Smith, feeling himself under observation, glanced up again in an unconcerned way, and as he faced the detective Fogerty gave a cleverly assumed start and exclaimed: "Good God!" Instantly Thursday Smith straightened up and looked at the man questioningly.

Fogerty stretched out his hand and said, as if in wonder: "Why, Melville, old man, what are you doing here?
We wondered what had become of you, all these months.

Shake hands, my boy! I'm glad I've found you." Smith leaned against the press and stared at him with dilated eyes.
Everyone in the room was regarding the scene with intense but repressed excitement.
"What's wrong, Harold ?" continued Fogerty, as if hurt by the other's hesitation to acknowledge their acquaintance.

"You haven't forgotten me, have you?
I'm McCormick, you know, and you and I have had many a good time together in the past." Smith passed his hand across his forehead with a dazed gesture.
"What name did you call me, sir ?" he asked.
"Melville; Harold Melville, of East Sixty-sixth street.

I'm sure I'm right.