One day a quaint notion entered his mind, and the more he thought of it the more it dominated him. He was tall and well-made, if slim in figure, and his face had never lost the plasticity given it by his stage experience. He had only heard Philip's voice once, but his features and general appearance were now quite familiar to him, and he undertook a series of experiments with clothing and make-up to ascertain if he could personate Anson sufficiently well to deceive anyone who was not an intimate acquaintance. Soon the idea became a mania, and the mania absorbed the man's intellect. To be Philip Anson for a day, a week! What would he not give for the power! One evening, when Jocky Mason entered Grenier's apartments he started back with an oath, as a stranger approached him in the dim light and said: "Well, Mason, and what do you want?" The ex-burglar and man-slayer seemed to be so ready to commit instant murder that Grenier himself was alarmed. "Hold hard, old chap," he said, in his natural voice. "I am only trying an experiment on you." "What tomfoolery is this?" shouted the other, gazing at him with the suspicious side glance of a discomfited dog which has been startled by some person familiar to it in ordinary guise but masquerading in _outré_ garments. "A mere pleasantry, I assure you. Good heavens, man, how you must hate this fellow, Anson, if you are so ready to slay him at sight. From your own story, he only acted as ninety-nine people out of a hundred would have done in helping the cop." "What I want to know is, why you are playing tricks on me. I won't stand it. I'm not built that way." "Now, Mason, be reasonable. Can I ask anybody else if I resemble Philip Anson when made up to represent him?" "Perhaps not, but you ought to have warned me. Besides, I am worried to-day." "What has happened now?" "I went to report myself at Southwark Police Station. Who should I find there but Bradley, the chap we used to call 'Sailor.' He is an inspector now, and, of course, he knew me at once." "What of that?" "He pretended to take an interest in me, and tried to lead me on to talk about you." "The devil he did!" "Oh, I know their ways. They can't do anything to me as long as I show up regularly and keep a clean slate." "But what about me?" "I said you had been a good friend--there was no use in denying that I was here pretty often--and that we both thought of emigrating." "Good. We will." "Not me. I have a score to settle----" "Patience, my worthy friend. Your score shall be settled in full. I cannot prevent it, even if I would. Do you think I have been idle, or that I spend Langdon's money on a wild-goose chase? Not me. Langdon has taken my advice at last. He has met this charmer with whom he is so infatuated. She almost recognized him, but he pretended such complete ignorance of her, and even of London, that her suspicions were quieted." "What good is that to us?"