For a minute, perhaps longer, John Aldous stood staring at the photograph which he held in his hand.

It was the picture of Culver Rann--not once did he question that fact, and not once did the thought flash upon him that this might be only an unusual and startling resemblance.

It was assuredly Culver Rann! The picture dropped from his hand to the table, and he went toward the door.

His first impulse was to go to Joanne.

But when he reached the door he locked it, and dropped into a chair, facing the mirror in his dresser.
The reflection of his own face was a shock to him.