The two men started up the street, arm in arm. The man from the West, full of pride at his success, was beginning to outline the history of his career. The other, hidden in his overcoat, listened with interest.
At the corner stood a chemist's, brilliant with electric lights. When they came into this brightness each of them turned simultaneously to gaze upon the other's face.
The man from the West stopped suddenly and released his arm.
"You're not Jimmy Wells," he said sharply. "Twenty years is a long time, but not long enough to change a man's nose from long to short."
"It sometimes changes a good man into a bad one, said the tall man. "You've been under arrest for ten minutes, 'Silky' Bob. Chicago thinks you may have come over our way and telegraphs us she wants to have a talk with you. Going quietly, are you? That's sensible. Now, before we go to the station here's a note I was asked to hand you. You may read it here at the window. It's from Patrolman Wells.