lt beside the motionless figure. A
careful examination revealed the man's wound to be painful though not
particularly serious, Westcott carefully redressed the wound as best he
could, then with one hand he lifted the man's head and the motion
caused the eyelids to flutter. Slowly the eyes opened, and stared up
into the face bending over him. The wounded man breathed heavily, the
dull stare in his eyes changing to a look of bewildered intelligence.

"Where am I?" he asked thickly. "Oh, yes, I remember; I was shot. Who
are you?"

"I am Jim Westcott; do you remember me?"

The searching eyes evidenced no sense of recollection.

"No," he said, struggling to make the words clear. "I never heard that
name before."

Miss Donovan came forward, the lamp in her hand, the light shining full
in her face.

"But you told me you were Mr. Cavendish," she exclaimed, "and Mr.
Westcott was an old friend of his--surely you must remember?"

He looked up at her, and endeavoured to smile, yet for the moment did
not answer. He seemed fascinated by the picture she made, as though
some vision had suddenly appeared before him.

"I--I remember you," he said at last. "You--you are Miss Donovan; I'll
never forget you; but I never saw this man before--I'm sure of that."

"And I am equally convinced as to the truth of that remark," returned
Westcott, "but why did you call yourself Cavendish?"

"Because that is my name--why shouldn't I?"

"Why, see here, man," and Westcott's voice no longer concealed his
indignation, "you no more resemble Fred Cavendish than I do; there is
not a feature in common between you."

"Fred Cavendish?"

"Certainly; of New York; who do you think we were talking about?"

"I've had no chance to think; you jump on me here, and insist I'm a
liar, without even explaining what the trouble is all about. I claim
my name is Cavendish, and it is; but I've never once said I was Fred
Cavendish of New York. If you must know, I am Ferdinand Cavendish of
Los Angeles."

Westcott permitted the man's head to rest back on the floor, and he
arose to his feet. He felt dazed, stunned, as though stricken a sudden
blow. His gaze wandered from the startled face of the motionless girl
to the figure of the man outstretched on the floor at his feet.

"Good God!" he exclaimed. "What can all this mean? You came from New
York City?"

"Yes; I had been there a month attending to some business."

"And when you left for the c