“We’ll make identification sure,” he said, “for we both know the man, and we’ll take an officer and a warrant along with us.” Elmer Harkness was sitting on his trunk, waiting for an expressman, when the party appeared at the door of his room in a little out-of-the-way boarding-house. “I thought you were dead,” said Murray. “I wish I was,” said Harkness. He had almost fainted at the first sight of Murray, but had recovered himself quickly, and, having once decided that the case was hopeless, he resigned himself to the inevitable and spoke with a frank carelessness that had been entirely lacking when he was playing a part and trying to stick to the details of a prepared story. “Any weapons?” asked the policeman, making a quick search. “No weapons,” replied Harkness. “I’m not that kind.” “I don’t see,” said Murray, “why you waited here to be arrested.” “Why, I had a little interest in that insurance,” explained Harkness, “and I rather wanted to get it before leaving. However, waiting here was a little trying to the nerves, even if everything did seem to be going all right, and I was just about to slip up to Milwaukee until the case was settled. I ought to have gone the day Elmer was stricken.” “What Elmer?” demanded Murray. “Elmer Harkness, my cousin,” the other replied promptly. “And who are you?” “I’m Elmer Harkness, his cousin,” he returned with equal promptness. “Which of you was born at Madison, Indiana?” pursued Murray. “He was,” replied Harkness, and added, “I was born at Matteson, Illinois.” “There’s a nice pair of names for a tangle,” commented Murray as the possibilities of the situation began to dawn on him. “No wonder my inquiries failed to untangle it. Would you mind telling me how you happened to try this thing?” “No trouble at all,” returned Harkness. “It was my cousin’s scheme. He had tried to get insurance when he was living on Wabash Avenue and had failed. He had a heart trouble that was likely to culminate fatally almost any time. Still, I don’t think it occurred to him to try to beat an insurance company until we happened to be thrown together about a year ago. We were cousins, although we never had met before, and the similarity of names seemed to make a great impression on him. He had just returned to Chicago after a year or more in St. Louis, and he already had had one heart attack, with a warning from his doctor that the next would almost certainly be fatal. He was also told that the next was not likely to be long delayed. Now, I suppose you’ll think I’m lying, but I did not take kindly to his scheme, and the money alone would not have tempted me to go into it. I was sorry for his wife. He had been able to make only a bare living; he could leave her absolutely nothing. She never had had to support herself and there seemed to be mighty little chance that she could do it. I finally agreed to go into it for her sake. It looked easy and I was glad to make the try on her account.”