"What name is to be entered?" asked the surgeon.
"Clinton Kendale. He is an actor, and my cousin," he responded in a low
even voice.
He watched them while they carried forth the unconscious man.
"My first test will be with the people of this house," he muttered,
shutting his teeth hard.
Thrusting the money still deeper in his pocket, he walked boldly down
the stairs, tapping at the door to the right, which he knew to be the
living room of the family.
"I am going to give up my room," he said.
"Laws a mercy, Mr. Armstrong!" exclaimed the old lady. "What sudden
notice! I am so sorry to lose you!"
He chatted for a few moments, paid what was due her, then turned hastily
and left the place, remarking before he went that he should not need the
few things that he left in his room; that she could keep them if she
liked as remembrances.
Once again he was out on the street, with the cold wind blowing on his
face.
"Nothing ventured, nothing won!" he said, under his breath.
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