you say you are not Hazelton, I might have spared myself the trouble. Still, if the friend to whom I sent can get hold of a picture of Hazelton, it will be amusing to make a comparison between that likeness and yourself, just to see how strong the resemblance may be. I have an idea that Hazelton is almost your perfect double."
"It would be rather odd, wouldn't it, if it should prove so?" smiled Locke coolly. "Still, such things sometimes happen. I think I'll hustle along to the hotel. Good morning, Mr. King. Good morning, Miss Harting. I trust I'll soon have the pleasure of seeing you again at the games."
They stood there and watched his retreating figure until he passed from view round a corner. Janet's face, though showing satisfaction, was a bit haughty and accusing as she spoke to Bent.
"I hope you realize now," she said bitingly, "that you have made a big blunder."
"No," he returned, "it was that man Hazelton who made the blunder in denying his identity."
"Why—why, do you still think—"
"I haven't the slightest doubt in the world—he is Paul Hazelton. I'll prove to your satisfaction, Janet, that he is not only dishonest, but a most contemptible liar, as well."
