“You have nothing to say about it,” snapped Louden.
“It’s my property, isn’t it?”
“Yes, it’s your property,” assented Lampton. “But you never would have proved your right to it without our help.”
“Oh, I think I could,” snarled Milmarsh. “Carter would have helped me if I’d asked him.”
The other two men laughed derisively.
“Why, you idiot!” broke out Powers. “He would not admit that you are Howard Milmarsh.”
“His Howard Milmarsh is in a hospital in New York.”
“He doesn’t believe that man is Howard Milmarsh,” declared the man whom we will call that for convenience, as has been done before in this narrative.
“He doesn’t know who he is,” said Powers. “He took him there as Milmarsh, and, of course, he doesn’t like to have to confess that he has turned out to be T. Burton Potter, after all.”