The Man Who Was Two by Fred M. White

Stephen Allison, otherwise Mallison, looked eagerly at Gilette as he spoke. There was a sense of adventure and mystery in the air, and Mallison's new-found brother was not the man to turn away from anything of that kind. Once he had grasped the true inwardness of things he was keen enough to strike a blow for his injured relative. And, again, he was burning with a sense of the indignity he had received at Barros's hands. Here was a man who had done his best coldly and callously to deprive him of his name, and had not scrupled to place him in a position of dire peril. But for the accident of circumstance he, and not Raymond, might have served a term in Slagmoor. And beyond all this Stephen had his fair share of the spirit of adventure common to most Englishmen of his type.

"Oh, you can count upon me." he said. "Especially if there is anything in the way of fun going on."