"But how can you or any one else hope to run down a man with such

powerful followers and with a hiding-place so inaccessible?" Darrell

inquired.

"From a remark inadvertently dropped, I was led to infer that this man

spends comparatively little time with the band. He communicates with

them, directs them, and personally conducts any especially bold or

difficult venture; but most of the time he is amid far different

surroundings, leading an altogether different life."

"One of those men with double lives," Darrell commented.

Mr. Britton bowed in assent.

"But if that were so," Darrell persisted, his interest thoroughly

aroused, as much by Mr. Britton's manner as by his words, "in the event,

say, of your meeting him, how would you be able to recognize or identify

him? Have you any clew to his identity?"

"Years ago," said Mr. Britton, slowly, "I formed the habit of studying

people; at first as I met them; later as I heard or read of them. Facts

gathered here and there concerning a person's life I put together, piece

by piece, studying his actions and the probable motives governing those

actions, until I had a mental picture of the real man, the 'ego' that

constitutes the foundation of the character of every individual. Having

that fixed in my mind I next strove to form an idea of the exterior

which that particular 'ego' would gradually build about himself through

his habits of thought and speech and action. In this way, by a careful

study of a man's life, I can form something of an idea of his

appearance. I have often put this to the test by visiting various

penitentiaries in order to meet some of the noted criminals of whose

careers I had made a study, and invariably, in expression, in voice and

manner, in gait and bearing, in the hundred and one little indices by

which the soul betrays itself, I have found them as I had mentally

portrayed them."

Mr. Britton had risen while speaking and was walking back and forth

before the fire.

"I see!" Darrell exclaimed; "and you have formed a mental portrait of

this man by which you expect to recognize and identify him?"

"I am satisfied that I would have no difficulty in recognizing him," Mr.

Britton replied, with peculiar emphasis on the last words; "the work of

identification,"--he paused in front of Darrell, looking him earnestly

in the face,--"that, I hope, will one day be yours."

"Mine!" exclaimed Darrell. "How so? I do not understand."

"Mr. Underwood has told me that soon after your arrival at The Pines and

just before you became delirious, there was something on your mind in

connection with the robbery and Whitcomb's death which you wished to

tell him but were unable to recall; and both he and his sister have said

that often during your delirium you would mutter, 'That face! I can

never forget it; it will haunt me as long as I live!' It has always been

my belief that amidst the horrors of the scene you witnessed that night,

you in some way got sight of the murderer's face, which impressed you so

strongly that it haunted you even in your delirium. It is my hope that

with the return of memory there will come a vision of that face

sufficiently clear that you will be able to identify it should you meet

it, as I believe you will."




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