ince I left the
college shows: with a hundred chances to one against my success, even I
am not bored."

He hurried from the office, and Holloway noted the glow in the
girl's glance which followed his stalwart figure. Holloway was a
good tactician: there were reasons why he enjoyed this new role of
match-maker de luxe, yet he played his hand far more subtly than at
poker. Which was well!

Ensconced in the Astor, Shirley was soon busy before the cheval glass,
from which were suspended three photographs of William Grimsby, obtained
from a photographic news syndicate.

Coat and waistcoat had been removed, as he discriminatingly applied the
dry cosmetics with skill which suggested that he had disguised himself
for daylight purposes far more than he would admit. By the time he had
powdered his thick locks with the white pulverized chalk, and donned
a pair of horn-rim glasses of amber tint, his whole personality had
changed. The similarity was startling to the prototype who was admitted
to the room a few minutes later.

"Why, I beg pardon--I have come to the wrong suite," were Grimsby's
apologetic words, as he essayed to retreat.

"You are the first victim of the mirage. Do you like the caricature?"

"Astounding, my friend!" gasped Grimsby, sinking into the chair. Shirley
drew him to the mirror, to make a closer study of the lines of senility
and late hours. A few delicate touches of purple and blue, some
retouching of the nostrils, and he drew on the suit provided by his
elder. Dick Holloway was announced, and Shirley ordered some wine and a
dinner for one! At Grimsby's surprise, Shirley, smiled indulgently.

"I am selfish--I will have a little supper party by myself, and spare
you in nothing. I want you to eat, to drink, to pour wine, to take out
your wallet, to walk, to sit down, to laugh, to scold! You have a task,
sir: I will imitate you move by move! This is a rare experiment."

"Great Scott! Which is you?" cried Holloway who entered with the
burdened waiter.

"Neither. We're both me!" chuckled the criminologist. "But let me
introduce you to my twin--"

The two men exchanged formalities with an undercurrent of dislike.
Shirley lost no time. He compelled the old man to run through his paces,
as Holloway criticized each study in miming. Just as the capitalist
would swing his arms, limp with his left leg, shift his head ever so
little, from side to side in his walk, so Shirley copied him. A
word here, an exhort