“How?”
“How? Why, we ain't living in fairy-books to-day. It's straight hard life. And there ain't any fools, as far as I can see, who are allowed to take up air and space. I've heard of Major Calvert, and his brains were all there the last time I heard of him—”
“What do you mean?” Garrison bored his eyes into Drake's.
“Why, I mean, kid, that blood is thicker than water, and leave it to a woman to see through a stone wall. I don't believe you could palm yourself off to the major and his wife as their nephew. It's not reasonable nohow. I don't believe any one could fool any family.”
“But I did!” Garrison was staring blankly. “I did, Jimmie! Remember I had the cooked-up proofs. Remember that they had never seen the real nephew—”
“Oh, shucks! What's the odds? Blood's blood. You don't mean to say a man wouldn't know his own sister's child? Living in the house with him? Wouldn't there be some likeness, some family trait, some characteristic? Are folks any different from horses? No, no, it might happen in stories, but not life, not life.”
Garrison shook his head wearily. “I can't follow you, Jimmie. You like to argue for the sake of arguing. I don't understand. They did believe me. Isn't that enough? Why—why——” His face blanched at the thought. “You don't mean to say that they knew I was an imposter? Knew all along? You—can't mean that, Jimmie?”
“I may,” said Drake shortly. “But, see here, kid, you'll admit it would be impossible for two people to have that birthmark on them; the identical mark in the identical spot. You'll admit that. Now, wouldn't it be impossible?”
“Improbable, but not impossible.” Suddenly Garrison had commenced to breathe heavily, his hands clenching.
Drake cocked his head on one side and closed an eye. He eyed Garrison steadily. “Kid, it seems to me that you've only been fooling yourself. I believe you're Major Calvert's nephew. That's straight.”