aloud.
"Then it appears we can't claim acquaintance."
The gentleman took his paper and turned down Randolph Street toward State.
"Strange!" he soliloquized, "that boy's interest in my personal appearance. I wonder if there can be a St. Louis man who resembles me. If so, he can't be a very good-looking man. This miserable wart ought to be enough to distinguish me from anyone else."
He paused a minute, and then a new thought came into his mind.
"There is something familiar in that boy's face. I wonder who he can be. I will buy my evening papers of him, and take that opportunity to inquire."