It took Gammon but a moment to dart into the clerk’s room and ascertain that the person who had just gone out was Lord Polperro.  A moment more and he was out in the street.  The heavy-coated and mufflered man was walking quickly southward; he waved his umbrella to a passing cab, which, however, did not pull up.  Gammon followed for thirty yards.  Again the man hailed a cab, and this time successfully.  Just as he was about to step into the vehicle Gammon stood beside him.

“How do you do, Mr. Clover?”

CHAPTER XVII

POLLY SHOWS WEAKNESS

It was spoken with quiet confidence.  Gammon smiled as he looked steadily into the pale, thin face, which at once grew mottled with a disturbance of the blood.

“You are making a mistake, sir,” replied an indistinct voice, with an effort at dignity.

“Oh, no, not a bit of it.  Not now I’ve heard you speak, Mr. Clover.”

“I don’t understand you, sir,” sounded more clearly, the pallid visage now a muddy red and the eyes moist.  “That is not my name.  Be so good as to go your way.”

“Certainly.  I just wanted to make sure, that’s all.  No fuss.  Good morning, Mr. Clover.”

Gammon drew back.  He heard the order “Charing Cross,” and the cab drew away.

After a moment or two of irresolution Gammon walked hurriedly back to the nearest public-house, where he called for a glass of bitter and the Directory.  With the former he slaked a decided dryness of the throat, the latter he searched eagerly in the section “Court.”  There it was!  “Polperro, Lord, 16, Lowndes Mansions, Sloane Street, S.W.  Junior Ramblers’ Club.  Trefoyle, Liskeard, Cornwall.”

By jorrocks!

With thoughts tuned to anything but the oil and colour business he returned to Quodlings’ and had his interview with the head of the firm.  Mr. Quodling, senior, was a gruff, heavy-featured man, decidedly of coarse fibre; when moved he swore with gusto, and it did not take much to put him out.  At present he was in an irritable mood, and, very unlike his habit, gave scant attention to the affair of which Gammon spoke.  It would not have improved his temper had he known that the town traveller was amusing himself with the reflection that there was no trace of personal resemblance between him and his brother Francis, who, on the other hand, bore a very strong likeness indeed to—­Lord Polperro.

As soon as he could get away Gammon dispatched a telegram.  It was to Miss Sparkes, whom he requested to meet him at the theatre door that night when she left.  “Something very important to tell you.”