Mr. Hurd looked up in displeasure. “Please state your business; my time is limited,” he said. Christopher flushed a sickly green over all his yellow face. “Mr. Hurd, I came to you to have you intercede for me with my wife; she will not allow me to speak to her, and caused the servants to throw me out of the house.” The lawyer held up his hand: “First, if you wish me to take your case, I must receive a retainer; I do business in no other way.” Christopher opened his lashless eyes in a grotesque stare. “Sir! You have all of my business in your hands, and have had it for years,” answered he angrily. Mr. Hurd turned around in his office chair, and gave his caller an angry look; he touched the button at his side; a colored servant came instantly. “James, show this man out.” Turning to Christopher he said: “I have no time to be bothered with such nonsense. The idea of your trying to palm yourself off for Christopher Hembold!” he cried, with withering contempt. Christopher stalked out of the office in a rage. He went direct to his room at the hotel; he threw himself into a chair, and buried his face in his hands; his attitude expressed the utmost dejection; after a time he arose and stood before the mirror: “Is it possible that Maria did not know me?” he looked at himself scornfully: “Who would know you? You old, yellow-faced, putty baby, you!” he apostrophized, shaking his fist at his reflection. “Serves you right; serves you right, you old idiot! Fool with the ‘X’ ray, will you, trying to find out if you do know anything? I can tell you that you are a fool. Fool! fool!” he cried tragically. After a time he calmed down, and taking out his purse counted the contents. There is something akin to the ridiculous in the near association of pathos and money; they are very near neighbors, however. Christopher sighed deeply: “This is all I have left, and—when my lawyer will not acknowledge my identity, what am I to do?” He drummed impatiently upon the table with his fingers; finally he started up excitedly: “Of course! Good Lord! why didn’t I think of that!” He hauled his gripsack into the middle of the room; shirts and socks flew right and left, until he found the cathodographs, also a photograph taken just previous to his experimenting; he took them out, and placed them in a row; taking the photograph, he walked to the mirror and compared it with the reflection. “I don’t wonder that no one knew you, you old scarecrow, you!” glaring angrily at his double. The next morning he again sought Mr. Hurd; the lawyer turned angrily upon his entrance: “I do not wish to be bothered, sir,” motioning toward the door. Christopher was not to be put off in this manner; he walked up to the desk, and laid down the pictures he had brought. “Will you be kind enough to look at these?” asked Christopher in a quivering voice. Mr. Hurd glanced at them impatiently: “Well! What of them?”