"I must remember that," said the man, and wrinkled his forehead exactly like Vickers.
They were standing in a doorway out of the stream of pedestrians. Suddenly Vickers' mouth fell open. He stared at the man in startled disbelief.
It was himself!
The resemblance was too perfect. The same close-cropped black hair and Jupiter-enlarged muscles. The same short, straight nose, wide, thin-lipped mouth, square jaw. Even the same transparent inner lids lowered over pale gray eyes. It was like looking into a mirror.
Vickers felt his mouth go dry.
"Who are you?" he demanded harshly.
"You recognize me? Good."
The man grinned, began to edge away.
Vickers lunged for him. But the fellow eluded his grasp, slipped into the stream of traffic like an eel. He was rapidly being swallowed up by the crowd. Vickers ploughed after him.
There was something afoot—something dangerous to himself, he felt. He was determined not to lose sight of his double and opened his nictitating lids....