CHAPTER II
THE TIDE TURNS
The police surgeon had just finished dressing my arm and sent me back to the cell when the door was unlocked and who should come in but the man whom I'd gone to rob the night before.
The jailer closed the door behind him and for a moment we stood looking at each other without a word said. Seen in the light of day I wondered why it had seemed like looking into a mirror when I had first sighted him at the head of the stairs. Perhaps it was the nervous tension that he had been under at that moment which had made the resemblance between us so strong, for as I saw him now he was a big, good-natured looking fellow, twenty pounds heavier than I and his face showed signs of high living.
His eyes fell on my bandaged arm.
"Are you badly hurt?" he asked.
"It's nothing much," I answered. "The doctor says your bullet gouged the bone but it's not broken. Wounds heal quickly with me."
He stared at me for an instant, then asked:—
"Who are you?"
"Can't you guess?" I answered.
He nodded. "Yes," said he, "you are my half brother."
"Not quite that," I answered. "We may have had the same father, but that doesn't mean much."
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