Yorkville enquirer. [volume] (Yorkville, S.C.) 1855-2006, 1897-06-19
Copyright, 1897, by the Author.
CHAPTER III.
A DEMONSTRATION.

BILE is that which came to London bar.
rister, who, upon returning to his lodg'
ings late one night, opened the door and
saw himself lying in his own bed. A
certain trick that he had Of reclining on
his side, with one limb drawn up anG
the right hand slightly grasping the
coverlet, was there. 1t was himself.
Conscious of something frightfully
wrong, he turned about, went down
stairs and walked a long way in the
crisp night air. When he returned. hi
bed showed no sign Of having been oc'
cupied.
Similar were my feelings when J
clasped the hand of the man that hat
stopped in front of me and extended hi
palm.
"This is not another person." J
thought; cit is myself. And my shiver'
ing was intensified when he announced
his name as Westcott.
By a terrific effort I held my identity
of feeling and in husky voice said:
"Your name is Westcott What are
your initials?"
"H. O."
Harmon o. Westcott-I know it."
"You are mistaken. It is Harold o
Westcott.
Whit! The breath Of life touched my
face Harold O. Westcott could not be
Harmon O. Westcott. I was alive. II
was not a morbid figment Of the brain.
No individual knows precisely how
his own voice sounds 1t is with o
strange emotion that he listens to its
reproduction in the photograph, even
though it is squeaky and full Of whin'
ing.
Nevertheless I knew of a verify that
the voice of the man in front of me was
my own.
His feelings must have been much
the same, for the paling Of his counte.
nance and the working of its muscles
told by what tense effort he retained
his self control and consciousness.
"You will come with me?" he re-
marked inquiringly.
"I am pleased to do So.
He wheeled squarely about and we
kept pace, side by side. The walk was
brief one, but we encountered several
gentlemen and a carriage containing
couple of young ladies whom we sa-
luted. Whether any of these persons
was struck by the perfect similitude
cannot say. Probably in the brief, i'm
perfect glances they did not notice it.
Harold O. Westcott had bachelor
apartments in q fashionable quarter.
His rooms were on the third floor, and
we ascended to them by the elevator.
Necessarily we came in contact with
several individuals with whom my COM
panion was acquainted. He exchanged
q word with them and made pleasant
remark to the elevator boy.
I did not speak or look up, but kept
my derby we'll down over my forehead
and twisted one side Of my mouth. so
as to change my countenance to some
extent. My friend noted and understood.
The expression Of his face showed that
he was pleased, for it might help to pre-
vent complications.
At last we were seated face to face IN
his handsome apartments and the key
was turned in the lock. He extended a
box of Partagas toward me, and each
Of US lit one.
"Shall order some wine?"
"Thanks; never touch it.
''Nor do L Well, my DOUBLE" he
added, with light laugh, "this beats
81 r oyrfhIncy 1jEQ
it; it is worth the minstrel's joke, that
each of us looks more like the other
than he does like himself. How old are
you?"
''Twenty-three years, four months
and seventeen days"
''That makes your birthday-let me
see''-
He snatched golden pencil from his
vest pocket and, turning to the table at
his side, figured for moment on bit
of paper.
"Well, I'm blessed!" he exclaimed in
q frightened half whisper. "You were
born on the same day as I. I doubt not
that if the truth could be known it
would be found that the hour and min
ute of our birth were the same Have
you any living relatives?"
II am an orphan without brother or
sister. I have some distant kin, but so
distant that we are strangers.
my case precisely. Under these un-
precedented circumstances we can be
confidential, for are not you 1. and
you?" he asked with his pleasing smile.
"You have more money than you know
what to do with?"
ION the contrary, have not 500 in
the world"
"Ah, here then comes the diverging
point / am rich. AS consequence l
am the prey of a lot of harpies, who
make life BURDEN
"Can't you say No to them?"
II do, but they won't accept it. They
worry me half to death; they seem to
look upon me as legitimate prey; that's
one of the curses Of wealth"
81 would like the pleasure Of dealing
with some Of those fellows" I remark
ed, COMPRISING my lips.
"That pleasure shall be yours, JoveI'
And the mental picture of what he saw
! 4 ,l