Chapter 57

"You know, corporation, bow-window----" Tommy illustrated. "I see, go on." "But he looked twenty years younger. Real black hair now, little black moustache, white face--like a dude Eyetalian. Had a neat derby on, and black overcoat." "Good God!" cried Jack. "Comrade Wilde! You're sure it was the same man." "Certain sure! But it was a peach of a make-up. I wouldn't of got on to it, only he didn't walk like a fat man. He didn't lean back far enough to balance his load if it was bona-fide." "Pretty good!" said …