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+The Project Gutenberg EBook of The Film of Fear, by Arnold Fredericks
+
+This eBook is for the use of anyone anywhere at no cost and with
+almost no restrictions whatsoever.  You may copy it, give it away or
+re-use it under the terms of the Project Gutenberg License included
+with this eBook or online at www.gutenberg.org
+
+
+Title: The Film of Fear
+
+Author: Arnold Fredericks
+
+Illustrator: Will Foster
+
+Release Date: July 23, 2009 [EBook #29498]
+
+Language: English
+
+Character set encoding: ISO-8859-1
+
+*** START OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK THE FILM OF FEAR ***
+
+
+
+
+Produced by Cindy Horton, Suzanne Shell and the Online
+Distributed Proofreading Team at https://www.pgdp.net (This
+file was produced from images generously made available
+by The Internet Archive/American Libraries.)
+
+
+
+
+
+
+
+
+
+                                THE
+
+                            FILM OF FEAR
+
+
+
+                                BY
+
+                         ARNOLD FREDERICKS
+
+
+
+                            AUTHOR OF
+
+                     THE IVORY SNUFF BOX, ETC.
+
+
+
+
+                        WITH FRONTISPIECE BY
+
+                            WILL FOSTER
+
+
+
+
+                              NEW YORK
+
+                          GROSSET & DUNLAP
+
+                             PUBLISHERS
+
+                        COPYRIGHT, 1917, BY
+
+                        W. J. WATT & COMPANY
+
+
+
+
+THE FILM OF FEAR
+
+
+
+
+PART I
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER I
+
+
+Ruth Morton finished her cup of coffee, brushed a microscopic crumb from
+her embroidered silk kimono, pushed back her loosely arranged brown
+hair, and resumed the task of opening her mail.
+
+It was in truth a task, and one that consumed an inordinate amount of
+her valuable time. And her time was extremely valuable. Computed upon
+the basis of her weekly salary of one thousand dollars, it figured out
+just $142.85 per day, or very nearly $6 per hour, or 10 cents per
+minute, for each minute and hour of the twenty-four. As a motion picture
+star, she had the satisfaction of knowing that she was paid a slightly
+larger salary than had been, until recently, received by the President
+of the United States.
+
+The opening of the huge batch of letters that greeted her daily across
+her dainty breakfast table was very much of a duty. It was not that she
+felt any keen interest in the numberless notes from admirers, both male
+and female, from Portland, Me., to Los Angeles, Cal., to say nothing of
+South Bend, Opeloosa and Kicking Horse between. These might readily have
+been consigned to the depths of the wastebasket unopened, unread. But
+there was always the chance that, intermingled with this mass of
+adulation, there might be a real letter, from a real friend, or a
+business communication of importance from some picture company possibly,
+prepared to offer her two thousand dollars per week, instead of one
+thousand, at the expiration of her present contract. So the mail had to
+be carefully opened, at least, even if the bulk of it was tossed aside
+unread.
+
+Her mother usually assisted her in this daily task, but to-day Mrs.
+Morton, oppressed by a slight attack of indigestion, slept late, and
+Ruth proceeded with the operation alone.
+
+She was a singularly attractive girl, combining a wholesome and quite
+unassumed innocence with a certain measure of sophistication, gained by
+daily contact with the free and easy life of the studios. Her brown eyes
+were large and wondering, as though she still found it difficult to
+realize that within four years she had stepped from comparative poverty
+to the possession of an income which a duke or a prince might readily
+have envied. Her features, pleasing, regular, somewhat large, gave to
+her that particular type of beauty which lends itself best to the
+eccentricities of the camera. Her figure, graceful, well modeled, with
+the soft roundness of youth, enabled her to wear with becoming grace
+almost any costume, from the simple frock of the school girl to the
+costly gowns of the woman of fashion. Add to this a keen intelligence
+and a delightful vivacity of manner, and the reason for Ruth Morton's
+popularity among motion picture "fans" from coast to coast was at once
+apparent.
+
+She sat in the handsomely appointed dining-room of the apartment on
+Fifty-seventh Street which she and her mother had occupied for the past
+two years. The room, paneled in dull ivory, provided a perfect setting
+for the girl's unusual beauty. In her kimono of Nile green and gold, she
+presented a figure of such compelling charm that Nora, her maid, as she
+removed the empty coffee-cup, sighed to herself, if not with envy, at
+least with regret, that the good God had not made _her_ along lines that
+would insure an income of over fifty thousand dollars a year.
+
+Ruth sliced open half a dozen more letters with her ivory paper knife
+and prepared to drop them into the waste basket. One was from a
+manufacturer of cold cream, soliciting a testimonial. Two others were
+from ungrammatical school girls, asking her how they should proceed, in
+order to become motion picture stars. Another was an advertisement of a
+new automobile. The fifth requested an autographed picture of herself.
+She swept the five over the edge of the table with a sigh of relief. How
+stupid of all these people, she thought, to take up their time, and her
+own, so uselessly.
+
+The sixth letter, from its external appearance, might readily have been
+of no greater interest than the other five, and yet, something
+intangible about it caused her to pause for a moment before inserting
+the point of the knife beneath the flap of the envelope. It was a large
+envelope, square, formal-looking. The address upon it was typewritten.
+Unlike the majority of the other letters, forwarded from the studio, it
+bore the street and number of the apartment house in which she lived.
+The envelope was postmarked New York, and was sealed with a splotch of
+black sealing wax, which, however, contained the imprint of no monogram
+or seal, but was crossed both vertically and horizontally by a series of
+fine parallel lines, dividing its surface into minute squares.
+
+Ruth observed these several peculiarities of the letter she was about to
+open, with growing interest. The usual run of her correspondence was so
+dull and uninteresting that anything out of the ordinary was apt to
+attract her attention. Slipping the ivory blade of the paper knife
+quickly beneath the flap of the envelope, she cut it open.
+
+The letter within, written on the same heavy paper as that composing the
+envelope, contained but three typewritten lines. It was not these,
+however, that instantly attracted Ruth's attention, but the signature
+appended to them. This signature did not consist of a name, but of an
+astonishing seal, imprinted upon a bit of the same black sealing wax
+with which the envelope had been fastened. And the device, as Ruth bent
+over it to make out its clearcut but rather fine lines, filled her with
+a sudden and overwhelming dismay.
+
+It was a grinning death's head, about half an inch in width, with
+eye-sockets staring vacantly, and grisly mouth gaping in a wide and
+horrible smile, made the more horrible by the two rows of protruding
+teeth. The girl almost dropped the letter, as full realization of the
+significance of the design swept over her.
+
+Hastily she recovered herself, and with trembling fingers raised the
+letter from her lap. The three typewritten lines upon the sheet were, if
+anything, more horrifying than the device beneath them. "Your beauty has
+made you rich and famous," the letter read. "Without it you could do
+nothing. Within thirty days it shall be destroyed, and you will be
+hideous."
+
+For a long time Ruth sat gazing at the words before her. In spite of
+their ghastly significance she could with difficulty bring herself to
+believe that she had an enemy in the world sufficiently ruthless,
+sufficiently envious of her beauty and her success, to be capable of
+either threatening her in this brutal way, or of carrying such a threat
+into execution. So far as she knew, there was not a single person of all
+her acquaintance who wished her ill. Her own nature was too sweet, too
+sympathetic, too free from malice and bitterness, to conceive for a
+moment that the very charms which had brought her fame, success, might
+also be the means of bringing her envy and hatred in like proportion.
+She cast about in her mind for some possible, some reasonable
+explanation of the matter, but try as she would, she was unable to think
+of anyone with whom she had ever come in contact, capable of threatening
+her in this terrible way. She had about decided that the whole thing
+must be some stupidly conceived practical joke, when she saw her mother
+cross the hall and come into the room.
+
+Mrs. Harriet Morton was a woman of fifty, handsome and youthful in spite
+of her gray hair, her years. That she had once been extremely
+good-looking could have been told at a glance; anyone seeing mother and
+daughter together experienced no difficulty in determining the source of
+Ruth Morton's charms.
+
+"Well, dear," said the older woman, with a pleasant smile. "Haven't you
+finished your letters yet?" She glanced toward the clock on the mantel.
+"You'll have to leave for the studio in half an hour." Ruth nodded,
+gazing at her mother rather uneasily.
+
+"You'll have to open the rest of them, mother," she said, indicating the
+pile of letters. "I--I'm tired."
+
+Mrs. Morton came up to her daughter and passed her hand over the girl's
+glossy hair.
+
+"What's wrong, Ruth? You look as though something had frightened you."
+Then her eyes fell upon the letter lying in the girl's lap, and she
+paused suddenly.
+
+Ruth handed her mother the sheet of paper.
+
+"I--I just got this," she said, simply.
+
+Mrs. Morton took the letter quickly from her daughter's hand and
+proceeded to read it. A look of apprehension crept into her eyes, but
+she did her best to appear unconcerned.
+
+"Some crank," she said, after she had mastered the sudden fear that
+swept over her. "I shouldn't pay any attention to it, if I were you, my
+dear. There are a lot of people in the world that have nothing better to
+do, than play silly jokes like that."
+
+"Then you don't think it amounts to anything?" Ruth asked, somewhat
+relieved.
+
+"Certainly not. Just a stupid plan to frighten you. Pay no attention to
+it. No"--she folded the letter as the girl put out her hand--"I'll take
+charge of this. Now you'd better hurry and get ready. The car will be
+waiting for you at nine, and Mr. Edwards expects to start that new
+picture to-day, doesn't he?"
+
+"Yes." The girl rose. "It's a beautiful part. I'm the daughter of an old
+music teacher, who dies in Brooklyn, and leaves me in poverty. And later
+on, it turns out he was the heir to the throne of Moravia, and I'm a
+princess. Lots of adventures, and spies, and all that. Ralph Turner is
+the lover. He's awfully good-looking, don't you think?"
+
+Mrs. Morton assented in rather a preoccupied way, as her daughter left
+the room. She was still thinking of the brutal threat which the girl had
+just received, and of the possible dangers to which she might as a
+result be exposed. Mrs. Morton by no means felt the matter to be a joke,
+in spite of the assurances she had given Ruth. The tone of the letter,
+the evident care which had been taken to prevent the identity of the
+writer from becoming known, filled her with the gravest alarm.
+
+As she sat pondering the matter, Nora came into the room, with Ruth's
+dust coat and parasol in her hands. Mrs. Morton beckoned to the girl,
+then spoke to her in a low voice.
+
+"Nora," she said, "Miss Ruth received a letter this morning, from
+somebody who is envious of her beauty and success. I pretended to make
+light of the matter, but there may be something back of it. I want you
+to watch her carefully while you are away from the house. Be on your
+guard every moment of the time. Don't let anyone come near her. They
+might try to throw acid, or something of the sort. I shan't feel safe
+until she is home again."
+
+The maid's face lit up with a significant smile. From her manner it was
+clear that she fairly worshiped her young mistress.
+
+"I'll not let anyone do her any harm, Mrs. Morton," she said, earnestly.
+"You may be sure of that."
+
+"And don't let her know," Mrs. Morton added hastily, in a low voice, as
+she saw Ruth come to the door, "that I am at all worried. She must not
+have a threat like that on her mind."
+
+The maid nodded, then turned toward the door where Ruth stood.
+
+"Well, mother, good-by," the latter exclaimed with a laugh. "You can
+open all the rest of the letters, and if you come across any more like
+that last one, please keep them. I think I'll begin a collection."
+
+Mrs. Morton forced herself to join in the girl's laughter.
+
+"There won't be any more, dear," she said, kissing the girl fondly.
+"Don't bother your head about such things. They're not worth it. And
+come home as soon as you get through."
+
+"All right, mother. We're going to the theater to-night, aren't we?
+Don't forget to get the tickets." With a smile she left the room, and a
+few moments later Mrs. Morton heard the rumble of the descending
+elevator.
+
+She sat in silence for a long time, thinking, a great fear clutching at
+her heart. Her life, she reflected, had held, until recently, but little
+of happiness. The long, weary days of poverty, when her husband,
+incapacitated by a paralytic stroke, had seen his savings slowly dwindle
+away; the death of her son, and then that of Mr. Morton himself passed
+before her mental vision. Only Ruth had been left to her, and in the
+girl's happiness and success lay Mrs. Morton's whole life and being.
+Now, that things had at last taken a turn, and the future seemed clear
+and assured ahead of her, was some dreadful tragedy to change all her
+joy to sorrow? She turned to the pile of still unopened letters with a
+sigh, afraid, almost to proceed with the task of reading them. Yet, an
+hour later, when they had all been disposed of without further threats
+against Ruth having been discovered, she breathed more easily. Perhaps,
+after all, the horrible letter was merely a silly joke. She took it out
+and examined it again with the greatest care, but no clue to the
+identity of the writer rewarded her scrutiny. The message remained
+clear, terrible, full of sinister meaning. "_Within thirty days it shall
+be destroyed, and you will be hideous!_" The grinning death's head seal
+stared up at her, fascinatingly horrible. Mrs. Morton quickly placed the
+letter in her bosom.
+
+Rising, she left the room, and proceeded to that occupied by Ruth. It
+pleased her, notwithstanding the servants, to take care of it herself.
+Mrs. Morton was passionately devoted to her beautiful daughter. In her,
+the sun rose and set.
+
+She glanced about the daintily furnished room with a smile. The
+appointments were simple, almost girlish, in spite of their owner's
+large salary. Mrs. Morton began to set the room to rights. She had
+finished making the bed, and had gone over to the dressing table to
+arrange the articles upon it, when a square of white upon the floor
+attracted her attention.
+
+It lay upon the rug in front of the dressing table, and appeared to be a
+letter of some sort.
+
+Supposing it to be something that the girl had dropped in the hurry of
+leaving, Mrs. Morton stooped and picked it up. Then a queer feeling of
+dismay came over her. The large square white envelope, the typewritten
+address, bore a singular and disquieting resemblance to the one in which
+the threatening letter had been received so short a time before.
+
+With trembling hands, Mrs. Morton tore the envelope open and removed the
+folded sheet of paper within. When her eyes fell upon the contents of
+the latter, she shuddered, and stood white with fear.
+
+There was a message in typewritten characters upon the sheet, and Mrs.
+Morton read it with a groan of despair.
+
+"_Only twenty-nine days more!_" the message said. "We shall not fail."
+Below the words grinned the frightful death's head seal.
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER II
+
+
+Mrs. Harriet Morton was a courageous woman, but when she read the second
+threat against her daughter, she was filled with instant indignation and
+horror. The thing was so appallingly mysterious, so utterly without
+reasonable explanation.
+
+Ruth had left the room but a few moments before. Certainly the letter
+was not upon the floor then. The maid, Nora, had gone with her. That
+removed her from any suspicion, even had such a thought been reasonable
+or possible, and Mrs. Morton felt it was not. The only other person in
+the apartment was Mary, their old cook, a negro from the south, who had
+been a faithful and patient member of the Morton household for over ten
+years. That she could have had a hand in placing this mysterious message
+in Ruth's bedroom seemed incredible, not to be entertained for a moment.
+And yet, there was the message, appallingly simple, direct, threatening.
+"_Only twenty-nine days more!_" Mrs. Morton shuddered.
+
+She glanced about the room. How had the letter come there? Certainly not
+by means of the door. Yet it seemed equally out of the question that it
+could have been brought in through one of the windows.
+
+There were two in the room, one facing to the front, and opening upon a
+court, the other in the rear, overlooking the yards of the houses on the
+next street. She went to the front window, which was raised only a few
+inches, and gazed out.
+
+Below her stretched the wide court, flanked on one hand by the side of
+the apartment building, on the other by the blank wall of an adjoining
+house. The latter was some ten feet from where she stood, and _there
+were no windows in it_! She turned to the window at the other side of
+the room.
+
+Here a fire escape led down to an alley at the rear of the building.
+Could it have been in this way that the letter had been delivered? The
+thing seemed impossible. Not only was the window closed, but she knew
+that the ladders did not reach all the way to the ground, the last
+section being pulled up, to be dropped only in case of fire. With a
+mystified look she returned to the center of the room.
+
+The letter grinned at her from the dresser, on which she had left it.
+Ruth must never hear of the matter, she knew. Taking it up, she placed
+it in the bosom of her dress along with the one which had arrived
+earlier in the day. Then she sat down to decide what she had best do
+next.
+
+To trifle with so dangerous a situation was no longer to be thought of.
+One message, the first, might have been a foolish joke. The second
+proved that the danger threatening her daughter was real, imminent.
+
+At first she thought of placing the matter in the hands of the postal
+authorities, but would they, she wondered, concern themselves with
+threats delivered in other ways than by mail? This second message had
+not come through any such channels. In desperation she put on her hat,
+placed the two letters in her handbag and set out to seek the advice of
+one of her oldest and best friends.
+
+Her purpose took her to a private banking house in Broad Street, upon
+the wide entrance doors of which was inscribed the name John Stapleton &
+Co. She asked to see Mr. Stapleton. John Stapleton was a man of wealth
+and influence in the financial world, and Mrs. Morton's husband had at
+one time been one of his most trusted employees. Now that Ruth had
+become to some extent a capitalist, it was to Mr. Stapleton that the
+care of her savings had been entrusted. Mrs. Morton felt the utmost
+confidence in both his sincerity and his judgment.
+
+Mr. Stapleton received her almost at once, in his simply yet richly
+furnished private office, and rising from his huge flat-topped rosewood
+desk, welcomed her warmly, and asked what he could do for her.
+
+Mrs. Morton felt confused. Her mission seemed, after all, a strange one
+with which to come to a leader of finance.
+
+"I--I am in great trouble, Mr. Stapleton," she began.
+
+"Yes?" He took her hand in his and led her to a chair. "Tell me all
+about it."
+
+Mrs. Morton explained the circumstances surrounding the receiving of the
+two letters in detail, and then handed the documents to Mr. Stapleton.
+
+"Do you think I had better place the matter in the hands of the postal
+authorities?" she said. Mr. Stapleton examined the two letters carefully
+then he shook his head.
+
+"No. At least not at present. It seems to me that your daughter may be
+in grave danger, and under those circumstances, I think your wisest
+course would be to employ a private detective, an investigator of
+matters of this character, not only to ferret out those who are
+responsible for these threats, but to take steps to protect your
+daughter from harm."
+
+"You think, then, that she is really in danger?" Mrs. Morton gasped.
+
+"I do not wish to alarm you, but I very much fear that she is."
+
+"But I don't know any private detectives," Mrs. Morton began.
+
+Stapleton looked up from the letter.
+
+"When I spoke," he said, "I had a certain man in mind. He is not a
+detective, in the usual sense of the word. You can find plenty of those,
+of course, but, while they are useful enough in the detection of
+criminals of the ordinary sort, they would probably have very little
+success in an affair such as this. The man I had in mind is a brilliant
+criminal investigator, one whose services I have more than once been
+obliged to make use of in matters of a personal nature. Some two years
+ago, for instance, my child was kidnapped, in Paris, and held for
+ransom. The entire police force of the French capital seemed powerless
+to discover his whereabouts. At last I called in Richard Duvall, and
+within a few days my boy was returned to me, and the criminals who had
+abducted him placed under arrest. It was a marvellous, a brilliant piece
+of work. I am not likely to forget very soon the mystery of the changing
+lights." He paused, and Mrs. Morton spoke up eagerly.
+
+"Give me Mr. Duvall's address," she said, "and I will see him at once."
+
+"That," Mr. Stapleton smiled, "is, of course, the great difficulty.
+Duvall, who is married, lives with his wife on their farm near
+Washington. They both have plenty of money, and he has practically
+retired from professional work."
+
+"Then of what use is it to suggest his name?" asked Mrs. Morton,
+quickly.
+
+"He had already retired," Stapleton rejoined, "at the time of my boy's
+kidnapping, but I prevailed on him to take up the case. His retirement
+merely means that he is not in the active practice of his profession.
+But exceptional cases, cases which by reason of their novelty interest
+him, he may be persuaded to undertake. I fancy this matter of your
+daughter's would prove attractive to him. It is unusual--bizarre. I
+strongly advise you to see him."
+
+"To do that, I must go to Washington?"
+
+"Yes. I will give you a letter which will insure you an interview, and,
+I hope, enlist his services in your behalf." He pressed a button on his
+desk, summoning a stenographer. "I sincerely hope that you will be
+successful."
+
+Mrs. Morton sat in silence while the letter of introduction to Richard
+Duvall was being written. Then she rose to go.
+
+"I will leave for Washington this afternoon," she announced. "I feel
+that there is no time to waste."
+
+"You are quite right. And be sure to tell Mr. Duvall that you are a
+close personal friend of mine, and that anything he can do for you I
+shall appreciate to the utmost."
+
+Mrs. Morton went back to the apartment, and made her preparations to
+start. She determined to take a train leaving at half past three, and as
+Ruth would not return from the studio until later, she called her up on
+the telephone, and told her of her sudden determination.
+
+"It is a matter of business, dear," she explained. "I will be back
+to-morrow. Good-by." The girl's cheerful voice reassured her. At least
+nothing had happened up to now, to give cause for alarm.
+
+It was only when Mrs. Morton was about to leave for the train that her
+nerves were once more subjected to a severe shock.
+
+The telephone bell rang, and she went to answer it, thinking that Ruth
+might for some reason have called her up.
+
+Over the wire came a thin, queer voice.
+
+"Beauty is only skin deep," it said. "A breath may destroy it." After
+that, silence.
+
+Mrs. Morton made a frantic effort to learn the number of the station
+from which she had been called, but without success. In a rather
+depressed state of mind, she made her way to the train.
+
+It was half past eight at night when she arrived in Washington, and she
+at once called up Richard Duvall on the telephone.
+
+To her disappointment, she learned that he was out, and was not expected
+back until late. There was nothing to do but wait until morning. She
+retired to her room, full of hope that the following day would bring an
+end to her fears.
+
+Immediately after breakfast she called again, and this time was more
+successful. Duvall himself answered the telephone.
+
+"I am Mrs. Morton, from New York," she said, eagerly. "I would like to
+come out and see you."
+
+"What do you wish to see me about?" the detective inquired.
+
+"It is a personal matter. I will explain when I arrive. I prefer not to
+do so over the telephone. I have a letter to you from Mr. Stapleton."
+
+"Mr. John Stapleton, the banker?"
+
+"Yes."
+
+"Come, then, by all means, at any hour that suits you. Mr. Stapleton is
+one of my best friends."
+
+Mrs. Morton hung up the receiver, after assuring him that she would
+start at once. Then she went out and engaging an automobile, set out for
+Duvall's place.
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER III
+
+
+Richard Duvall and his wife, Grace, lingered rather later than usual
+over their breakfast that morning.
+
+It was a warm and brilliant day in May, and the blossoming beauty of the
+spring filled them both with a delightful sense of well-being.
+
+Duvall, however, seemed a trifle restless, and Grace observed it.
+
+"What's the matter, Richard?" she asked.
+
+"Oh, nothing." Her husband picked up the morning paper. "They are still
+looking for the woman in that Marsden case, I see," he remarked.
+
+"Do you know, my dear," Grace said, "I sometimes think that you made a
+mistake in coming down here to the country to live. Your heart is really
+in New York, and every time there is a murder case, or a bank robbery,
+or a kidnapping up there, you are restless as a hen on a hot griddle
+until the mystery is solved. Why don't you take up your professional
+work again?" Duvall laid down his paper and regarded his wife with a
+look of surprise.
+
+"Because, Grace," he said, "you especially asked me, after that affair
+of the missing suffragette, to finally give up my detective work and
+content myself with a quiet existence here on the farm. You said, on
+account of the boy, that I ought not to take such risks."
+
+"Well--suppose I did. You agreed with me, didn't you?"
+
+"Yes--I guess so." Duvall once more picked up the newspaper. "But,
+naturally, I can't help feeling a certain interest in any striking and
+novel case that I may read about."
+
+"And I haven't a doubt," laughed Grace, "that you wish that you were
+back in harness again a dozen times a day. Come now--'fess up. Don't
+you?"
+
+"Sometimes," granted her husband, with a smile. "You know I loved my
+work. It always seemed to take me out of the dull routine of existence,
+and give me a new feeling of interest. I shouldn't mind if I had a novel
+and interesting case to work on right now."
+
+"Would you take one, if it were offered to you?" asked Grace quickly.
+
+"No--I guess not. I haven't forgotten my promise."
+
+"Well--I've decided to release you from that, Richard. I really think
+you need a little mental exercise and diversion. All play and no work,
+you know----" She began to arrange the dogwood blossoms she had gathered
+before breakfast, in a big vase on the table.
+
+Duvall laughed.
+
+"I'm getting along very well," he said. "Don't forget I'm expecting to
+have that corner lot planted in potatoes to-day." He rose, and coming
+over to his wife, playfully pinched her cheek. "What's the matter,
+dear?" he asked. "Are you pining for a little trip to New York yourself?
+We don't need a murder mystery to make that possible, you know."
+
+Grace shook her head. As she did so, the telephone bell in the hall
+began to ring. "That may be your murder mystery now," she said, with a
+laugh.
+
+"More likely the Clarks asking us over to dinner this evening," he
+returned, as he made his way into the hall.
+
+Grace continued to arrange her flowers. Presently Duvall re-entered the
+room. There was a curious smile upon his face. "Well," Grace remarked,
+glancing up. "Which was it? The murder case, or the Clarks?"
+
+"Neither. A mysterious woman, this time, saying that she must see me at
+once. I told her to come on out."
+
+"Ah! This _is_ serious," his wife laughed. "A mysterious woman! I
+suppose I ought to be jealous. Didn't she say what she wanted with you?"
+
+"No. But we'll know soon enough. She'll be here at half past nine.
+Suppose we go and take a look at those Airedale pups." Together they
+crossed the veranda and made their way toward the barn.
+
+Richard Duvall had changed but little since the days when he had served
+on the staff of Monsieur Lefevre, the Prefect of Police of Paris, and
+had taken part in the stirring adventures of the Million Francs, the
+Ivory Snuff Box and the Changing Lights. The same delightful spirit of
+_camaraderie_ existed between his wife, Grace, and himself, a spirit
+which had enabled them, together, to solve some of the most exciting
+mysteries in the annals of the French detective service. It had been
+nearly two years, now, since the affair of the Mysterious Goddess, the
+last case in which Duvall had been concerned, and he was beginning to
+feel that he would welcome with outstretched arms a chance to make use
+once more of his exceptional talents as an investigator of crime. Hence
+he had received Mrs. Morton's telephone call with more than ordinary
+interest.
+
+The latter had told him nothing of her reasons for interviewing him,
+contenting herself with the bare statement that she had a letter to him
+from Mr. Stapleton. This, however, had been enough to set Duvall's
+nerves to tingling and to cause him to conclude that the mysterious
+woman who desired to interview him in such a hurry came on no ordinary
+business. Hence he waited with some impatience for the arrival of half
+past nine.
+
+A few moments after the half hour, a large automobile swept up the
+drive, and Duvall, with a nod to his wife, went back to the house to
+receive his guest. She was waiting in the library when he entered.
+
+"I am Mrs. Morton, of New York," his caller began, handing him Mr.
+Stapleton's letter.
+
+Duvall read it, but it told him little.
+
+"Mr. Stapleton informs me," he said, looking at his visitor, "that you
+are in some difficulty or other, and asks that, if I can possibly do so,
+I try to help you out of it. Did he not also say that I have for some
+time past given up the active practice of my profession?"
+
+Mrs. Morton nodded, then bent eagerly forward.
+
+"Yes, Mr. Duvall. He told me that. But he also said that, when you heard
+the circumstances, you might be persuaded to assist me. I am in very
+deep trouble, and I fear that there is not a moment to be lost."
+
+"What is the nature of your difficulty, madam?" Duvall asked.
+
+"It--it concerns my daughter. I am the mother of Ruth Morton." She made
+this announcement as though she fully expected Duvall to realize its
+significance at once, but the latter's face remained quite blank.
+
+"Yes?" he replied, vaguely. "And who is Ruth Morton?"
+
+Mrs. Morton looked at him in pained surprise. The thought that anyone
+could possibly be ignorant of her daughter's fame and success seemed
+unbelievable to her. Was not Ruth's name a household word among moving
+picture "fans" from coast to coast? "Why--Ruth Morton--the motion
+picture star," she replied. "Surely you must have heard of her."
+
+Duvall smiled, but shook his head.
+
+"I never go to motion pictures," he said. "But that is of no importance.
+What has happened to your daughter?"
+
+"Nothing. At least I hope not--yet. It is what _may_ happen to her that
+frightens me so." She took the two threatening letters from her handbag
+and gave them to the detective. "These came yesterday," she said,
+simply.
+
+Duvall took the letters, and proceeded to read them with the utmost
+care. When he looked up, his eyes were sparkling with interest.
+
+"The first letter, I observe," he said, "was mailed night before last,
+at half-past six, at the general post office. How was the other letter
+delivered?"
+
+"I do not know. I found it, yesterday forenoon, upon the floor in my
+daughter's bedroom, an hour or more after she had left the house. She
+has not seen it. I kept all news of it from her, as I did not wish her
+to be frightened."
+
+"That was wise, of course," Duvall said. "But how could the letter
+possibly have been placed where you found it, without your knowledge?
+Who, beside yourself, was in the apartment at the time?"
+
+"No one but an old negro cook, who has been with me for years. I am
+quite certain that she had nothing to do with it."
+
+"And the maid of whom you speak?"
+
+"She had left my daughter's room, and come into the dining room, where I
+was sitting, before Ruth left the bedroom. They went out together. The
+note could not have been in the bedroom then, or my daughter would
+certainly have seen it. The thing seems almost uncanny."
+
+Duvall began to stroke his chin, a habit with him when he was more than
+usually perplexed. Presently he spoke.
+
+"One thing I have learned, Mrs. Morton, after many years spent in
+detective work. There is no circumstance, however mystifying it may at
+first appear, which is not susceptible of some reasonable and often very
+commonplace explanation. You find this letter on the floor in your
+daughter's bedroom. It was placed there, either by someone within the
+apartment, or by someone from without. Now you tell me that it could not
+have been placed from within. Then I can only say that someone must have
+entered the room, or at least managed to place the letter in the room,
+from outside."
+
+"That may be true, Mr. Duvall," remarked Mrs. Morton, quietly, "but when
+you consider that our apartment is on the fourth floor, that one of the
+windows of the room was closed, and the other only open a few inches,
+and that the blank wall of the opposite house is at least ten feet away,
+I fail to see how what you suggest is possible."
+
+Her words filled Duvall with surprise. If what his caller said was true,
+the case might have elements which would make it more than usually
+interesting.
+
+"Has your daughter any enemy, who might envy her her success, and wish
+to deprive her of it?" he asked.
+
+"None, that I know of. But since these two letters came, I feel
+convinced that someone, whom, I cannot imagine, _does_ feel that way
+toward her, and that on account of it she is in the gravest danger.
+Don't you think so, Mr. Duvall?"
+
+"I think it highly probable. And what, Mrs. Morton, would you like to
+have me do in the matter?"
+
+"Why--come to New York, take up the case, and find out who these
+wretches are, so that they may be prevented from doing my daughter any
+harm. There is no time to lose. They may carry out their threats at any
+moment. You will observe that in the first letter they said that her
+beauty would be destroyed '_within thirty days_.' One of those days has
+already passed. To-day is the second. At most, we have but twenty-eight
+days left in which to find out who is responsible for this outrage.
+Investigation may consume a great deal of time. I hope that you will
+consent to come to New York and take charge of the matter at once. I am
+returning this afternoon, as soon as I can get a train. Can you not
+return with me? As for the matter of expense, I place no limit upon it.
+There is nothing I would not sacrifice, to save my daughter from the
+fate they have threatened. Think what it would mean, Mr. Duvall. A
+young, beautiful, innocent girl, scarcely more than a child, to go
+through life with her beauty taken from her, made hideous by some
+fiendish device, blinded and scarred by acid, her features
+crushed--gashed by some sudden blow. Can you imagine anything more
+terrible?"
+
+Duvall thought for moment of his own lovely child, now almost three
+years old, and shuddered. Bank burglaries, thefts of jewels, seemed
+relatively of small importance compared with such a situation as this.
+His feelings of chivalry rose. He felt a strong desire to help this
+young girl.
+
+"Here is her picture," Mrs. Morton continued, taking a photograph from
+her handbag and extending it to Duvall.
+
+The latter gazed at the charming features of the young actress, and
+nodded.
+
+"She is lovely--exquisite," he murmured. "I don't wonder you feel as you
+do. I did not intend to take up any detective work at this time, but I
+have decided to assist you in this matter in any way that I can."
+
+"Oh--thank you, Mr. Duvall." There were tears in Mrs. Morton's anxious
+eyes. "I can never repay you for your kindness--never. But if you can
+save Ruth from these scoundrels, I will gladly spend----"
+
+"Never mind about that, Mrs. Morton," Duvall observed, with a friendly
+smile. "It is scarcely a question of money with me. If I had not felt a
+keen interest in your daughter's welfare, I should not have agreed to
+take up the matter at all. As it is, you need not worry about the
+expense. I am going to take the case largely because it has interested
+me, and it will be a pleasure to work it out, not only on your
+daughter's account, but on my own. You know, to me, such matters are of
+absorbing interest, like the solving of some complex and baffling
+puzzle."
+
+"Then you will go back to New York with me this evening?"
+
+"I can hardly do that, Mrs. Morton. But I can agree to call on you there
+to-morrow. It will take me some hours to arrange matters here so that I
+can leave. I do not think you need worry for a few days at least. If
+these people had meant to act at once they would not have named the
+period of thirty days in their threats."
+
+"Very well." Mrs. Morton rose, and held out her hand. "I will expect you
+to-morrow. Will it be in the morning?"
+
+"Very likely. In any event, I will first telephone to you." He entered
+the address in his notebook. "By the way, perhaps you had better let me
+keep that photograph."
+
+"Certainly." Mrs. Morton handed it to him, and he thrust it into his
+pocket. "The letters you already have?"
+
+"Yes."
+
+"Is there anything else?"
+
+"Yes. One thing. Do not tell your daughter that you have employed me in
+this case. It--it might alarm her."
+
+"Certainly not. And that leads me to say that you, on your part, will of
+course observe the utmost secrecy. Even with Mrs. Duvall."
+
+"That goes without saying, madam. My professional secrets I share with
+no one. Even between my wife and myself there is an unwritten law which
+is never broken. Unless we are working on a case together--unless she
+can be of service to me, she asks no questions. She would not speak to
+me, or even recognize me, were we to meet, while I am engaged in work of
+this sort. You need have no fear on that score."
+
+"I am very glad to know that. Were these people to suspect that I have
+placed the matter in the hands of a detective, they would be instantly
+on their guard, and all means of tracing them might be lost."
+
+"That is undoubtedly true, and for that reason, I may appear in other
+characters than my own, from time to time, disguised perhaps, in such a
+way that even you would not recognize me. Under those circumstances I
+will suggest a password--one that will not be known to anyone else.
+Should occasion arise in which I desire to acquaint you with my
+identity, without making it known to others, I will merely repeat the
+words--twenty-eight days, or twenty-seven or six or five, as the case
+may be, on that particular day, and you will know that it is I, and act
+accordingly. Is that perfectly clear?"
+
+"Perfectly, Mr. Duvall."
+
+"Very well. Then we will leave further details until to-morrow." He
+shook hands with his caller, escorted her to her automobile, then
+returned to the library and began a careful study of the two notes which
+Mrs. Morton had left with him. Here Grace found him, half an hour later.
+
+"Well," she said, coming up to him with a smile. "Shall I begin to pack
+our things?"
+
+Duvall put his arm about her.
+
+"Yes, dear," he said. "We'll leave on the sleeper to-night. You can get
+Mrs. Preston to come and take charge of the house while we are gone. It
+may be two weeks. That is, if you want to go along."
+
+"Want to go along? Why, Richard, I'm just dying for a trip to New York.
+I haven't been there since before Christmas, as you know, and I've got
+to get a spring outfit. Of course I'm going." She went gayly toward the
+hall stairs.
+
+"Then you must be ready right after lunch," he called after her.
+
+"But why so soon, if we are taking the sleeper?"
+
+"Because we are going up to town this afternoon and see a few moving
+pictures."
+
+"Moving pictures?" Grace paused at the door, an expression of the utmost
+astonishment upon her face. "Why, Dick, you never go to moving pictures.
+You've always said they didn't interest you."
+
+"We're going, just the same."
+
+"What's come over you?" Grace asked.
+
+"Nothing. I'm curious to see some of them, that's all. Never too old to
+learn, you know. If I am not mistaken, I saw a new feature film
+advertised in the newspaper this morning." He took a paper from the desk
+and glanced through it. "Here it is. Ruth Morton, in _The Miser's
+Daughter_. Have you seen it?"
+
+"No. But I've seen Miss Morton often--in pictures, I mean. She's a
+lovely creature, and a splendid actress, too."
+
+"Then this film ought to be a good one, don't you think?"
+
+Grace burst into a rippling laugh.
+
+"You're getting positively human, Richard," she exclaimed. "Here I've
+been telling you for months past what a lot you've been missing, and you
+only made fun of me, and now you actually suggest going yourself. Was
+the lady who called interested in the motion picture business?"
+
+Duvall laughed, but made no reply.
+
+"What's the mystery?" Grace went on, with an amused smile. "You haven't
+told me, you know. Has she lost her jewels, or only her husband?"
+
+Duvall raised his hand.
+
+"No questions, my dear. This is a professional matter. But I don't mind
+telling you this much, if I ever become a motion picture 'fan,' you'll
+have her to thank for it."
+
+"Really. Then I'm glad she came. I hate going alone. And it seems I
+shall also have to thank her for a trip to New York. She has my eternal
+gratitude. Now I'm going up to pack."
+
+Duvall resumed his seat, and once more took up his examination of the
+letters Mrs. Morton had left with him, but they told him little. There
+were the usual individual peculiarities in the typewritten characters,
+but that was about all he could discover. The letter paper, while of
+excellent quality, was such as might be bought at any first-class
+stationery store. The death's head seal, of course, was highly
+individual, but to trace anyone by means of it presented almost
+insuperable difficulties. To find the seal, one must of necessity first
+find its owner, and then the chase would be over. He replaced the
+letters in his pocket book, and went to his room to make ready for their
+journey.
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER IV
+
+
+Mrs. Morton returned to New York that afternoon, greatly pleased with
+the results of her trip. That she had been able to enlist the services
+of Richard Duvall gave her a sense of security. She found Ruth at home,
+safe and well, with no further threats or warnings to disturb her peace
+of mind. The girl was absorbed in her new rôle. The picture promised to
+be the most successful of her career.
+
+The following morning Mrs. Morton rose early, in order to go through the
+mail before Ruth had an opportunity to do so. The shock caused by the
+first threatening letter had passed from the girl's mind. The second she
+knew nothing of. Mrs. Morton was determined that if any more arrived,
+she should not see those either.
+
+Trembling with eagerness she opened the pile of letters, but found
+nothing. With a sigh of relief she turned away. Perhaps, after all she
+had exaggerated the importance of the matter. Half an hour later, while
+Ruth was eating her breakfast, a messenger boy arrived with a telegram,
+addressed to Miss Ruth Morton. The maid, seeing no reason to do
+otherwise, brought it to the girl as she sat at the table. Mrs. Morton,
+who had been at the rear of the apartment, hurried in as she heard the
+sound of the doorbell, but by the time she had reached the dining room,
+Ruth had already opened and read the message. She sat staring at a bit
+of yellow paper, her face pale and drawn.
+
+"What is it, dear?" Mrs. Morton cried, hurrying to her side.
+
+Ruth picked up the telegram and handed it to her mother.
+
+"Another threat," she said, quietly. "These people, whoever they are,
+seem to be in deadly earnest."
+
+Mrs. Morton took the telegram and hurriedly read it.
+
+"Even the beauty of the rose," the message said, "cannot endure for
+twenty-seven days." There was no signature to the telegram.
+
+A look of the deepest apprehension crept into Mrs. Morton's eyes, but
+she turned away, so that Ruth might not realize her fears.
+
+"Pay no attention to the matter, Ruth," she said, in tones suddenly
+grown a trifle unsteady. "It is certainly nothing more than a stupid
+joke."
+
+"Well, mother, of course you may be right, but for my part, I have a
+feeling that it isn't a joke at all, but a real and very terrible
+threat. What is to prevent these people, whoever they are, from
+attacking me--sending me some infernal machine in the disguise of a box
+or package, which, as soon as I open it, might burn or blind or
+otherwise disfigure me so that my life would be ruined?" She rose and
+glanced at herself in the mirror which hung over the mantel. Already
+there were deep circles of anxiety beneath her eyes, while the lines of
+her face, usually sweet and placid, were now those of an anxious and
+frightened woman. The first threat had upset her far more than her
+mother had realized. The one just received had intensified the effect a
+hundredfold.
+
+"But you mustn't open any packages, my child. Be very careful about
+that. And Robert must not stop the car, under any circumstances, in
+going to or from the studio. There, at least, I believe you are quite
+safe. I will have a talk with Mr. Edwards to-day, and explain matters to
+him. And here you cannot possibly be in any danger. Meanwhile, in spite
+of what you say, I still beg you not to let this matter prey upon your
+mind. I cannot, will not, take it seriously." Poor Mrs. Morton, herself
+thoroughly frightened, strove with all her might to convince Ruth that
+she had nothing to fear. She knew the girl's intense, high-strung
+nature, and feared that constant worry, ceaseless anxiety, might readily
+so work upon her as to reduce her to a nervous wreck long before the
+expiration of the thirty days named in the first threatening letter. She
+found herself wishing devoutly that Duvall would appear.
+
+As she finished speaking there came a ring at the doorbell, and Nora
+started to answer it. Mrs. Morton stopped her.
+
+"Nora," she said. "Listen to me. You are not, under any circumstances,
+to admit anyone--no matter who it is--until I have first seen and talked
+with them. Do you understand?"
+
+"Yes, ma'am. I understand," replied the girl, as she went out into the
+hall.
+
+A moment later Mrs. Morton, hearing a man's voice, hurried after her.
+Nora, with the door but slightly open, was speaking with a rough-looking
+fellow, a workman, apparently, who stood in the hallway outside. He was
+a man of thirty-five, with a reddish moustache, wearing working clothes
+and a cap. This he removed, as Mrs. Morton came to the door.
+
+"Is this Mrs. Morton's apartment?" he asked.
+
+"Yes. What do you want?" Mrs. Morton's voice and manner were far from
+encouraging.
+
+"There seems to be a leak in the plumbing somewhere on this floor," the
+man went on. "There's trouble with the ceilings in the apartment below.
+The superintendent wants me to go over the connections and see that
+everything is all right." He lifted a canvas bag containing his tools
+from the floor, and made as though to enter. Mrs. Morton, however, did
+not open the door any wider.
+
+"You can't come in now," she said. "Come back later--in an hour. My
+daughter is not dressed yet." She seemed ready to close the door
+entirely, but the man again spoke.
+
+"Can't afford to wait, ma'am," he said, with a significant smile. "I got
+every apartment in this building to go over before the end of the month,
+and there are _only twenty-seven days left_." He emphasized his
+concluding words, at the same time looking Mrs. Morton squarely in the
+eye. The words, the man's look, brought sudden recognition. Mrs. Morton
+drew open the door.
+
+"Very well," she said. "Come in." She realized that the supposed workman
+was no other than Duvall.
+
+The latter went quietly toward the kitchen at the rear of the apartment,
+and occupied himself by examining the connections of the sink. He seemed
+to work slowly, unconcernedly, whistling softly to himself as he moved
+about. His eyes, however, were very bright and keen, and no detail of
+the room, the negro cook who occupied it, or the buildings in the rear,
+escaped his attention.
+
+Mrs. Morton came back presently and addressed him.
+
+"My daughter has gone, now," she said. "You may look over the plumbing
+in the bathroom whenever you are ready."
+
+With a nod Duvall picked up his tools and followed her to the front of
+the apartment. As they left the kitchen, Mrs. Morton closed the door
+leading from it to the hall.
+
+"I want you to stay here for the next hour, Sarah," she said, as she
+left the kitchen. "If anyone rings, I will answer the bell." A moment
+later she and Duvall were in the library.
+
+The latter pretended to be busy inspecting the connections of the hot
+water radiator.
+
+"Have you received any more threats?" he asked, in a low voice, without
+turning his head.
+
+Mrs. Morton took the telegram that Ruth had received a short time
+before, and placed it in his hand.
+
+"This came half an hour ago," she said, without further comment.
+
+Duvall read it, then thrust it into his pocket.
+
+"Did your daughter see it?" he asked.
+
+"Yes. It had been delivered to her before I could prevent it."
+
+"That is too bad. Was she much upset?"
+
+"Yes. The thing is beginning to get on her nerves."
+
+Duvall rose, and placed his tools in the kit.
+
+"Please take me to your daughter's bedroom," he said. Mrs. Morton led
+the way.
+
+The room was a fairly large one, situated in an ell at the rear of the
+building. Of its two windows, one, as has already been pointed out,
+overlooked the court between the apartment building and the house next
+door. The other faced toward the rear. Duvall placed his kit of tools
+upon the floor, and began an examination of the room. After a quick
+glance about, he turned to Mrs. Morton.
+
+"Where was the letter found--the one that did not come through the
+mails?"
+
+"Here." Mrs. Morton indicated a spot on the floor near the small
+enameled dressing table that stood against the east wall of the room.
+Its position was midway between the two windows. It was clear that
+whoever had entered the room might have done so through either of the
+windows; at least, the position in which the dressing table stood
+afforded no indication as to which one it might have been.
+
+"Which of the two windows was open, when you found the letter?" Duvall
+asked.
+
+Mrs. Morton indicated the one facing the court.
+
+"This one," she said. "Not wide open. Perhaps six or eight inches."
+
+"The other was not fastened, I suppose?"
+
+"No. Ruth always keeps it raised during the night, but usually closes it
+while dressing."
+
+Duvall went to the window, and opened it. It was well balanced and moved
+easily.
+
+"Anyone coming up by way of the fire escape could, of course, have
+raised the window from the outside, and closed it again after leaving
+the room," he said, more to himself than to Mrs. Morton. Then he got out
+on the fire escape and made a careful examination of its surface.
+
+"When was this ironwork painted?" he asked Mrs. Morton, through the
+window.
+
+"About ten days ago."
+
+"H--m." Duvall examined the newly painted iron surface with rather a
+blank expression. That anyone had walked upon it since it had received
+its newly applied coat was, he felt, out of the question. The paint was
+so new, so shiny, so yielding in its fresh glossiness that, even
+treading as lightly as he could, the marks of his shoes were plainly
+visible. He leaned over and pressed the palm of his hand upon the grated
+iron floor. The pressure of his hand was sufficient to dull the freshly
+painted surface. It seemed impossible that anyone, even in bare or
+stockinged feet, could have been upon the fire escape, without having
+left tell-tale marks upon it. He re-entered the room, and turned his
+attention to the other window.
+
+Here the opportunities for entrance seemed even more unfavorable. The
+window was situated on the fourth floor. There was still another floor
+above, with a window similarly located. Anyone might, of course, have
+been lowered from this window above, to the sill of the one at which he
+now stood, and entered the room in that way. He examined with care the
+white woodwork of the window sill, also freshly painted. It showed no
+marks. This, of course, was not conclusive. He determined to investigate
+the occupants of the apartment on the top floor.
+
+The wall of the brownstone dwelling house next door, which formed the
+east side of the narrow court, was of brick, covered with ivy. There
+were no windows in it whatever. Apparently it had once adjoined the wall
+of a similar house, where the apartment building now stood, and when the
+second house had been torn down to make way for the new building, the
+partition wall had remained as originally built, without windows.
+
+Duvall examined this house next door with a great deal of interest. It
+was four stories high, with an attic, and rose to almost the same height
+as the fifth floor of the apartment house, owing, no doubt, to its
+ceilings being somewhat higher. In the sloping roof of the attic were
+three small dormer windows, facing the court, but the nearest one was
+perhaps twenty feet from the window of Ruth's room, in a horizontal
+direction, and some eight or ten feet above it. There was no way in
+which anyone could have passed from the attic window to that of Ruth's
+room, even supposing such a person to be an expert climber. Anyone
+lowered from this window by means of a rope would merely have found
+himself hanging against a bare brick wall, twenty feet from the window
+of the girl's room. Duvall, accompanied by Mrs. Morton, made his way
+back to the library.
+
+"You feel quite certain about the cook?" he asked.
+
+"Sarah?" Mrs. Morton smiled. "What do you think? You've seen her."
+
+"She certainly appears to be above suspicion," Duvall replied. "But one
+can never be sure. Suppose you send her out on some errand. I should
+like to search her room."
+
+Mrs. Morton left him for a few moments, and presently the old colored
+woman passed down the hall and left the apartment. Then Duvall,
+accompanied by Mrs. Morton, made a thorough examination of the woman's
+room.
+
+His search disclosed nothing of interest, nor was a similar search of
+the room of Nora, the maid, productive of anything that could in any way
+connect her with the mysterious warnings. There remained only the
+occupants of the fifth floor apartment. Duvall requested Mrs. Morton to
+summon the janitor of the building, and explain to him, in a guarded
+way, that he wished to ask him certain questions.
+
+The janitor proved to be a good-natured fellow, who seemed extremely
+anxious to please Mrs. Morton in every possible way. In answer to a
+question from the latter, he said that the apartment on the top floor
+was vacant, and had been vacant for nearly two months.
+
+The family that had occupied it, he explained, had moved away, and had
+requested the management of the building to sublet it. This they had not
+yet succeeded in doing.
+
+"May I go up and look it over?" Duvall asked.
+
+"Sure you may," the janitor replied, and he and Duvall went to the
+elevator, leaving Mrs. Morton waiting in the library.
+
+The apartment on the top floor had been newly done over, and smelt of
+fresh varnish and paint. The shiny floors had scarcely been walked upon,
+since they had been refinished. The air was close and warm, by reason of
+the tightly closed windows. Duvall proceeded at once to the room
+directly over Ruth's bedroom.
+
+To his disappointment the two windows were not only closed and fastened,
+but so tightly stuck on account of the fresh paint that it required the
+combined efforts of the janitor and himself to open them. That they had
+been opened, since the painting had been done, some ten days before, was
+clearly out of the question. Duvall made up his mind at once that
+however the person who had placed the mysterious message in Ruth's room
+had effected his or her entrance, it had not been by way of the
+apartment on the top floor.
+
+Somewhat disappointed, he went to the floor below, and thanking the
+janitor for his kindness, rejoined Mrs. Morton.
+
+"What have you discovered, Mr. Duvall?" the latter asked, eagerly.
+
+"Nothing, so far. I confess the thing is somewhat of a puzzle."
+
+"Someone _must_ have been in Ruth's room."
+
+"Not necessarily."
+
+"But--why not?"
+
+"You will remember that you found the letter on the floor. That would
+seem to me to indicate rather the opposite. If anyone had actually been
+_in_ the room, they would have been far more apt to place the message on
+the dressing table. That it was found upon the floor indicates to my
+mind that it was in some way inserted--thrown, perhaps--through the
+window from without." He took the letter in question from his pocket,
+and sitting down, gazed intently at the surface of the envelope.
+Presently he passed it over to Mrs. Morton. "What do you make of that?"
+he said, indicating with his finger a curious row of indentations,
+extending in a semi-circular line about midway of one of the longer
+edges of the envelope.
+
+The marks were very faint, but by turning the letter about in the light,
+Mrs. Morton at last managed to make them out. What they were, how they
+had been placed there Duvall could not say. Yet their presence indicated
+something of value, of that he felt sure.
+
+"I don't understand them at all," Mrs. Morton replied, returning the
+letter to him. "It looks as though someone had held the letter in a--a
+pair of pincers."
+
+The suggestion conveyed by her words interested Duvall greatly. The same
+thought had been forming in his own mind.
+
+He rose to his feet, his eyes shining with interest. Why could not such
+a pair of pincers or forceps have been attached to a long pole, such as
+a fishing rod, and the letter in this way pushed through the window and
+released by pulling on a cord attached to one of the forceps' handles?
+The thing was perfectly practical, except for the fact that there seemed
+no place from which such a pole or rod might have been extended. He
+gazed out of the library window, across the court to the row of dormer
+windows in the house opposite. The distance from the nearest of them, to
+Ruth's window was, as he had before observed, at least twenty feet
+horizontally, or some twenty-three feet on the diagonal. Then there was
+the distance from the window to the dressing table, at least eight feet
+more, to be added, making necessary a rod over thirty feet long. And he
+saw at a glance that even could a rod of this length be secured and
+handled, the angle made by a line from the dormer window through Ruth's
+window was such that the end of the rod or pole would strike the floor
+only a few feet beyond the windowsill, and in no possible way could its
+further end be elevated sufficiently to deposit the letter in front of
+the dressing table. The thing was manifestly out of the question, even
+had the window of the girl's room been _wide open_. And Mrs. Morton had
+assured him with the greatest positiveness that it had been open, at the
+time the letter was found, _but a few inches_. He returned the letters
+to his pocket and rose.
+
+"The thing is astonishing--remarkable," he said to Mrs. Morton, who was
+regarding him intently. "I confess that so far I am quite in the dark. I
+feel sure that whoever entered the room, or left the message, must have
+done so by means of the fire-escape, and yet, how was it possible,
+without marks having been left upon the paint? I think I shall make
+another and even more careful examination, in the hope that some slight
+clues may have escaped me." He once more made his way toward the girl's
+room, followed by Mrs. Morton.
+
+The room was precisely as they had left it. The window facing to the
+rear was wide open, Duvall having omitted to close it after his
+examination of the fire escape. The window fronting on the court was
+raised perhaps six inches. And yet, to the utter amazement of them both,
+there lay on the floor of the room, near its center, a square white
+envelope, addressed in typewriting to Ruth Morton.
+
+Duvall sprang forward and seized it with an exclamation of astonishment.
+It bore the same seal, in the same black wax, and upon it was the same
+semi-circular row of indentations. He tore the letter open. Its
+typewritten message was brief but significant. "Only twenty-seven days
+more," it read. The grinning death's head seal seemed to Duvall's
+astonished eyes even more terrifying than before.
+
+With a bound he reached the rear window, and swung himself upon the fire
+escape. There was no one in sight. The gray surface of the ironwork
+showed not the slightest scratch, save those made by his own heels
+earlier in the day. The steps of the ladder leading up to the next floor
+were glistening, immaculate. Those of the one to the floor below were
+equally so. He re-entered the room, and going to the opposite window,
+threw it wide open. The three dormer windows of the adjoining house were
+gray, dusty, as though they had not been opened for years. He turned to
+his companion with a look of amazement.
+
+"In all my experience, Mrs. Morton," he said, "I do not think that I
+have ever encountered anything quite so astonishing. That letter must
+have been placed there while I was in the apartment above. Your cook,
+your maid, are out. Certainly you did not place it there yourself. And
+yet we know that someone has been in this room, or at least delivered
+the letter, during the past fifteen minutes. Had I not found it here
+myself, I should have been almost tempted to disbelieve it, but I am
+forced to admit its truth."
+
+Mrs. Morton stood wringing her hands.
+
+"It--it seems almost supernatural," she exclaimed. "Poor Ruth. What are
+we to do?"
+
+"There is nothing supernatural about the matter, madam," Duvall
+remarked. "I don't doubt the explanation is simple enough, could we but
+hit upon it. But so far I confess I am unable to understand it." He went
+over to the wall which adjoined that of the house next door, and sounded
+it, inch by inch, with a small hammer he took from his bag of tools. The
+operation required several minutes. When he had completed it, he tossed
+the hammer back into his kit in disgust. "Brick, of course," he said,
+"and perfectly solid." He turned toward the door. "What are you going to
+do now?" Mrs. Morton asked.
+
+"Try to find out something through this telegram. And also, investigate
+the house next door."
+
+"But, you will come back? I am afraid."
+
+"I shall be at your call at all times, Mrs. Morton. If anything of
+interest occurs, notify me here." He drew a card from his pocket and
+wrote upon it the name of his hotel. "Say nothing to your daughter about
+these new threats. I shall probably see you again later in the day."
+Shouldering his kit of tools, Duvall left the apartment. He was by no
+means satisfied with the results of his visit. In fact there had
+apparently been no results at all.
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER V
+
+
+Duvall's first move, after leaving Mrs. Morton's apartment that morning,
+was to enter the taxicab which had been waiting for him at the door and
+return to his hotel. A light overcoat which he had in the vehicle
+concealed his workman's disguise sufficiently to enable him to reach his
+room without exciting comment. Once there, he changed his clothes,
+putting on a professional looking frock coat, and adjusting a pair of
+shell-rimmed eyeglasses to complete the slight disguise. Thus equipped,
+he once more set out.
+
+Grace had left a note for him, saying that she had gone shopping. Beside
+it lay the photograph of Ruth Morton, which he had, he remembered, left
+on his chiffonier while putting on his workman's clothes that morning.
+At the foot of her hastily written note Grace had added a postscript.
+"Is _this_ the reason for your sudden interest in motion pictures?" it
+read. "Well, I'll admit she's a raving beauty, Richard, but I'll bet she
+isn't half as nice as I am." Duvall read the note with a smile. Grace
+was always such a thoroughly good comrade.
+
+Leaving the hotel, he went to the telegraph office from which the
+message to Ruth Morton had been delivered that morning. It was on
+Columbus Avenue, some four blocks from the Mortons' apartment.
+
+"Can you tell me where this telegram was sent from?" he asked. The
+message showed that it had been filed, as well as delivered, within the
+city limits.
+
+The man behind the desk looked up his records.
+
+"It was sent from the main office on lower Broadway, at 8.30," he said,
+briefly.
+
+Duvall thanked him, then turned away. Although he realized that he could
+scarcely hope to obtain even a scanty description of the sender of the
+telegram from the main office, he determined to go there. First,
+however, he walked back toward the Mortons' apartment, and going up the
+steps of the brownstone house adjoining, rang the doorbell.
+
+A neat maid-servant opened the door. Duvall favored her with a smile, at
+the same time taking a notebook and pencil from his pocket.
+
+"I am making some corrections in the city directory," he said. "Will you
+please give me the names of all the persons living in this house." The
+girl stared at him for a moment, but his prosperous appearance, his
+businesslike manner, disarmed any suspicion she may have felt.
+
+"There's--there's Mr. William Perkins," she said, "and Mrs. Perkins, and
+Mr. Robert, that's Mr. Perkins' son, and--and Miss Elizabeth, although
+she's away at boarding school, and--and Emily Thompson, the cook,
+and--and me. My name's Mary. Mary Wickes."
+
+"Thank you, Mary," Duvall replied, entering the names carefully in his
+notebook. "And Mr. Perkins, the elder Mr. Perkins, I mean, is he the
+lawyer?"
+
+"No, sir. It's Mr. Robert that's the lawyer, sir. Mr. William Perkins is
+in the leather business."
+
+"Ah, yes. I see. Thank you very much indeed. And there are no boarders,
+or other persons whatever living in the house?"
+
+"No, sir. Not any, sir."
+
+Duvall closed his book and put it carefully in his pocket.
+
+"Now, Mary," he continued. "Just one more question. Does any one sleep
+in the attic?"
+
+"The attic, sir? Why, no sir. Cook and I sleep on the fourth floor, sir,
+but the attic isn't used, except for storage, sir. Are you going to put
+that in the directory too, sir?" The girl regarded him with wondering
+eyes.
+
+"No, Mary. Not in the directory. But we want to be sure not to omit any
+names, and I thought that if there was anyone living in the attic----"
+he paused.
+
+"No one, as I've told you. Nobody ever goes up there, so far as I know.
+Is that all, sir?"
+
+"Yes. That's all. Thank you. Good morning."
+
+Duvall went down the steps, and proceeded to the subway station,
+somewhat mystified. He had handled many curious cases in the past, many
+that had been notable for their intricacy, their complexity of motive
+and detail. But here, he felt, was a case of a very different sort, the
+peculiarity of which lay in its astonishing lack of clues of any sort.
+Usually in the past there had been motives, evidence, traces of some
+kind or other, upon which to build a case. Here there was nothing,
+except the three mysterious letters, the one equally mysterious
+telegram. He felt baffled, uncertain which way to turn. In rather a
+dissatisfied frame of mind he made his way to the telegraph office in
+lower Broadway. There were several clerks engaged in receiving messages.
+He approached one of them.
+
+"This telegram," he said, holding out the slip of yellow paper Mrs.
+Morton had given him, "was sent from this office at half past eight this
+morning. Can you by any chance give me a description of the person who
+sent it?" He leaned over and addressed the clerk in a low tone. "I am a
+detective," he said. "The telegram is part of a blackmailing scheme."
+
+The man looked at him for a moment, and then consulted with an older
+man, evidently his superior. The latter came forward.
+
+"I received this message myself, sir," he said. "I remember it, because
+of its peculiar wording. What is it you wish to know?"
+
+"I would like a description of the person who sent it," Duvall told him.
+
+The man thought for a moment.
+
+"I'm not able to tell you much," he said. "It was a woman--I didn't
+notice particularly whether she was young or old. In fact, she didn't
+give me a chance, just laid the message and the money down and went
+right out. She evidently knew the rate, for the amount she left was
+correct. I took the message and read it, without noticing her
+particularly, and then, when I had finished reading it and looked up,
+she had gone."
+
+"Then you can't tell me anything about her?" Duvall asked, greatly
+disappointed.
+
+"Not a thing. I remember it was a woman, and my general impression is
+that she was rather young and small, but I can't be at all sure. You
+see, sir, a great many persons come in, during the day, and we haven't
+time to take note of them particularly. As I say, I read the telegram
+first, and counted the words. By that time she had left the office."
+
+Duvall thanked the man for his information and made his way to the
+street. Something at least had been gained. The person who was hounding
+Ruth Morton was a woman.
+
+By this he was not at all surprised. He had felt for some time that
+Ruth's enemy was, in all probability, some jealous and envious movie
+actress who, herself unsuccessful, resented the youth and beauty of her
+successful rival. He called a taxi and directed the driver to take him
+out to the studio of the company with which Ruth was connected. Here, in
+all probability, was to be found the woman he sought.
+
+The journey consumed considerably over an hour, and it was lunch time
+when he finally drew up before the entrance to the series of studio
+buildings. Before entering he went to a nearby restaurant to get a bite
+to eat.
+
+It was a small and rather cheap place, but at this hour was crowded with
+the employees of the big company. Duvall at first could not find a seat,
+but presently discovered one at a table not far from the door, at which
+were seated some young men, apparently stenographers or clerks.
+
+While waiting for his order of sandwiches and milk, the detective
+occupied himself with a newspaper. He was not reading it, however,
+although he pretended to be deeply engrossed in its contents. He was in
+reality listening to the gossip of the studio, which rose in a chorus
+about him.
+
+From a nearby table came the voice of a woman, evidently a great admirer
+of Ruth Morton.
+
+"I tell you," she said, "that new film that she finished last week, An
+American Beauty, is going to be a knockout. She's the swellest thing on
+the screen. Got 'em _all_ faded, _I_ think."
+
+"Think so?" questioned one of her companions. "I'm pretty strong for
+Helen Ward, myself."
+
+"Ruth Morton won't last," remarked a third, in a petulant voice.
+
+"Course she'll last. Say--ain't that a bear of a title? An American
+Beauty. She always seems like a beautiful big rose, to me."
+
+"Well, roses don't last, do they?" asked the petulant voice again. "Not
+very long, anyway."
+
+Duvall turned suddenly in an effort to see the face of the speaker, but
+try as he would, he was unable to do so. Two of the girls sat with their
+backs to him. He could not manage to catch a glimpse of either of them.
+Almost as he turned, the three rose and made their way to the street.
+For a moment he thought of following them, but the idea seemed absurd.
+These twelve dollar a week stenographers or clerks could have no part in
+the plot against Miss Morton. And yet, there was something startling in
+the young woman's words. "Roses don't last." The telegram received by
+Ruth Morton that morning had contained almost the same phrase. "Even the
+beauty of the rose cannot endure." Then he remembered the title of the
+new film of which the girls had spoken, and smiled at his own
+suspicions. "An American Beauty." It would be natural, perfectly natural
+for anyone to refer to Ruth as a rose, with that title for her latest
+picture. He dismissed the matter from his mind, and proceeded to make a
+hasty lunch.
+
+[Illustration: He was watching, not only Ruth, but those about her]
+
+At the entrance of the studio he explained that he was a writer of
+special articles for the Sunday papers, and had come to "write up" the
+life at the studios. He was promptly turned over to one of the officials
+who, after a few inquiries, seemed delighted at the opportunity to
+obtain free publicity for his company and its stars.
+
+"I want particularly to give a sketch of Miss Ruth Morton," he said.
+"She seems to be such a universal favorite."
+
+"A most delightful and charming woman," his companion asserted, with a
+pleased smile. "Come this way. You may be able to see her at work." He
+led Duvall down a long corridor, and into one of the big studio rooms.
+
+The first impression Duvall got was that of utter confusion. People were
+darting here and there, in ordinary clothes, or in all sorts of makeups.
+Stage carpenters were creating a terrific racket, building a new scene.
+A tangle of electric light cables, a blinding glare from the arcs, a
+confusion of voices, a wilderness of scenery and "props" all combined to
+create an impression quite the reverse of what he had expected. Here, he
+felt, was something very different from the theater, something bigger,
+yet more elemental, in which vast sums were expended daily to amuse a
+vaster indeed, a world-wide, audience. He sat down upon a box, and
+inspected the scene before him.
+
+"Miss Morton will be on in a few moments," his guide said.
+
+Duvall nodded. His attention was fixed upon the little drama going on
+before him. He knew nothing of the plot of the play, but the mechanical
+features of the operation held his interest keenly. The brilliant
+electric lights, the setting of the little room, the actors in their
+ghastly greenish makeups, the camera man, grinding stolidly away at his
+machine, the director, hovering about like a hawk, watching every
+movement, every gesture, with a superlatively critical eye, all spoke to
+him of a new world, and one with which he was not in the least familiar.
+
+Suddenly he saw the lovely face of Ruth Morton, as the girl appeared
+from an open doorway. She did not take part in the picture at once, but
+stood chatting with the director, awaiting the moment when she would
+make her entrance. Duvall watched her intently. Her face, he thought,
+was drawn, nervous, her expression one of fear. She seemed suspicious of
+every one who came near her, as though she suspected that every stage
+hand, every electrician or helper, had in his possession a bottle of
+vitriol, which he only awaited the moment to hurl in her face. That the
+girl's nervous manner, her strained and tense expression, was evident to
+others as well as to himself, he realized from a remark his companion
+made to him.
+
+"Miss Morton doesn't seem herself to-day," he said. "She must have
+something on her mind. I shouldn't be surprised if she has been working
+too hard lately."
+
+Duvall made no reply. He was watching, not only Ruth, but those about
+her. In particular he observed the other women in the cast. It seemed
+not improbable that among them he would find the one whose envy had led
+to the sending of the threats Ruth had been receiving.
+
+Presently the scene was finished, and Ruth, in response to a call from
+Duvall's companion, came toward them.
+
+"Miss Morton," the latter said, "let me present Mr. Richards." This was
+the name Duvall had given. "He is anxious to meet you, and write you up
+for one of the newspapers."
+
+Ruth gave him her hand with a smile which Duvall saw clearly enough was
+forced. The girl was palpably worn, _distrait_.
+
+"I'm not going to interview you now, Miss Morton," he said. "I can
+understand that you must be tired, after posing all the morning. Let me
+come and see you sometime when you are more at leisure."
+
+[Illustration: "Come to my house some evening, and I'll tell you all
+about being a 'movie' star"]
+
+She thanked him with a smile, this time quite genuine.
+
+"I'm not feeling very well this afternoon," she said. "Come to my home
+some evening, or better still, on Sunday, and I'll tell you all I know
+about being a 'movie' star. So glad to have met you." She was just about
+to turn away, when a small boy came up, carrying in his hand a flat
+package, wrapped in brown paper. Duvall observed that the package had
+upon it a typewritten address.
+
+"Something for you, Miss Morton," he said, and placed the package in
+Ruth's hand.
+
+The girl looked at it for a moment in dismay. Then realizing that the
+eyes of the two men were bent curiously upon her, she recovered herself
+and tore open the brown paper envelope. Duvall, with one eye on the boy,
+saw that he had disappeared through the door leading to the company's
+executive offices.
+
+Suddenly Ruth, who had been examining the contents of the package, gave
+a faint cry, and swayed backward, as though about to fall. Duvall's
+companion sprang to her assistance, while Duvall himself snatched the
+object which had so affected her from her hand and hastily examined it.
+
+It was a photograph of Ruth Morton herself, but Duvall, as he gazed at
+it, comprehended instantly the effect it had produced upon the girl's
+over-wrought nerves. Some clever hand had been at work upon the
+photograph, retouching it, changing its lovely expression, until the
+portrait, instead of being a thing of beauty, grinned up at him in
+frightful hideousness. The blank, sightless eyes, the haggard cheeks,
+the thin wasted lips, the protruding and jagged teeth, all created an
+impression shocking beyond belief. And yet, the result had been obtained
+by the addition of but a few simple lines and shadows.
+
+Along the blank space at the bottom of the picture a line of typewritten
+characters had been placed. Duvall glanced at them. "As you will look
+soon," the words read. Below them was fixed the grinning Death's head
+seal. Unobserved in the confusion, Duvall thrust the photograph into his
+pocket, and turned to Ruth and the others.
+
+The girl had recovered herself by now, and was being conducted to her
+dressing room by a solicitous crowd. So far as Duvall would see, she had
+said nothing to those about her as to the cause of her sudden
+indisposition, and with the exception of the man who had been Duvall's
+guide, none of them had observed the opening of the package containing
+the photograph, nor its immediate effect upon her.
+
+The latter, however, whose name was Baker, came over to Duvall and
+addressed him.
+
+"What was it about that photograph that upset Miss Morton so?" he asked.
+"And what has become of it?"
+
+Duvall drew him to one side.
+
+"Let us go to your office, Mr. Baker," he said. "I have a most important
+matter to discuss with you."
+
+Baker regarded the detective for a moment in surprise, then, seeing that
+Duvall was very much in earnest, he led the way to his private office.
+
+"I am not a newspaper writer, Mr. Baker," Duvall said, as soon as they
+were seated. "As a matter of fact, I am a detective, in the employ of
+Mrs. Morton, Ruth Morton's mother."
+
+"A detective?" he questioned. "Why has Miss Morton's mother employed a
+detective?"
+
+"Because someone is persecuting the girl, by sending her threatening
+letters, saying that her beauty is to be destroyed. This photograph"--he
+drew the hideous picture from his pocket--"is a sample of their work."
+
+Mr. Baker regarded the photograph for a moment in silence, then rose
+with a growl of rage and struck his clenched fist upon the desk.
+
+"This is outrageous--damnable!" he cried. "It cannot go on. No wonder
+the poor girl looked tired out. We will put the matter in the hands of
+the police. We will spend any amount of money----"
+
+"Wait a moment, Mr. Baker," Duvall interrupted, urging the angry man
+back into his chair. "Nothing is to be gained by giving any publicity to
+this matter. The scoundrels who are at the bottom of it will at once be
+warned, and then our chance of catching them will be small indeed. So
+far, not a soul knows that I am working on this case, outside of Mrs.
+Morton, and yourself. Even Miss Ruth does not know it. I have already
+unearthed some very surprising things connected with the case, although
+I have been occupied with it only since this morning. Within a few days,
+I have no doubt, I shall be able to place my hands upon the person or
+persons responsible for the trouble, but I must insist that I be given a
+free hand."
+
+"But," Mr. Baker expostulated, "she may be in immediate danger. At any
+moment something may happen that would ruin her beauty, and
+incidentally, ruin us as well. She is our star attraction."
+
+"I do not think the danger is immediate," Duvall replied gravely. "All
+the threats so far received set thirty days as the period within which
+the attack is to be made. Only three days have passed, so far. And in
+addition, Miss Morton is being very carefully guarded."
+
+"She certainly shall be while she is here at the studio," Mr. Baker
+exclaimed. "But, man, something ought to be done--at once."
+
+"The first thing to be done is to find out how that photograph got
+here--who brought it--and when. It was not delivered by mail. Look
+here." He handed the angry official the torn manilla envelope, which
+Ruth, in her excitement, had dropped upon the floor.
+
+Mr. Baker regarded it for a moment in angry silence, then pressed an
+electric button upon his desk. A young woman responded.
+
+"Send Jim here," he said. The girl nodded and withdrew.
+
+A few moments later a freckled-faced boy of twelve or fourteen came in.
+Duvall saw that it was the same boy who had brought in the photograph.
+
+"You sent for me, sir?" he asked.
+
+"Yes. Where did you get the package you delivered to Miss Morton a
+little while ago?"
+
+"From Mr. Curry, sir."
+
+"Good." Mr. Baker rose and went toward the door. "Come with me," he said
+to Duvall, "and you too, Jim." The three of them went along the
+corridor, arriving presently at the main entrance to the building. An
+elderly man sat at a high desk behind a wire grating.
+
+"Curry," Mr. Baker burst out, "this boy tells me you gave him a package
+for Miss Morton a while ago."
+
+"Yes, sir."
+
+"Where did you get it?"
+
+The man looked up in surprise.
+
+"Why, sir, someone left it here--on my desk. I don't know who, sir.
+Right after lunch, it was. You know people deliver things here all the
+time. I didn't take any particular notice how it got here. It was just
+pushed through the window, I guess, same as usual. There was a lot of
+mail in the rack, after lunch, and everybody asking for theirs as they
+came in. In fact, I don't remember seeing the package handed in at all.
+Just found it lying on my desk, along with a lot of letters and things.
+Why, sir? Is anything wrong?"
+
+Baker turned to Duvall in disgust.
+
+"No system here at all," he grumbled. "The trail is lost, of course.
+Half a hundred people come through here every hour. That's all, Jim," he
+said, turning to the boy, who disappeared at once. Accompanied by
+Duvall, Baker returned to the private office.
+
+"Well?" Mr. Baker asked. "What next?"
+
+"How many typewriters have you in your offices, Mr. Baker? Machines, I
+mean, not operators."
+
+"About thirty, I guess. Or maybe thirty-five. Why?"
+
+"I want you to get me a sample of the writing of each machine, without
+letting anyone know about it. Put each one on a separate sheet of paper,
+with a note added, stating whose machine it is--that is, in whose
+office."
+
+Mr. Baker nodded. "I'll do it to-night," he said. "Attend to it myself.
+I see your idea. You think this thing is the work of someone inside the
+studio."
+
+"It may be, I don't know. But I mean to find out."
+
+"All right. Anything else?"
+
+"Yes. Tell me something about this new film you've just gotten out. 'An
+American Beauty,' I think it is called."
+
+Mr. Baker's manner became enthusiastic.
+
+"Greatest film Ruth Morton ever did," he exclaimed. "A knockout. It is
+to be shown at the Grand, on Broadway, to-morrow night. First time on
+the screen. You'd better look it over."
+
+"I probably shall. Now, tell me this. If I wanted to add anything to
+that picture, put in an insert, I believe you call it, could I do so, if
+I told you about it to-morrow?"
+
+"Well--it might be done," Mr. Baker replied, dubiously. "But we wouldn't
+want to change the film any. It's perfect as it is."
+
+"I don't doubt that. I have no idea of improving it in any way. But it
+is just possible that I may have a scheme that will help us to catch
+these people who are threatening Miss Morton. I'll tell you more about
+it, to-morrow. Meanwhile, don't forget about the typewriter samples.
+I'll see you in the morning." He rose. "And for the present, I think it
+would be best for you to keep what I have told you to yourself."
+
+Mr. Baker nodded.
+
+"I'll do that," he said, putting out his hand. "For the present, at
+least. But don't forget, Mr. Duvall, that this is a very vital matter to
+our company, and we can't afford to take any chances."
+
+"I realize that fully. You can depend on me. I intend to save Miss
+Morton from any harm, not primarily on your company's account, but on
+her own. Good day."
+
+"Good day, and the best of luck."
+
+Duvall went toward the entrance, and in the corridor met Mrs. Morton.
+She was about to pass him, but he detained her.
+
+"Twenty-seven days more," he whispered to her. She turned sharply, a
+look of fear upon her face, but as she recognized Duvall, her expression
+changed.
+
+"Oh--it's you," she exclaimed. "I've just come down in the car, to take
+Ruth home. Is everything all right?"
+
+"Yes, so far. At least no harm has come to your daughter. But I am sorry
+to say that she has received another warning."
+
+"Here?" Mrs. Morton started, and glanced about in alarm.
+
+"Yes."
+
+"What was it?"
+
+"A photograph." Duvall explained the contents of the mysterious package,
+but did not show the hideous picture to the girl's mother.
+
+"And you haven't found out anything yet?"
+
+"Nothing definite. There has scarcely been time. But we will. You may be
+sure of that."
+
+"Have you seen Ruth?" Mrs. Morton asked.
+
+"Yes. Mr. Baker introduced me to her. She thinks I am a newspaper man,
+who wants to write a special article about her for one of the Sunday
+papers. She suggested that I call at your house some evening, or
+possibly Sunday. If you are going back to town soon, I think it might be
+a good idea for me to drive back with you."
+
+"By all means. I shall feel much safer. Suppose you wait for us at the
+entrance. I shall not be long."
+
+Duvall nodded, and strolled toward the street, his mind busy with the
+events of the day. He stood for quite a while near the door, watching
+the people who came in and out. Many of them were women. He wondered if
+among them was the woman who was responsible for the threats of the past
+three days. It seemed improbable, and yet, there were indications that
+it was within the studio, rather than outside it, that the guilty person
+was to be found.
+
+Mrs. Morton came out presently, accompanied by Ruth. The girl looked
+pale and troubled. Duvall went up to her.
+
+"I have met your mother, Miss Morton," he said, "and she has very kindly
+suggested that I ride back to the city with you."
+
+The girl nodded, without particular interest.
+
+"We shall be very glad to have you," she said, "but you will excuse me,
+I know, if I do not talk to you about my work. I am feeling rather bad
+to-day, and I'm sure I couldn't tell you anything interesting."
+
+"I'm sure I would not expect it, under the circumstances," Duvall
+replied, as Miss Morton, accompanied by her mother, went toward the
+automobile that stood near the entrance. "I don't doubt your work is
+full of trying incidents."
+
+"Oh, it isn't my work," the girl replied, as he assisted her into the
+car. "I love my work. But there are other things." She glanced toward
+her mother with a tired smile, then sank back upon the cushions.
+
+A moment later they were whirling toward the city.
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER VI
+
+
+Duvall's ride back to town with Mrs. Morton and Ruth was quite
+uneventful. The latter, as she had explained, was ill, weak, indisposed
+to talk. Duvall and Mrs. Morton kept up a brisk conversation upon topics
+of the day, but both knew that it was of the girl they were thinking,
+and their interest in the subjects they discussed was clearly forced.
+Both were glad when the car at last stopped before the apartment
+building, and the long ride was over.
+
+Mrs. Morton invited Duvall to come in and dine with them, and he
+promptly accepted. Ruth seemed indifferent. Assisted by her maid, she
+left the car and on reaching the apartment, at once went to her room.
+
+"You will excuse me, I know," she said to Duvall. "I am tired out, and
+think I had better lie down at once. Nora will bring me some dinner,"
+she said, turning to her mother.
+
+Duvall and Mrs. Morton ate their dinner in silence. Some sense of
+oppression, of impending evil, hung over them both. Mrs. Morton left the
+table toward the close of the meal, and went to her daughter's room.
+With the solicitude of the typical mother she arranged the windows. That
+opening to the fire escape she raised to its full height. The one facing
+upon the court she left as it was, raised some six or eight inches.
+Then, having kissed her daughter good night, she returned to the
+library, where Duvall sat smoking a cigar.
+
+"Ruth has gone to bed," she told him. "Both the windows in her room are
+open, the one on the fire-escape wide, the other partly raised."
+
+Duvall looked at her with an expression of doubt.
+
+"I think it would be better, for the present," he said, "to close and
+fasten the one opening on the fire escape. We cannot tell to what danger
+your daughter may be exposed."
+
+Mrs. Morton rose and left the room.
+
+"I will do as you advise," she said. Going to Ruth's bedroom she closed
+and fastened the window in question, then she went back to the library.
+
+"Have you hit upon any theory to account for the sending of these
+letters?" she asked.
+
+Duvall shook his head. "The whole thing is very mysterious," he said.
+"Of course it was easy enough for anyone to leave the photograph at the
+studio this afternoon. In fact it might readily have been done by one of
+the other actresses, who might be jealous of your daughter's success.
+But if the thing was done by anyone employed at the studio, how can we
+account for the message left in the bedroom at half-past nine this
+morning, the one we found on the floor? If the woman who is responsible
+for these threats was at the studio this morning, how could she arrange
+to have the note left in your daughter's bedroom here at the same hour?
+That would seem to imply a confederate. I confess that the entire matter
+is for the moment beyond me."
+
+"Were you able to find out anything concerning the telegram which came
+this morning?"
+
+"Nothing, except that it was sent by a woman. I was not surprised to
+learn that. Naturally I should expect that a woman was responsible for
+these threats. But what woman? That is the question." He sat for a long
+time, thinking, his eyes fixed upon the floor.
+
+Suddenly there came a ring at the doorbell. Mrs. Morton, without waiting
+for the maid, sprang to the hall, with Duvall close at her heels. As she
+threw it open, they saw a man standing in the doorway. Duvall was the
+first to recognize their caller.
+
+"How do you do, Mr. Baker," he said, holding out his hand.
+
+Mr. Baker came in, and greeted Mrs. Morton.
+
+"I didn't expect to find Mr. Duvall here," he said. "In fact, I came to
+you to get his hotel address. Luckily I won't need it, now."
+
+"Anything new?" Duvall asked, as they returned to the library.
+
+"Nothing much. I got those samples of the writing of the various
+typewriters, as you requested," Baker replied, "and I thought that
+instead of waiting until to-morrow, it would be better to bring them to
+you to-night." He took a sheaf of papers from his pocket. "There are
+thirty-two in all. What are you going to do with them?" He placed the
+papers in Duvall's hand.
+
+The latter sat down at the library table and placed the sheets of paper
+before him.
+
+"Of course you know," he said to Baker, "that every typewriting machine
+has its unmistakable peculiarities. It is almost impossible to find a
+machine that has been used at all, that has not developed certain
+individual defects, or qualities, found in no other machine. Now let us
+take for instance the letters that Miss Morton has received during the
+past few days. They have all been written on the same machine, and I am
+of the opinion that it is a fairly old one. While going down to the
+studio this afternoon, I worked out and wrote down in my notebook the
+particular features which appear in all these letters." He took a small
+leather-covered book from his pocket.
+
+"In the first place," he said, "the letter 'a' throughout the several
+communications is always found to be out of line. The key bar is
+doubtless a trifle bent. Let us, therefore, see if, in any of the
+samples you have brought me, there exists a similar defect."
+
+He took the samples of writing, one by one, and after scrutinizing them
+carefully, passed them over to Baker, who likewise subjected them to a
+critical examination. When their work was completed, it was found that
+of the thirty-two samples, the displacement of the letter "a" occurred
+in but three, and in one of these it was so slight as to be scarcely
+noticeable. Duvall laid the three pages to one side. "A second fault
+shown in the typewriting of the letters," he said, "is to be found in
+the capital 'W.' Its lower right-hand corner has been worn or broken
+off, so that it invariably fails to register." He handed one of the
+letters to Baker. "See here, and here. The corner of the 'W' instead of
+being clear and distinct, is blunt and defective. Let us see whether a
+similar fault is to be found in any one of these three samples." He
+picked up the three sheets of paper that he had placed to one side.
+
+As he examined them, Mr. Baker and Mrs. Morton saw a shadow of
+disappointment cross his face. He handed the three pages to Baker.
+
+"The threatening letters were not written on any machine at your
+studio," he said.
+
+Baker took the pages and looked them over carefully.
+
+"No," he said at length. "You are right. None of these show the second
+defect you have named."
+
+"Well," observed Duvall cheerfully, "we have accomplished something, at
+least. We know that these letters were not written at the studio, and it
+seems reasonably certain that the woman we are looking for has a
+typewriter in her rooms, or wherever she may live. Of course she might
+have had the typewriting done by some public stenographer, but I
+consider it unlikely. A person sending threats of this character would
+not be apt to entrust so dangerous a secret to a third person. We must
+therefore make up our minds to find a woman who has a typewriting
+machine, and knows how to use it."
+
+"There are probably a hundred thousand such women in New York," Baker
+observed, gloomily.
+
+"No doubt. But we have more information than that about the person who
+sent these letters."
+
+"What, for instance?" asked Baker and Mrs. Morton in a breath.
+
+"Well, in the first place, this woman was able to secure possession of a
+photograph of Miss Morton." He took the hideously distorted picture from
+his pocket. "Do either of you know where this photograph was made?"
+
+Mrs. Morton examined the picture with a shudder. Then she rose, went to
+a cabinet at the other end of the room, and took out an album. Returning
+to the table, she placed the book before her, and began to turn the
+pages. In a few moments she found what she was looking for, a duplicate
+of the likeness which lay before them, with the exception, of course, of
+its frightful distortions.
+
+"This picture was made by Gibson, on Fifth Avenue," she said, referring
+to the photograph in the book. Both Baker and Duvall saw at once that on
+the retouched picture, the name of the photographer had been scratched
+off.
+
+"How many of them were made, and what became of them?" Duvall asked
+quickly.
+
+"Ordinarily I could not answer such a question," Mrs. Morton replied,
+"for Ruth has had many photographs taken, and we have not of course kept
+a record of them, or what has become of them, but in this particular
+case I happen to remember that she did not like the pose particularly,
+and ordered but half a dozen. I do not think that she gave any of them
+away. If I am right in my supposition, there should be five more here in
+the apartment." Closing the book, Mrs. Morton went to the cabinet again,
+and took out a portfolio containing numberless photographs of her
+daughter in all sorts of poses.
+
+After some searching, she produced a brown-paper envelope, containing a
+number of pictures, all taken by the same photographer, at the same
+time. There were in the envelope four copies of the photograph, the
+fifth of which was contained in the album.
+
+"Evidently one has been given away," Duvall exclaimed. "Now if we can
+only find out to whom, our search for the writer of these letters may be
+very quickly ended."
+
+Mr. Baker regarded them both with a puzzled look.
+
+"I have seen that picture before," he said, "and of course I could not
+have done so, had I not seen the one that is missing." He sat for a
+while in silence, searching his recollection for a solution of the
+problem. Suddenly he spoke. "There was a picture like that in my office,
+at one time," he exclaimed. "Miss Morton sent a number down, for
+advertising purposes, and I am positive that this one was among them. I
+remember distinctly the pose of the head, the unusual arrangement of the
+hair. That photograph should be in our files. The fact that it has been
+taken out shows that the person who has been writing these letters is a
+member of our own staff, or at least has access to our files."
+
+"That does not necessarily follow," observed Duvall.
+
+"Why not?"
+
+"Because the picture might have been obtained from the photographer."
+
+"But they are not allowed to dispose of the portraits of others, without
+the sitter's permission."
+
+"I know that, but they sometimes do so, especially in the case of anyone
+so well known as Miss Morton. She has become a sort of public character.
+
+"Well," remarked Duvall, "we can readily find out, in the morning. You,
+Mr. Baker, can go through your files, and should you find the photograph
+to be there, I will take the matter up with the photographer. If, on the
+contrary, the picture is missing, it will be fairly conclusive evidence
+that the person or persons we are looking for are in some way connected
+with the studio."
+
+"I will make an investigation the first thing in the morning," Mr. Baker
+announced, rising. "Do you expect to be at the studio early, Mr.
+Duvall?"
+
+"Yes. Quite early."
+
+"Then we had best leave matters until then. Good night. Good night, Mrs.
+Morton." He turned and started toward the door.
+
+He had proceeded but a few steps, when the three occupants of the room
+were startled by a series of sudden and agonizing cries. From the rear
+of the apartment came a succession of screams so piercing in their
+intensity, so filled with horror, that they found themselves for a
+moment unable to stir. Then Mrs. Morton gave a cry of anguish, and
+darted out into the hall, closely followed by Duvall and Mr. Baker.
+
+The screams continued, filling the entire apartment with their clamor.
+That the voice which uttered them was that of Ruth Morton none of the
+three doubted for a moment. With sinking hearts they went on, prepared
+for the worst. Duvall found himself dreading the moment when they should
+reach the bedroom door, and face the girl, her beauty, perhaps,
+disfigured beyond all recognition.
+
+There was a sharp turn, at the end of the hall, into a shorter cross
+hall, at the end of which was the door of Ruth's bedroom. It was closed,
+but as though in response to Mrs. Morton's agonized appeals, it suddenly
+opened as they reached it, and Ruth Morton, pale as death, appeared.
+
+With wide open eyes staring straight ahead, she half stepped, half fell
+through the doorway, her slender figure clothed only in her night dress.
+"Ruth," Mrs. Morton screamed, as she caught sight of her daughter.
+
+The girl tried to say something, but her tongue failed her. Then, with a
+faint moan, she lurched forward and fell limply into her mother's arms.
+
+
+
+
+PART II
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER VII
+
+
+When Duvall, Mr. Baker, of the motion picture company, and Mrs. Morton
+rushed down the hallway of the latter's apartment in response to the
+screams from Ruth's bedroom, they were one and all convinced that the
+girl had suffered some terrible injury--that the mysterious threats to
+destroy her beauty which had been made during the past few days had been
+converted into some frightful reality.
+
+One glance at the girl's white face as she fell fainting into her
+mother's arms told the detective that their fears had been, to that
+extent at least, groundless. The girl's lovely features, although drawn
+and contorted by fear, showed no signs of the disfigurement they feared.
+
+Leaving the girl to her mother's care, Duvall, closely followed by
+Baker, dashed into the bedroom, and at once switched on the lights. The
+place, to the intense surprise of both, presented a picture of perfect
+quiet and order. The bed clothing was slightly disarranged, but this of
+course was but natural, since Ruth had sprung up under the influence of
+some terrible fear, and rushed from the room. Everything else seemed in
+its place.
+
+Duvall's first act was to examine the window. The one fronting on the
+fire escape was closed and tightly fastened. It was perfectly clear that
+no one had entered the room in that way.
+
+The other window, facing on the court, was raised a few inches, just as
+Mrs. Morton had left it half an hour before. Duvall turned to his
+companion with a puzzled frown.
+
+"I had supposed, Mr. Baker," he said, "that someone had entered this
+room, and frightened Miss Morton while she was asleep, but that is
+impossible. The windows have not been disturbed."
+
+Baker glanced at the one which faced the court.
+
+"That one may have been," he said, indicating it with a nod. "Someone
+may have come in that way, raising the window to effect an entrance, and
+lowering it again after leaving."
+
+"I admit that what you say would be possible, were there any way in
+which the window might be reached from outside," Duvall replied, "but if
+you will look out, and tell me how anyone could make an entrance from
+the court, I will agree to the possibility you suggest."
+
+Baker raised the window, and glanced out.
+
+"The apartment above," Duvall went on, "is unoccupied, and the window
+above is closed and fastened. The little attic in the adjoining house is
+unused, although that is not important, since no one could reach this
+window from it, in any event. Can you suggest any other way?"
+
+Mr. Baker shook his head.
+
+"She must have been frightened by some terrible nightmare," he said. "I
+do not wonder at it. She has gone through enough to upset anybody's
+nerves. Suppose we go back and question her."
+
+"Just a moment," exclaimed Duvall. Then he dropped upon his knees beside
+the disordered bed, and began to examine the surface of the counterpane
+with minute care.
+
+"What is it?" Baker asked, joining him.
+
+"I don't know--yet," returned Duvall, as he took a magnifying glass from
+his pocket and proceeded to scrutinize with the greatest interest some
+marks upon the counterpane's surface. Presently he rose, replaced the
+glass in his pocket, and turned to his companion.
+
+"There is something very astonishing about this whole affair," he
+exclaimed. "What do you make of those?" He indicated a series of dark
+smudges upon the bedspread, arranged in little groups.
+
+Baker bent over and examined the marks with an exclamation of surprise.
+
+"Why--they look like finger prints," he cried. "Large finger prints."
+
+"It is impossible to say whether they are finger prints or not," Duvall
+replied. "As you see, there are a great many of them, very confusingly
+arranged. But there is something else, that you have not noticed. What
+do you suppose could have made a mark like this?" He pointed to a long
+straight dark line, which extended half way across the counterpane, and
+pointed directly toward the window which faced upon the court. The line
+was very faint, but clearly defined, as though someone had laid a thin
+dusty stick across the bed.
+
+"I can't make anything of it," Baker exclaimed, gazing toward the
+window.
+
+"Nor can I," said Duvall. "At one time, because of certain indentations
+on the letters found in this room, I had thought that they might have
+been introduced through the partly opened window by means of a long rod,
+a fishing pole, perhaps. This mark on the counterpane appears to bear
+out that theory. The smudges which look like finger prints may have been
+merely the points at which the end of the pole, or whatever was attached
+to the end of the pole, came in contact with the bed. All that is
+perfectly supposable. But you can see for yourself that if a long pole
+were thrust through the window, raised as the latter was but a trifle
+above the level of the bed, the other end of such a pole must of
+necessity have been held at approximately the same level, and the only
+point outside the window from which it could have been so held is _in
+the air, forty feet above the bottom of the court_! The thing is
+absurd."
+
+"There is, of course, the window of the apartment below," Baker
+suggested. "Might not it have been used?"
+
+"I thought of that," Duvall replied. "You can see for yourself that even
+a tall man standing on the window sill below, would find not only his
+hands, but even his head, far below the sill of this window, nor could
+anyone so support themselves, without something to hold on to. But all
+that is beside the question. The people in the apartment below are
+friends of Mrs. Morton's, a middle-aged man and his wife, with two young
+children. They are eminently respectable people, and quite above
+suspicion."
+
+"Then I give the thing up," exclaimed Baker. "Suppose we have a talk
+with Miss Morton."
+
+They found the girl lying on a couch in the library, with her mother
+sitting beside her. She seemed very weak and quiet, but in full
+possession of her faculties. Duvall drew up a chair, and asked her if
+she felt able to tell them what had occurred.
+
+"Yes," she replied in a faint voice, her face still showing evidences of
+her fright. "I will try to tell you exactly what happened."
+
+"I had taken some medicine to make me sleep, before I got into bed,
+because I was very nervous and upset. When mother came back to fix the
+windows I was already drowsy, and just remember that she turned out the
+lights, and then I must have dozed.
+
+"All of a sudden I heard a strange rasping noise, and I woke up, with
+the feeling that there was someone in the room. I don't know just why I
+felt so sure of that, whether it was merely a sense of someone's
+presence, or the sound of someone moving about near my bed. I think,
+however, that it was the latter.
+
+"The room was dark, of course, but enough light came through the windows
+to make a moving object distinguishable. I looked about, terribly
+frightened, but for a moment I saw nothing. The noise I had heard at
+first continued. Then without the least warning, a hand seemed to clutch
+at the bedclothes, and I saw above me, bending over me, a terrible dark
+face, exactly like the grinning death's head on those letters I've been
+getting.
+
+"I lay perfectly still, frozen with horror, and in a moment the face had
+disappeared, and then I began to scream. Right after that I sprang from
+the bed and threw open the door, and found mother and Mr. Baker and
+yourself standing in the hall. That is all I know."
+
+Duvall looked at her for a moment, puzzled.
+
+"Are you sure you really saw someone leaning over you? Might it not have
+been an illusion, the result of your nervous condition?"
+
+"No. I am certain someone was there--someone quite tall, I should say,
+and with a terrible, evil face."
+
+"It might have been a mask, of course," Duvall suggested. "Someone
+wearing a mask."
+
+"Yes. It might have been. It was too dark for me to tell, of course. But
+I remember the eyes, for I saw them distinctly. They were only a few
+inches from my own." She put her hands to her face and shuddered. "It
+was terrible, terrible. I shall never sleep in that room again."
+
+"There--there, dearie," Mrs. Morton whispered in a soothing voice. "You
+need not sleep there. You can lie right here, for the rest of the night,
+and I will stay with you and see that no one harms you."
+
+"That would be best, Mrs. Morton," Duvall remarked. "And to-morrow I
+suggest that you and your daughter move, temporarily at least, to
+another location. Some quiet hotel, where you will not be subject to
+these terrible annoyances. I cannot imagine how it is done, but in some
+way, some almost superhuman way, it seems, someone can apparently either
+enter your daughter's room, or at least reach it from without, at will."
+
+"What do you mean by that?" asked Ruth, somewhat mystified.
+
+"I mean this, Miss Morton. I do not believe that there was anyone in
+your room to-night. I do not believe that there has ever been anyone
+there. But I _do_ believe that the two letters we found there were
+introduced from without, in some mysterious way, at the end of a long
+pole, or rod. And I think that what frightened you so to-night was
+merely a mask, a grotesque representation of the seal used on the
+letters, and pushed toward you in some way, as you lay in bed for the
+purpose of terrifying you."
+
+"But--why--why?" the girl cried.
+
+"I cannot say. But it has occurred to me that these people, whoever they
+are, that are trying to injure you, may not intend any physical violence
+at all, at least for the present, but may be depending solely upon the
+terrible and insidious power of suggestion. You must bear this
+possibility in mind, and try to control your fears. I can readily
+believe that thirty days of this sort of persecution, and you would be a
+physical and mental wreck. But we shall stop it. You need have no fears
+on that score." Mrs. Morton turned to her daughter with a few words of
+explanation.
+
+"Mr. Richards, or rather, Mr. Duvall, is not a newspaper man, Ruth, but
+a detective, who is trying to bring the wretches who are annoying you to
+justice. I feel every confidence in him."
+
+Ruth turned toward Duvall a very white and pathetic face.
+
+"I hope you will succeed, Mr. Duvall," she said, in a weak voice. "I
+cannot stand much more."
+
+"I shall, Miss Morton. And now," he turned to Mr. Baker, "I think we had
+better go, and let Miss Morton get some rest. I will come here in the
+morning, Mrs. Morton," he continued, addressing the girl's mother, "and
+we will consider further the question of your moving to a hotel.
+Meanwhile I do not think you have anything further to fear this evening.
+Good night."
+
+Before leaving the apartment he made another examination of the marks
+upon the bedclothes, then closed and fastened both windows, and locked
+the door of the room.
+
+Mr. Baker left him at the corner.
+
+"You will come to the studio to-morrow, of course."
+
+"By all means. I shall come down with Miss Morton and her mother. That
+will give us an opportunity to investigate further the matter of the
+missing photograph, and also to talk over that plan I had in mind
+concerning the new film you are to show at the Grand to-morrow night. It
+is barely possible that, by means of a plan I have in mind, we may be
+able to locate the person or persons responsible for all this trouble."
+
+"I certainly hope so," said Baker, as he took his leave. "This thing is
+getting on _my_ nerves, too."
+
+Duvall made his way back to his hotel, as much mystified as ever. He had
+thought for a moment of spending the night on the sidewalk in front of
+the Mortons' apartment, watching the windows facing on the court, but
+his experience told him that it would be useless. The alarm which Ruth
+had made, the closing of the windows of her bedroom, the locking of the
+door, all made it highly improbable that any further attempt would be
+made to annoy her during the night. He walked along in a state of
+intense preoccupation, trying to discover some reasonable explanation of
+the astonishing events of the day.
+
+Once he had an impression, a feeling, that he was being followed, but
+when he turned around, there was no one in sight but a slightly tipsy
+man, and a couple of young girls, far down the street. He dismissed the
+thought from his mind, and proceeded to his hotel.
+
+It was not yet eleven o'clock, and Grace was waiting for him in the
+little parlor of their suite.
+
+"Well, Richard," she remarked, as he came in, "you've had quite a day of
+it."
+
+"Yes, quite," he replied, throwing himself into a chair. "What have
+_you_ been doing with yourself?"
+
+"Shopping, mostly. I found it rather dull. I went to a moving picture
+this afternoon. Saw your friend Ruth Morton. She certainly is a very
+beautiful girl."
+
+"Yes--very," Duvall replied, absently.
+
+"Have you seen her to-day?" Grace went on, with a smile.
+
+"Yes. Why?"
+
+"Oh--nothing. I was just thinking."
+
+Duvall burst into a laugh, and rising, went over to his wife and kissed
+her.
+
+"For heaven's sake, Grace," he said, "don't be silly. I'm not interested
+in motion picture actresses."
+
+"You weren't, I'll admit, nor in motion pictures either, until recently,
+but perhaps you have changed. I could understand any man being
+fascinated by a girl like Ruth Morton."
+
+Duvall did not pursue the question. It was a hard and fast rule between
+them not to discuss his professional work. And Mrs. Morton had made it a
+point that he should confide in no one, not even his wife.
+
+"Well," he said, picking up an evening paper, "I'm not fascinated yet.
+No letters for me to-day, I suppose."
+
+"None." Grace went on with her sewing.
+
+They sat for a while in silence. Presently there came a knock on the
+door, and a boy appeared, bearing a telegram, Duvall opened it
+carelessly, thinking it some word from the overseer of his farm. He sat
+up with sudden astonishment as he read the contents of the message.
+
+"Keep out," the telegram read, "or you will find that we can strike
+back."
+
+Duvall placed the telegram in his pocket with a frown. So it appeared
+that in spite of all his care, his connection with the case was known.
+How this was possible he could not imagine. His first visit to the
+Morton apartment that day had been in the guise of a workman. His
+subsequent appearance at the studio, and later, at the apartment, had
+been in the character of a newspaper man. There was only one
+explanation. Someone had watched him while he was making his examination
+of Ruth Morton's room, and, subsequently, had followed him from the
+apartment to his hotel. He began to realize that he was dealing with a
+shrewd brain, and one that acted with almost uncanny quickness and
+precision. He determined that, if Mrs. Morton and her daughter changed
+their place of residence the following day, he would do the same. He
+said nothing of his intentions to Grace, however. It was more than ever
+necessary that he preserve secrecy in this case.
+
+"No bad news, I hope, Richard," Grace remarked, glancing up from her
+sewing.
+
+"No. Nothing serious. Have you heard anything from home?"
+
+"Yes. Everything is going along quite smoothly. The boy is well and
+happy, and Mrs. Preston says to stay as long as we want to."
+
+"Well," said Duvall, rising and throwing down his newspaper, "if things
+don't go better than they have been going to-day, I may have to be here
+some time. I've got a queer case on, Grace. I'd like to tell you about
+it, but I can't. But it is quite unusual. Some features to it that I
+have never met before."
+
+"Oh--I wish I might help you," Grace exclaimed. "You know how often I
+have done so in the past."
+
+"I know, dear. But I am bound to secrecy, for the present at least.
+Suppose we turn in now. I've got to get up early."
+
+"All right," Grace said. "But if you need my help, don't hesitate to ask
+me. To tell you the truth, I'm having an awfully slow time."
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER VIII
+
+
+Duvall made his appearance at the Morton apartment the following morning
+in his ordinary guise. It was his intention, when the time came, to
+disappear from the case in his normal person, to reappear in it, later,
+in a complete disguise. But that time, he felt, had not yet arrived.
+
+Mrs. Morton received him in fairly good spirits. Her daughter, she said,
+had had a restful night, in spite of her terrible experience. When Ruth
+rose from the breakfast table to greet him, he was gratified to find
+that she showed no great traces of the fright of the evening before.
+
+"I'm feeling almost myself again, Mr. Duvall," she said. "I've made up
+my mind not to let these people frighten me again."
+
+"Nothing further occurred last night, of course," Duvall asked.
+
+"Nothing," replied Mrs. Morton. "I could almost believe the whole thing
+a horrible dream." They did not touch on the question of going to a
+hotel, during the short interval that elapsed before they set out for
+the studio. Duvall was anxious to see Mr. Baker. He hoped sincerely that
+by means of the photograph which had been in the company's files, some
+trace of the persons responsible for the threats might be obtained.
+
+The trip to the studio was made most uneventfully, and Ruth started in
+with her work in very good spirits. Duvall, leaving the girl with her
+mother, sought out Mr. Baker in the latter's private office.
+
+"Hello!" Baker cried, grasping the detective's hand warmly. "Anything
+new?"
+
+"Not a thing. How about the photograph we were going to trace?"
+
+Mr. Baker frowned.
+
+"It's a curious thing," he replied. "Most curious. The picture in
+question was, I find, taken from the files by Mr. Moore, our president,
+and placed on his desk. He always admired it, and kept it there, along
+with a number of others, to show to persons calling upon him. Now, it
+seems, it has disappeared. There is not the slightest trace of it."
+"But," Duvall objected, "who could have taken it?"
+
+"A dozen people. Half a hundred, I guess. You see, Mr. Moore's office is
+a big room, just beyond here." He rose, and led the detective through a
+short corridor. "Here it is," he went on, throwing open the door. "This
+is where Mr. Moore receives his callers. It is his reception room, and
+no private papers are kept here. Those are all in the smaller office
+adjoining. This room is open at any time. After Mr. Moore leaves in the
+evening, and he often leaves early, anyone might come in here. And when
+the offices are closed, at night, I suppose any employee of the company
+might look in, if he cared to do so, without anyone objecting. You see,
+this is a sort of public room. The inner office is always kept locked,
+but there has never seemed to be any good reason for locking this one."
+
+"Still, although you cannot tell who has taken the picture, it seems
+clear enough that it must have been removed by some one employed in the
+studio."
+
+"Even that is by no means certain. So many people come here every day.
+All sorts of visitors, writers, actors, and the like. After business
+hours I don't doubt any number of persons enter this room, to look at
+the pictures of our great successes that hang on its walls. And then
+there are the caretakers, the scrub-women, and their friends. I find
+that they, many of them, bring in outsiders, after working hours, to
+look at the studio, and the famous offices. Of course it should not be,
+and it will not be, in the future, but up to now we have rather welcomed
+people from outside. It seemed good advertising."
+
+Duvall followed his companion back to his office.
+
+"Then this clue, like all the others in this singular case," he
+remarked, "seems to end in a blind alley."
+
+"It seems so," assented Mr. Baker, gloomily. "What was your plan about
+the new film we're going to show to-night?"
+
+Duvall was about to speak, but before he could do so, they heard a
+slight commotion in the hall outside. Then someone rapped violently on
+the door.
+
+Both he and Baker sprang to their feet.
+
+"Come in," the latter cried.
+
+The door was flung open, and Mr. Edwards, the director, who was making
+the picture upon which Ruth Morton was working, strode hastily into the
+room. "Mr. Baker!" he exclaimed, then paused upon seeing Duvall.
+
+"What is it?" Baker replied.
+
+"Will you look here a minute, please?"
+
+Baker went up to him, his face showing the greatest uneasiness.
+
+"What's the matter?" he asked. "Anything wrong?"
+
+"Yes. Miss Morton was going through the scene in the first part, where
+she gets the telegram, you know, and when she opened the message, and
+read it, she fainted."
+
+"Fainted? What was in the telegram to make her faint?"
+
+"Well, it ought to have read, 'Will call for you to-night, with marriage
+license--Jimmy.' That was the prop message we had prepared. But somebody
+must have substituted another one for it. This is what she read." He
+handed Baker a yellow slip of paper. "I can't make anything out of it."
+
+Baker snatched the telegram from his hand with a growl of rage, and read
+it hastily. Then he passed it over to Duvall.
+
+"What do you think of that?" he asked. Duvall gazed at the telegram with
+a feeling of helpless anger.
+
+"Twenty-six days more," it read. "When you appear in your new picture at
+the Grand to-night, it will be your last. I shall be there." The grinning
+death's head seal was appended in lieu of a signature, as before.
+
+A feeling of resentment swept over the detective. It seemed that these
+people acted as they saw fit, with supreme indifference to the fact that
+he was on their trail. Never before had he felt his skill so flouted,
+his ability made so light of. And yet, as usual, the message had
+apparently been delivered in such a way as to make tracing it
+impossible.
+
+"Still at it, it seems," Mr. Baker remarked. "This thing has got to
+stop, and at once. I don't propose to let anybody make a monkey of me."
+
+Duvall turned to the director, Mr. Edwards.
+
+"Who prepared the original telegram?" he asked quickly.
+
+Mr. Edwards looked at the detective in surprise, evidently wondering
+what this stranger had to do with the matter.
+
+"Answer, Edwards. It's all right," snapped Mr. Baker.
+
+"I prepared the property telegram," the director answered.
+
+"When?"
+
+"Last night. I knew it would be needed to-day."
+
+"What did you do with it?"
+
+"I left it on my desk. This morning I took it into the studio, and when
+the moment arrived, I gave it to the actor who took it to Miss Morton."
+
+"Was he out of your sight, after you gave him the telegram?"
+
+"No. He took it and walked right on the scene."
+
+"Then he couldn't have substituted another for it?"
+
+"No. It would have been impossible, unless he used sleight of hand."
+
+"Before you gave the man the telegram where was it?"
+
+"In my coat pocket."
+
+"No chance, I suppose, of anyone having taken it out and substituting
+another."
+
+"None."
+
+"Then it is clear that the substitution must have been effected between
+the time you left your office last night, and your arrival here this
+morning."
+
+"Yes."
+
+"Was this possible?"
+
+"Undoubtedly. I left my office last night about six. It is never locked.
+The caretakers, the women who clean the offices, were in there later,
+and from seven to nine this morning it would also have been a simple
+matter for anyone to enter and make the change."
+
+Duvall turned to Mr. Baker.
+
+"It's the same story," he said. "Someone who works in the building is
+responsible for this thing, or else is able to bribe one or more of your
+employees to act for them. But we won't get very far looking for the
+guilty person, with several hundred people to watch and no clues
+whatever to go on. Suppose we go back to your office, and I will tell
+you what I had in mind about this evening."
+
+"Is Miss Morton able to go on with the scene?" Baker asked, as Edwards
+started away.
+
+"No. She seems all broken up. I don't think she is very well. Her mother
+is going to take her home, as soon as she feels better."
+
+"Will you ask Mrs. Morton to wait a little while, Mr. Edwards? Tell her
+that Mr. Duvall will join her presently, and go back to the city with
+her." Mr. Edwards nodded, and withdrew, and Duvall and Mr. Baker retired
+to the latter's private office.
+
+"What did you have in mind about that new film we're going to release
+to-night?" Mr. Baker asked.
+
+"I'll explain that presently. First, tell me how long it will take you
+to make a short section of film, say enough to show for about ten
+seconds?"
+
+"Oh--not long. But what of?"
+
+"I'll explain that presently. But you could make such a section of film,
+develop and print it, and insert it in the picture you are going to show
+to-night, if you had to, couldn't you?"
+
+"Yes--if we had to. But what's the idea?"
+
+Duvall took a bit of paper from his pocket and handed it to Baker.
+
+"I want you to make a picture of this, and have it inserted in the film
+at any convenient point--say at the beginning of the second part. And
+you had better have the cutting and pasting-in done by some trusted
+person, under your personal supervision."
+
+"But," said Baker, gazing in amazement at the bit of paper Duvall had
+handed him. "What's the idea of putting this in our picture? It wouldn't
+do at all."
+
+"Look at that telegram Mr. Edwards just gave you. The writer says in it,
+'I shall be there.' Now if the person who is causing all this trouble is
+going to be in the audience at the Grand Theater to-night, it is our
+business to find her. I say her, because I am convinced the guilty
+person is a woman."
+
+A look of comprehension began to dawn upon Mr. Baker's face.
+
+"By George!" he exclaimed. "You figure out that this will cause her to
+disclose herself--make some sign?"
+
+"I feel certain of it."
+
+"Then we will put it in." He laid the square of paper on his desk. "I
+will have the section of film made privately, and at once. I shall not
+tell even the other officers of the company about it. I suppose they
+will give me the devil, until after they know the reasons for it, but
+then, of course, it will be all right."
+
+Duvall rose and put out his hand.
+
+"You will be there to-night, of course?"
+
+"Of course. And you?"
+
+"Oh, I'll be on hand all right, although you may not recognize me. Good
+day." With a quick hand-shake he left the room, and went to look for
+Ruth and her mother. He found them in the girl's dressing-room, ready to
+depart. Ruth was pale and terrified, showing the most intense
+nervousness in every word and movement. Mrs. Morton, scarcely less
+affected, strove with all her power to remain calm, in order that her
+daughter might not break down completely. Duvall did his best to cheer
+them up.
+
+"You must not let this thing prey on your mind, Miss Morton," he said.
+"We are going to put a stop to it, and that very soon."
+
+"I hope so, Mr. Duvall," the girl replied. "If you don't, I'm afraid I
+shall break down completely."
+
+"I think we had better go home at once," Mrs. Morton said. "Ruth is in
+no condition to do any more work to-day."
+
+"I quite agree with you about going, Mrs. Morton, but not home." He
+lowered his voice, as though fearing that even at that moment some tool
+of the woman who was sending the letters might be within earshot. "I
+suggest that you let me take your daughter to some quiet hotel. You can
+follow, with her maid and the necessary baggage, later on. But we must
+be certain to make the change in such a way that our enemies, who are
+undoubtedly watching us, will not know of it. We will all leave here in
+your car, giving out that we are going to your home. No one will suspect
+anything to the contrary. On our arrival in the city, your daughter and
+I will leave the car, and drive to the hotel in a taxicab. When, later
+on, you follow with the baggage, take a taxi, sending your own car to
+the garage. I know your confidence in your chauffeur, but in this affair
+we can afford to trust no one. Your daughter and yourself can remain
+quietly in the hotel, under an assumed name, for a few days, until she
+recovers her strength. Meanwhile, I have every expectation that the
+persons at the bottom of this shameful affair will have been caught."
+
+The plan appealed to Mrs. Morton at once, and she told the detective so.
+
+"But where shall we go to--what hotel?" she asked.
+
+Duvall leaned over and whispered in her ear the name of an exclusive and
+very quiet hotel in the upper part of the city.
+
+"Do not mention the name to anyone," he said, "not even to the taxicab
+driver, when you leave the house. Tell him to put you down at the
+corner, a block away, and do not proceed to the hotel until you see that
+he has driven off. And keep your eyes on your maid. I do not suspect
+her, I admit, but there seems to be a leak somewhere, and we must stop
+it."
+
+Mrs. Morton nodded, and rose.
+
+"We had better start, then," she said. "I understand perfectly. Have
+Ruth register in the name of Bradley. And I think, Mr. Duvall, if you
+can do so, you had better arrange to stop there as well."
+
+"I had intended to do so," the detective replied.
+
+"That will be better." Mrs. Morton led the way to the street.
+
+"You did not intend to go to the showing of your new film at the Grand
+to-night, did you?" Duvall asked Ruth, after they had started away from
+the studio.
+
+"Yes, I had intended to go," she replied. "I always go to my first
+releases. But to-night I do not feel able to do so."
+
+"I think it is just as well. What you need most now is rest."
+
+The girl looked at herself in a small mirror affixed to the side of the
+car.
+
+"Oh," she exclaimed. "I look terrible. These people are right, it seems.
+Three more weeks of this persecution and my looks would be quite gone.
+Mr. Edwards told me only this morning that he had never seen me look so
+bad." There were tears in her eyes.
+
+Duvall realized that she spoke the truth. The effect of the strain upon
+her nervous system, the brutal shocks of the past two days, the horror
+of the experience of the night before, had wrought havoc with the girl's
+beauty. Her face, gray, lined, haggard, her eyes, heavy and drawn, made
+her the very opposite of the radiant creature that had created such a
+furore in motion picture circles. The methods of her persecutors, if
+unchecked, would beyond doubt wreck her strength and health in a short
+time, and in addition, there was the danger that at any moment a
+physical attack, a swiftly thrown acid bomb, an explosive mixture
+concealed in an innocent-looking package, might destroy both her beauty
+and her reason in one blinding flash. With the fear in her great brown
+eyes constantly before him, Duvall determined more than ever to free her
+from this terrible persecution.
+
+They separated in the neighborhood of 30th Street, Duvall and Miss
+Morton taking a taxicab that stood before one of the smaller Fifth
+Avenue hotels. He made a pretense of entering the hotel, and did not
+summon the taxi until Mrs. Morton's car was well out of sight up the
+Avenue. Then he instructed the driver to proceed first to his hotel.
+
+Their stop here was but momentary. Duvall went to his room, threw a few
+articles of clothing into his grip, left a note for Grace, telling her
+that he would be absent for several days, then rejoined his companion
+and drove uptown to the hotel opposite the park, the name of which he
+had mentioned to Mrs. Morton. He felt perfectly certain that they had
+not been followed.
+
+Upon arriving at the hotel, he entered their names, including that of
+Mrs. Morton, upon the register, using the pseudonym which that latter
+had suggested. Then, sending Ruth to her room, he asked to see the
+manager, and had a brief conference with him in private. Immediately
+thereafter, he went up to his own apartment.
+
+As he had arranged, it adjoined the suite selected for the Mortons. He
+tapped lightly on the communicating door.
+
+"Are you all right, Miss Morton?" he called.
+
+"Yes," came the girl's voice from the opposite side. "All right, thank
+you."
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER IX
+
+
+Grace Duvall said good-by to her husband that morning with very little
+enthusiasm. She was not jealous of him, she was too sensible a woman,
+and trusted him too fully for that. But his sudden interest in Ruth
+Morton, the charming motion picture star, seemed rather incomprehensible
+to her. Of course she suspected he was working on a case which concerned
+the girl although Duvall had neither affirmed nor denied it. But she
+felt lonely, and perhaps a trifle out of sorts, and found her solitary
+breakfasts, luncheons, dinners, a little trying. So often before, she
+and Richard had worked together. Why, she wondered, did he so pointedly
+exclude her from this case? She would have liked to talk it over with
+him.
+
+She sat rather disconsolately in her room most of the forenoon, and
+about one o'clock made ready for a lonely luncheon. She was just about
+to leave the apartment when the telephone bell rang. Grace hastened to
+it at once, hoping that the call might be from her husband. A woman's
+voice, low, firm, determined sounded in her ears.
+
+"I want to speak with Mr. Duvall," the voice said.
+
+"Mr. Duvall is out. This is Mrs. Duvall."
+
+"Very well, Mrs. Duvall. If you want to keep your husband from very
+serious harm, you had better tell him to steer clear of Ruth Morton's
+affairs in future. A word to the wise, you know. Good day." The speaker
+suddenly rang off.
+
+Grace turned from the telephone, her brain in a whirl. What danger
+threatened her husband? Ought she not to tell him of the message as soon
+as possible, so that he might be on his guard? And what did this
+mysterious reference to "Ruth Morton's affairs" mean. Did it imply that
+Richard was in any way involved--but that was preposterous. She put the
+thought from her mind, and went down in the elevator to a lonely and not
+very enjoyable meal.
+
+As she left the dining-room, and passed through the lobby, she thought
+she saw ahead of her a familiar figure. A moment later she realized that
+it was Richard himself, walking very rapidly toward the main entrance,
+his satchel in his hand. Was he leaving the hotel? And if so, ought she
+not to make an attempt to give him the message she had just received,
+before he did so? She walked quickly after him, but his pace was so
+rapid that she reached the sidewalk only in time to see him swing
+himself into a waiting taxi, baggage in hand, and drive quickly off. But
+what Grace saw, in addition to this, filled her with queer misgivings.
+Beside her husband in the cab was a woman--very beautiful woman, whom
+Grace had no difficulty whatever in identifying as Ruth Morton. And she
+also noticed, in the brief moment that elapsed before the taxi shot
+toward the Avenue, that the woman seemed to be in tears, and that
+Richard leaned over with the utmost solicitude and affection and clasped
+her hand in his. For the first time in her life, Grace Duvall was
+actually jealous.
+
+Thoughts of possible danger to her husband, however, were paramount in
+her mind. Without an instant's hesitation she stepped into a second
+taxi, whose driver was trying to attract her attention, and told him to
+follow the car containing the man and woman which had just driven off.
+
+The chauffeur grinned knowingly, nodded, and started his car. His grin
+drove from Grace's mind her sudden and unaccustomed jealousy. She knew
+that Richard must be going away with this girl for some reason connected
+with his professional work. Of course that work did not usually include
+consoling beautiful damsels in distress, but there must be extenuating
+circumstances. She put her unpleasant thoughts from her mind, and
+proceeded on her mission, to give her husband the warning message she
+had just received, with a reasonably calm mind.
+
+After a drive of some fifteen minutes, she saw the cab ahead of them
+begin to slow up, and observed that her chauffeur did likewise.
+Presently the first cab stopped before the doors of a big, imposing
+looking hotel, and Richard and Miss Morton hurriedly entered.
+
+Grace did not at once get out. She knew that her husband might resent
+her having followed him, and did not care to put him to any disadvantage
+by appearing so unexpectedly upon the scene. She waited, therefore, for
+several minutes, until he would have had time to go to his room, and
+then, paying off her cabman, she strolled quietly into the hotel lobby.
+
+There were a few persons sitting about, but Richard was not amongst
+them. Going to the clerk at the desk, she asked to see Mr. Richard
+Duvall.
+
+The clerk regarded her with a supercilious stare, consulted his records
+in a bored way, then informed her that no such person was registered
+there.
+
+Grace was completely taken aback.
+
+"But I saw him come in, only a few moments ago," she protested.
+
+"No such person here, Miss." With a frigid smile the clerk turned away,
+watching her, however, out of the corner of his eye, as though he
+considered her a suspicious character.
+
+Grace leaned over and examined the register. There were three entries
+upon it, in a handwriting clearly that of her husband. "Mrs. Bradley and
+maid," the first entry said. "Miss Bradley," the second. They had been
+assigned a suite of rooms. The third and last entry was "John Bradley."
+His room adjoined the suite. All three were set down as hailing from
+Boston.
+
+Grace puzzled for a long time over this mysterious series of entries
+without arriving at any definite conclusion regarding them. Where was
+the so-called Mrs. Bradley? And why had her husband assumed the same
+name? Was he posing as Ruth Morton's brother, and if so, for what
+reason? She could not make head or tail of the matter, and wondered
+whether she had better send up her card, or write Richard a note and
+leave it for him, telling of the warning. While she was debating the
+matter in her mind, she suddenly saw him emerge from one of the
+elevators at the opposite side of the lobby, and come toward the desk.
+
+Grace approached him at once, glad that the matter had been so simply
+arranged.
+
+"Richard," she said, in a low voice. "I want to speak to you."
+
+The gentleman she had addressed regarded her with a frown.
+
+"My name is not Richard, madam," he said, pointedly. "I am John Bradley.
+You must have made a mistake." With a polite bow he passed on.
+
+Grace was completely taken aback. She knew that between them there
+existed a tacit understanding never to address each other, in public,
+during the progress of a case, unless requested to do so by some sign.
+But she felt that she had important information to give her husband, and
+then, she _had_ been a trifle jealous and annoyed. The thought that she
+had committed an error filled her with chagrin. Without a word, she left
+the hotel.
+
+At a nearby corner she stepped into a telephone booth, and calling up
+the hotel, asked to speak to Mr. John Bradley. In a few moments she
+heard Richard's familiar tones.
+
+"This is Grace," she said quickly. "I'm sorry I spoke to you, just now,
+but I wanted to tell you that some woman telephoned the hotel to-day,
+and left a warning to the effect that if you did not keep out of Miss
+Morton's affairs, you would be in serious danger."
+
+"How did you know where I was?" Duvall asked.
+
+"I saw you leave the hotel, and followed you."
+
+"You should not have done so."
+
+"But I wanted to give you the message. I thought you ought to know."
+
+"I understand that, but I wished my presence here to be unknown to
+anyone. You made a serious mistake. I only hope that no harm will come
+of it."
+
+"But--how could harm come of it?"
+
+"You drove here in one of the hotel's regular cabs, I suppose?"
+
+"Yes."
+
+"Then the people I am trying to avoid may trace me here, through the
+driver of that cab."
+
+"Oh--Richard--I'm so sorry. Isn't there anything I can do?"
+
+"Nothing, now, except to make no further attempt to communicate with me
+here. Good-by."
+
+Grace returned to her hotel, very thoroughly dissatisfied with what she
+had done. It seemed to her that by trying to warn Richard of possible
+danger, she might only have brought it upon him. Apparently he had left
+their hotel, to avoid the very persons who had telephoned the warning
+message to her. She arrived at the door, got out of the cab in which she
+had made the journey, and looked about, hoping that the cabman who had
+driven her uptown might now be at his usual stand. To her delight, she
+saw that he was.
+
+She went up to the man, a slim, keen looking young Irishman, and engaged
+him in conversation.
+
+"Do you remember driving me uptown an hour or so ago?" she asked.
+
+"Sure I do, Miss," answered the man, touching his cap.
+
+"Then please forget completely where you went, will you?" She handed the
+man a ten dollar bill. "It is barely possible that someone may try to
+find out, through you, where I went. Be sure that you give them no
+information."
+
+"They'll get nothing out of me, Miss," the man replied, pocketing the
+bill with a pleased grin.
+
+"And if anybody _does_ try to find out, get their name, if you can, and
+if not, a description of them."
+
+"I'll do my best, Miss."
+
+"I am stopping here. My name is Duvall, Mrs. Duvall."
+
+"Very good, ma'am. I'll attend to it, ma'am."
+
+Grace went up to her room, satisfied that she had remedied her mistake,
+and began to look through an afternoon paper she had bought. There
+seemed nothing better to do, during the evening, than to go to the
+theater. Glancing down the list of attractions, she suddenly saw the
+name of Ruth Morton, in large letters, billed in a new feature play, _An
+American Beauty_, opening at the Grand Theater that night. She at once
+made up her mind to go. Since yesterday, her interest in Miss Morton had
+perceptibly increased. And in spite of all, Richard _had_ held her hand.
+
+She was just finishing her dinner, when a page came through the room,
+calling her name. She got up at once and followed him to the lobby.
+
+"I am Mrs. Duvall," she said.
+
+The boy looked up.
+
+"There's a chauffeur outside wants to see you, ma'am," he said, "Tom
+Leary."
+
+Grace understood at once, and made her way to the sidewalk. The cab
+driver of the morning stood near the entrance.
+
+"I beg pardon, ma'am, for calling you out," he said, "but I couldn't
+come in, and there was something I felt you ought to know."
+
+"What is it?"
+
+"A lady came here to see me a while ago," he said. "A smallish looking
+woman, not pretty, with light hair. She had on a dark brown suit. Not
+very good style, ma'am. She asked me if I knew anybody in the hotel
+named Duvall. I said I did. I find she'd been asking all the other
+cabmen, and had been to the desk, before that. I guess she must have
+been inquiring for your husband, ma'am."
+
+"Yes--yes--very likely," Grace hastily replied. "What then?"
+
+"Well, ma'am, she then asked me if I knew Mrs. Duvall. I said I did.
+Then she wanted to know if I'd driven either you or your husband to any
+other hotel to-day, and I said I hadn't, but that I usually did drive
+you, when you went anywhere. I took the liberty of saying that, ma'am."
+
+"Yes. I'm glad you did. Go on."
+
+"Then she hands me five dollars, and says that if I _did_ drive you to
+any other hotel, I was to let her know which one it was."
+
+"Where?" Grace asked, eagerly.
+
+The man fished from his pocket a small bit of cardboard upon which was
+scrawled with a pencil "Alice Watson, General Delivery."
+
+Grace stared at the bit of paper in surprise. Had she, by some lucky
+chance, discovered the very person for whom Richard was seeking? Of
+course the name was probably a fictitious one, and the address "General
+Delivery," meant nothing, and yet, it provided a clew by means of which
+this woman might be found.
+
+"You have acted very wisely, Leary," she said. "I am greatly obliged to
+you."
+
+"Do you want me to send her any word, ma'am?"
+
+"I may. I am anxious to get hold of this woman, or, to be more exact, my
+husband is. I will consult with him first, however. It may be that he
+will want you to write her a letter, giving her some such information as
+she desires, and then, by going to the general delivery window at the
+post office and watching, identify her when she comes for it. Do you
+think you could arrange to get off and do this?"
+
+"Well, ma'am, even if I can't arrange to get off, you could of course
+hire my cab, and----"
+
+"Of course," Grace interrupted. "Very well. I will let you know further
+about the matter a little later. Meanwhile, here is something more for
+your trouble." She gave the man another bill. "Now drive me to the Grand
+Theater."
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER X
+
+
+Duvall, after having satisfied himself that Ruth Morton was safely
+installed in her suite of rooms at the hotel, came down to the lobby to
+await the arrival of Mrs. Morton.
+
+The unexpected meeting with Grace caused him the utmost anxiety. He
+appreciated fully her reasons for having come to see him, and yet he
+deeply regretted her coming. The enemies of Ruth Morton were far too
+clever, too shrewd, he feared, not to take advantage of her mistake, and
+by means of it, trace him at once to his present address. A complete
+disguise became an immediate necessity. He decided to assume one, as
+soon as Mrs. Morton had arrived.
+
+The latter came in about ten minutes later accompanied by Nora. Duvall
+explained matters to the clerk at the desk, and the supposed Mrs.
+Bradley was conducted to her rooms at once. Duvall accompanied her.
+
+They found Ruth resting quietly, but her joy at her mother's arrival was
+very apparent. She feared to be left alone, and seemed to expect her
+persecutors to appear from every closet, through every door or window.
+
+"Oh, mother, I'm so glad to see you," she exclaimed.
+
+"I'm glad to find you safe," Mrs. Morton returned.
+
+"I advise you to stay right here with your daughter throughout the
+evening, Mrs. Morton," said Duvall, as he made ready to go to his own
+room. "Have your meals sent up. Admit no one. Open no packages. I have
+every hope that before the night is over, I may have some most important
+and satisfactory news for you. I shall probably not see you again until
+after the performance to-night, but if anything vital occurs, I will of
+course communicate with you by telephone. Good-by, and good luck."
+
+When he reached his own room, he proceeded to the business of divesting
+himself completely of all resemblance to Richard Duvall. It was clear
+that the persons he was seeking knew him by sight, and hence his
+opportunities to accomplish anything against them were very greatly
+lessened. The threatening telephone message received by Grace did not
+worry him at all, but the fact that those people were so constantly upon
+his heels did. He determined to disappear completely as Duvall, and
+reappear in the person of John Bradley, using all his skill in the
+matter of disguise to create for himself a totally different
+personality.
+
+Taking a makeup box from his grip, he proceeded first to give his dark
+brown hair a very decided and natural looking touch of gray, over the
+temples and at the sides. Then he fitted into place a short pointed
+grayish beard, and a mustache with waxed ends. These were products of
+the skill of one of the best wig-makers in Paris, and so cleverly made
+that they would defy detection, even in broad daylight. A pair of
+gold-rimmed eyeglasses completed the facial disguise. Duvall might now
+have passed anywhere for a well-groomed professional man of fifty-five
+or sixty.
+
+The impression was heightened by his frock coat and silk hat. He felt
+quite sure that, in his present disguise, the plotters against Ruth
+Morton's welfare could not possibly recognize him.
+
+He went down to the theater very early, after a hasty dinner, and found
+Mr. Baker in the box office. The moving picture man did not recognize
+him, of course, and Duvall, after drawing him aside, had some little
+difficulty in convincing him of his identity. Once it had been
+established, however, Mr. Baker conducted him to a dressing room behind
+the scenes, and motioned him to a chair.
+
+"We can talk here without being seen or heard," he said. "Is there
+anything new?"
+
+"Nothing. I have taken Mrs. Morton and her daughter to a hotel, where I
+feel sure they will be quite safe from further annoyance. Ruth will not
+come to the studio for a few days, until we have gotten to the bottom of
+this affair. I am staying in an adjoining room, so as to be on hand at
+once in case of any trouble. I suppose you have everything fixed for
+to-night?"
+
+"Yes." Mr. Baker's tone was dubious. "I have inserted in the film the
+material you gave me. It will appear just at the end of Part I. I hope
+it will not spoil our picture."
+
+"I think not. As a matter of fact, when the reasons for its introduction
+become known, I imagine it will give you a lot of very valuable
+advertising."
+
+"Possibly so," Mr. Baker granted. "But after all, I begin to feel very
+doubtful as to the results. This woman, whoever she is, that is
+persecuting Miss Morton seems to be mighty clever. She may not be
+affected in the way you think, by what she sees on the screen."
+
+"I realize that. It is only a chance. But don't you think that, under
+the circumstances, it is a chance worth taking?"
+
+"Most certainly; otherwise I should not have consented to it. But, as I
+say, I doubt very much its success."
+
+"Well--we can only try. You will remember what I said about the lights,
+and the call for a doctor, if one appears to be needed."
+
+"Yes. I have all that in mind. Miss Morton is not coming to-night, I
+presume."
+
+"No. I advised against it."
+
+"I'm glad of that."
+
+Duvall sat in silence for a moment.
+
+"By the way," he said presently. "There is one important matter that I
+have overlooked. Do you give your employees passes for these opening
+performances?"
+
+"No--not regularly, that is. But any member of our organization who
+wishes to see the performance would of course be admitted. We reserve a
+section of the house for that purpose. A number of our people usually
+come over."
+
+"Good! That's just what I had hoped for. Where is this section?"
+
+"The last five rows on the left-hand side of the house. But why?"
+
+"Don't you see? All the evidence points to the fact that the person who
+is responsible for these threats either works in your studio, or is in
+some way able to gain access to it at any time. Witness the stolen
+photograph--the substituted telegram of this morning. In the latter it
+was definitely stated that the woman in the case would be in the
+audience to-night. I am hoping sincerely that she will not have the
+cleverness to enter as one of the public, but will come in as one of
+your people, and sit in the section of the house reserved exclusively
+for your employees. In that event, I think we shall discover who she is
+beyond a doubt."
+
+"I certainly hope so," sighed Mr. Baker. "This thing has got us all up
+in the air. Our President had a long conference with me this afternoon
+about Miss Morton. He seems to think she is going to pieces, and
+recommended trying to get Joan Clayton away from the Multigraph people
+to take her place. He says that she is losing her good looks. I told him
+nothing, of course, but it worried me a lot. I am very fond of Ruth
+Morton, and I don't want to see her lose her place."
+
+"She won't lose it," asserted Duvall. "When we get through, her position
+with your company will be stronger than it has ever been before. Shall
+we go out in the lobby and take a look at the crowd as it comes in?"
+
+Mr. Baker assented, and the two men stationed themselves near the box
+office.
+
+Without appearing to do so, Duvall inspected the various members of the
+incoming crowd. His scrutiny was careful, comprehensive, but the only
+person he recognized was Grace.
+
+That she also recognized him he knew. She had seen the disguise he wore,
+many times, and was familiar with it. She did not betray herself,
+however, by so much as a glance, but proceeded at once to her seat.
+
+When the moment arrived for the beginning of the performance, the house
+was filled. Duvall, with Baker at his side, stationed himself back of
+the left-hand section of seats, so that the rows reserved for the
+employees of the company were directly in front of him. He occupied
+himself, during the interval before the lights were switched off, by
+noting carefully all the women in the last five rows, but none of them
+attracted his attention particularly.
+
+Soon the performance began. Ruth Morton, the American Beauty, stepped
+upon the screen, a compelling vision of loveliness. The audience
+followed eagerly her exciting adventures. Duvall himself, in spite of
+his preoccupation, found himself absorbed by the charm and action of the
+picture. In the opening scenes, Ruth appeared as a poor girl, trying to
+make her way in the great world of the theater. Her struggles, her
+sacrifices, her failures, were almost vividly portrayed. When at last,
+through her marvelous beauty, she succeeded in gaining recognition from
+the critics, he applauded with those about him, completely under the
+spell of her charm.
+
+The final scene of the first part was a view of Ruth, as Catherine Grey,
+the American Beauty, refusing the dubious offers made her by a rich New
+Yorker. With a faith in herself by no means assumed, Catherine turned
+from his picture of luxury, of steam yachts, of country estates, of
+unlimited bank accounts, with a smile which showed her confidence in her
+beauty, her talents. The audience watched her, spellbound, as she stood
+on the sidewalk before the theater, looking with grave inscrutable eyes
+after the costly limousine that had just driven away without her. In no
+picture heretofore taken of the girl had she appeared to better
+advantage. Every line of her lovely face seemed responsive to the effect
+of the lighting, the situation, the motives which inspired her. The
+audience drew itself back, ready to register its approval of the first
+part of the film with hearty applause.
+
+And then, something happened. The lovely, smiling face of Ruth Morton
+faded from view, and in its place came with brutal suddenness the
+picture of a huge grinning death's head, amazing in its suggestion of
+horror. The audience sat in utter silence, wondering what could be the
+reason for this sudden apparition. Beneath the death's head appeared in
+huge letters the words:
+
+                      "We know the woman."
+
+The thing had come as a complete surprise. The tension throughout the
+house was electric. Duvall saw his wife rise from her seat on the aisle,
+a few rows away, and come quickly to the rear of the house. She, at
+least, realized that a moment of importance had arrived.
+
+And then, without warning, the stillness of the theater was broken by a
+sudden cry, and a woman, sitting some three rows from where Duvall
+stood, but on the opposite side of the aisle from the seats indicated by
+Mr. Baker, rose to her feet, turned, and fell heavily against the back
+of the seat ahead of her. At almost the same moment the lights were
+switched on, and a voice was heard calling. "Is there a doctor in the
+house?"
+
+It was Mr. Baker, and Duvall, who stood beside him, sprang forward at
+once.
+
+"I am a doctor," he cried, and approached the place where the woman sat.
+
+"Can I be of any assistance?" Grace asked. "I am a trained nurse."
+
+"Yes," replied Duvall, quickly. "Get this woman to the ladies' dressing
+room at once."
+
+Grace sprang forward. There was a bustle among the audience, a sudden
+rising, a craning of necks. Everyone seemed to be looking for the person
+who had uttered the sudden cry. Before anyone fully realized what had
+happened, Grace had reached the fainting woman's side, and supporting
+her with an arm about her waist, was leading her toward the rear of the
+house.
+
+Almost at once the theater became dark, and the second part of the
+picture was flashed upon the screen. The lovely face of Ruth Morton once
+more greeted the eyes of the audience. The interruption had occupied
+less than a minute.
+
+Duvall, standing at the entrance to the aisle, watched Grace come
+quickly toward him, supporting the fainting woman. The latter seemed
+completely overcome, and Grace was obliged almost to carry her.
+
+"Keep her there, in the dressing room, until I return," he said in a
+quick whisper. Then with a nod to Mr. Baker, who stood close by, he went
+toward the street. A taxicab drew up, awaiting a fare. Duvall signaled
+to it.
+
+"Wait for me here," he said to the driver. "I will be back in a moment."
+Then he re-entered the theater.
+
+Grace meanwhile had conducted the woman to the ladies' dressing room,
+and placed her upon a couch.
+
+She was a frail, insignificant looking creature, not at all the sort of
+person one would associate with threats of the kind that Ruth Morton had
+been receiving. She appeared to be greatly ashamed of her sudden
+collapse, and kept insisting, in spite of her evident weakness, that she
+was quite all right again, and wanted to go.
+
+Grace, however, paid no attention to her protestations, but insisted
+that she remain quiet.
+
+"The doctor will be here in a moment," she said. "You must wait quietly
+until he comes."
+
+The woman, however, seemed determined to leave, and it was with a sigh
+of relief that Grace welcomed her husband's return.
+
+Duvall came in hurriedly, as he did so taking a small brown bottle from
+his waistcoat pocket.
+
+"Get me a glass of water," he said to the negro maid. The woman brought
+one at once.
+
+Duvall took a tablet from the bottle and placed it in the glass,
+stirring the water about with the end of a lead pencil until the tablet
+was dissolved. Then he went up to the woman on the couch.
+
+"Here--drink this," he commanded. "It will quiet your nerves."
+
+The woman took the glass, her eyes regarding him with suspicion. Duvall,
+in his character of a physician, turned aside, and addressed a few words
+to Grace, fearing that in some way the woman might succeed in
+recognizing him. As a result both failed to see that instead of drinking
+the medicine he had given to her, the girl swiftly poured it upon the
+floor. When he again turned to her, she held the empty glass in her
+hand.
+
+Duvall took it from her, and handed it to Grace.
+
+"Come with me, Miss," he said. "I will see you home."
+
+"It isn't necessary," the woman gasped. "I--I'm all right now."
+
+"You have had a severe shock, Miss. As a physician, it is my duty to see
+that you arrive home safely. I have already engaged a cab. Come." He
+took the woman by the arm and in spite of her objections, raised her
+from the couch.
+
+Suddenly her opposition vanished. She seemed glad of his assistance,
+and, leaning on his arm, made her way from the theater. Duvall was in
+high spirits. He fully believed that his plan had succeeded, that the
+woman at his side was the one who was responsible for the threats which
+had made Ruth Morton so wretched for the past few days.
+
+The cab that he had engaged stood waiting at the door. He put the woman
+inside. She seemed very weak and helpless. "Drive to the ---- Hotel,"
+Duvall called to the chauffeur, then entered the cab and seated himself
+at the woman's side. He saw Mr. Baker standing upon the sidewalk, and
+nodded. Then they drove off.
+
+The woman lay, in a state of apparent collapse, in one corner of the
+cab, her face pale, her eyes closed. Duvall, inspecting her as well as
+he could in the faint light, began to feel grave doubts as to whether
+after all he had been successful in his ruse. She seemed so little the
+type of woman he would have associated with the brutal campaign of
+terror that had been directed against Miss Morton.
+
+She clutched a black leather satchel tightly in one hand. Duvall
+regarded it with interest. If he was right in his assumption that this
+was the woman he sought, it seemed highly probable that within that
+satchel lay evidence that might convict her. At least there would be
+some clue as to who she was, and that in itself would be valuable.
+
+The woman seemed to grow weaker and weaker. Her closed eyes, her slow
+but regular breathing, indicated that the drug he had given her had
+begun to take effect. Stealthily Duvall's hand reached toward the small
+black satchel. With eager fingers he pressed the catch, and as the bag
+opened, began to draw out its contents.
+
+The woman, however, seemed far less helpless than he had supposed. She
+pulled the satchel toward her, her fingers seeking to close it. Duvall
+discontinued his efforts at once. It would be time enough, he felt, when
+they had reached the hotel, and the woman had been safely conducted to a
+room there. He had made his plans carefully in advance, and arranged
+matters with the hotel manager. There was nothing to do, now, but wait.
+
+Presently the woman, who had been regarding him, unnoticed, from beneath
+lowered lids, uttered a groan, as though in great pain, and clutched her
+breast. Duvall turned to her at once, speaking in a soothing voice, and
+assuming a professional manner.
+
+"Is anything wrong, Miss? I had hoped you were feeling better."
+
+"No, doctor. I'm not. I feel terrible--terrible."
+
+"In what way?"
+
+"My--my heart. It is in awful shape. I need some stimulant. The--the
+medicine you gave me made me feel very ill."
+
+Her words surprised Duvall. He had given her a simple drug, the effect
+of which should have been to make her drowsy, to quiet her nerves. That
+she had not taken it, he of course did not know. His greatest fear had
+been that she would refuse to enter the cab with him. Now that she had
+done so, he was prepared to use even force, if necessary, to retain her
+in his custody until he had either obtained the evidence he desired, or
+forced from her a confession. What he particularly hoped to find was the
+seal with which the death's head impression had been made. He felt
+certain that, if this was the woman he sought, she would have this seal
+somewhere about her person. It was far too significant a bit of evidence
+to be left lying about at home.
+
+But there was always the chance that this woman, who had been so
+instantly affected by the ghastly apparition on the screen, the
+significant words beneath it, might not, after all, be the right one,
+the one he sought. There was always the possibility that the real
+criminal, although present in the audience, had made no sign, and that
+his companion in the cab might be entirely innocent. As he had told
+Baker, it was a chance--a long chance, yet something seemed to say to
+him that he had made no mistake in taking it. Now, however, a new
+situation had arisen to upset his plans. His prisoner, instead of having
+been quieted by the drug he had administered, was apparently becoming
+more and more agitated and nervous every minute. Her groans, as she lay
+huddled up in the corner of the cab, puzzled him, filled him with vague
+alarm. Was it possible that she had a weak heart? Had the sedative he
+had given her, harmless as he knew the dose would be to a normal person,
+affected her in so unfavorable a way? He took her wrist in his hand, and
+felt her pulse. It was quick, indicative of nervous excitement, but
+certainly not weak.
+
+"Oh--doctor, doctor, won't you _please_ give me something to make me
+feel a little better?" the woman gasped. "It's my heart, I tell you.
+I--I can't breathe. I'm suffocating. I must have something at once--some
+aromatic spirits of ammonia--some brandy--anything, to make me feel a
+little better."
+
+Her earnestness, her trembling voice, her excited manner, all served to
+convince Duvall that his companion was really in need of a stimulant of
+some sort. He decided to humor her. A dose of aromatic spirits, he
+reflected, could do no harm, and would doubtless serve to lessen her
+excitement. He leaned out, and directed the driver of the cab to stop at
+the nearest drug store.
+
+"Oh--thank you--thank you," the woman gasped. "Tell him to hurry,
+please." Then collapsing in the corner of the seat, she closed her eyes
+and sat so silent that Duvall began to wonder whether she had lost
+consciousness.
+
+The taxicab, meanwhile, had drawn up in front of a drug store on Sixth
+Avenue. Duvall took a look at the apparently unconscious woman, then
+spoke quickly to the chauffeur.
+
+"Stay here until I return," he said. "Don't go away under any
+circumstances. I shall be gone but a moment."
+
+The man nodded.
+
+"I'll stay, sir," he said. "Don't worry."
+
+Duvall went quickly into the store. Going up to the soda counter, he
+instructed the clerk to prepare him a dose of aromatic spirits of
+ammonia as quickly as possible. While waiting for it, he watched the cab
+through the store window.
+
+The preparation of the dose required but a few moments. Then, explaining
+matters to the clerk, Duvall took the glass in his hand and went back to
+the cab. He smiled to himself at his anxiety, as he passed through the
+door. The woman was far too ill, he reflected, to entertain any thoughts
+of escape.
+
+"Here," the detective said, opening the door of the cab. "Drink this."
+
+There was no response. Duvall stuck his head into the vehicle with some
+misgivings. Then he experienced a sudden and most mortifying shock.
+There was no fainting woman huddled against the cushions in the far
+corner. There was no woman at all. _The cab was empty!_
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER XI
+
+
+Richard Duvall had had charge of many unusual and intricate cases, in
+the past, and he prided himself upon the fact that he had handled them
+with skill and discretion, and that the results which had followed had
+been both quick and decisive. But in all his career he had not, so far
+as he could remember, ever felt quite so chagrined, as he did when he
+threw open the door of the cab and found that the woman he had left
+there had disappeared.
+
+The fault was his, he knew that well--entirely and unmistakably his.
+This woman was evidently far more clever, more subtle than he had
+imagined. He realized now that she had in all probability not taken the
+drug he had given her in the dressing room of the theater, that she had
+seen his effort to examine the contents of her handbag, that her
+weakness, her call for a stimulant of some sort had been but clever
+acting, and that she had purposely sent him into the drug store in order
+that she might escape. He blamed himself, utterly and completely, for
+his amazing stupidity in not realizing that the woman, instead of
+ordering the cabman to drive away, had only to slip out through the door
+on the opposite side of the vehicle, and vanish in the darkness.
+
+And this she had quite evidently done. The door of the cab opposite him
+stood open. No doubt she had purposely refrained from closing it,
+fearing that the click of the lock might attract the driver's attention.
+The latter with his eyes following Duvall, as the detective entered the
+store, had remained serenely unconscious of his passenger's movements,
+her clever escape.
+
+At least three or four minutes had elapsed. Duvall glanced up and down
+the street, but no sight of the vanished woman greeted his anxious gaze.
+She had had ample time to reach the next corner, and disappear in the
+darkness. Thoughts of pursuit entered his mind, but he realized at once
+the fruitlessness of such an attempt. His captive might have fled east
+or west, at either of the streets north or south of where he stood. Or
+she might have entered some restaurant, some motion picture house, or
+other convenient doorway along the Avenue. She might even have boarded a
+Sixth Avenue car, or hailed a passing cab. He looked up at the
+chauffeur, who still sat at his steering wheel, totally unaware of the
+flight of one of his passengers.
+
+"The woman has gone," Duvall exclaimed, nodding toward the vacant cab.
+
+The man turned in complete surprise. He seemed scarcely able to credit
+the evidence of his senses.
+
+"I--why sir--she was here just a moment ago, sir," he gasped, gazing
+into the interior of the cab as though he expected its recent occupant
+to suddenly materialize in the flesh.
+
+"She got out on the other side, while I was in the store," Duvall
+remarked, shortly, then taking an electric searchlight from his pocket,
+made a thorough examination of the interior of the cab. He scarcely
+expected to find anything, although it flashed through his mind that the
+woman, in her hurry to escape, might have left her bag, her gloves, or
+something that might afford him a clue to her identity.
+
+At first he saw nothing. Then, as his eyes became more accustomed to the
+brilliant glare of the electric torch, he observed a bit of white
+cardboard lying on the floor. It looked like a visiting card, and he
+snatched it up, devoutly hoping that it had fallen from the woman's bag
+during the attempt he had made to rifle it.
+
+Under the light of his pocket lamp he made a quick examination of his
+find. It proved a lamentable disappointment. It was in fact a visiting
+card, or to be more correct, the torn half of one, but what was engraved
+upon it afforded him not the least clue to either the identity or the
+address of the woman he sought. On the first line were the words, "Miss
+Mar"--then came the torn edge of the card. On the second line there was
+but the figure 1, and then the break.
+
+Was the name so tantalizingly suggested by the letters before him "Miss
+Mary" something or other? Or "Miss Margaret?" Or was it "Miss Martin,"
+or "Miss Marvin," or "Miss Marbury," or any one of a score of other
+names beginning with the letters "Mar?" And what was the missing
+address? What numbers followed the figure 1, on that part of the card
+that had been torn off? And what was the name of the street? He realized
+at once that while what he had found might, under certain circumstances,
+act as a suggestion, it would not serve to get him very far, unless
+reinforced by other and more definite evidence. He thought for a moment
+of securing from Mr. Baker a list of the women employees of the studio.
+It was true, he remembered, that his prisoner had not been seated in
+that particular section of the house reserved for the company's
+employees, but that might have readily come from the fact that the
+section was fully occupied when she arrived. Then, as more names
+beginning with "Mar" occurred to him, the futility of the idea became
+apparent. Apart from any possible number of Marys, and Margarets there
+were Martha, Maria, Marcia, Marian, Marcella--others perhaps. Of course
+he would be able to recognize the woman, if he saw her, but she would be
+too clever to return to her place in the studio the following day, if by
+any chance she worked there, knowing, as she must inevitably know, that
+she would be identified at once.
+
+Still, there was of course the chance that Mr. Baker might have
+recognized her. He presumably knew all the employees of his company by
+sight. Duvall got into the cab with a mortifying sense of having made a
+very foolish blunder, and directed the cabman to drive him back to the
+Grand Theater.
+
+Mr. Baker was waiting in the lobby when the detective arrived, and at a
+nod from the latter the two men retired to the dressing room in which
+they had had their previous consultation. The moving picture man's face
+was eager, expectant, as he waited for Duvall to speak, and the latter
+felt his chagrin increase by the moment.
+
+When he had at last finished his account of the affair, Mr. Baker looked
+exceedingly grave.
+
+"Too bad--too bad," he muttered, "to have had her in our hands like
+that, and then, to lose her."
+
+"Did you ever see the woman before?" Duvall questioned.
+
+"No. Of course she might be in our employ, but I doubt it, although I
+could not be expected to know by sight every girl who works in the
+plant. There are stenographers, film cutters and pasters, dozens of
+others, that I do not engage directly, and never see. Let me look at the
+card."
+
+Duvall handed the torn bit of pasteboard to him.
+
+"Not much to go on," he said, quietly.
+
+"No. Not much."
+
+"Of course," the detective went on, "the evening has not been entirely
+wasted. We know the woman by sight, and that is a great deal. As for her
+name, I have made a careful study of this card, and assuming it to have
+been of the usual length in comparison to its width, the name following
+the 'Miss,' if it was a first name, points to a very short one, such as
+Mary, and not a long one, such as Margaret."
+
+"How do you make that out?"
+
+"Simply enough. The entire name would of course have been placed in the
+center of the card, which was, it appears, torn almost exactly in half.
+On the left-hand side, which we have in our possession, there are, in
+the word 'Miss,' four letters, and in 'Mar' three, or seven in all. We
+should correspondingly expect to find seven letters on the right or
+missing half of the card. But were the first name Margaret, or Marcella,
+which each contain eight letters, or five to be added to the 'Mar' we
+already have, it would leave but two letters for the woman's last name,
+and names of that length, or rather shortness, are so rare as to be
+negligible. It is far more probable that we have but to add a 'y' to the
+'Mar,' or one letter, leaving six for the last name. This would give us
+'Miss Mar-y Gordon,' with the name evenly divided by the tear. Or, if by
+chance, the first name is such a one as Marian, containing six letters,
+we need add but the 'ian,' or three letters, to the left-hand side of
+our card, leaving us four letters for the last name. Thus, Miss Marian
+Kent. The full name on the card should have just fourteen letters,
+provided the card is, as I conclude, torn exactly in half."
+
+"Why do you conclude that?"
+
+"Because visiting cards of this sort are usually made in standard sizes.
+I happen to have a woman's card--Miss Morton's, in fact, in my pocket.
+Its width is the same as that of the torn card, and if the latter was of
+the same length, you can readily see that it was torn exactly in half."
+He took a card from his wallet and laid the torn bit of pasteboard upon
+it. Their widths were identical. The whole card was just twice the
+length of the torn one.
+
+"That is a most interesting deduction," Baker exclaimed. "What use can
+we make of it?"
+
+"I will tell you. You have your car here, have you not?"
+
+"Yes."
+
+"Then I suggest that we run down to the studio at once, get your list of
+employees, examine the name of every woman upon it, and see if we cannot
+find one of fourteen letters, including the 'Miss,' of which the first
+name begins with 'Mar.' The chances are that we will be able to locate
+the name immediately."
+
+"Yes," Mr. Baker exclaimed, rising in some excitement, "but, as you have
+before said, the woman, if she works for us, will not dare to appear in
+the morning, for fear that she will be recognized at once."
+
+"That is true, but you will no doubt have on your books her home
+address. If we hurry, we can get there and back by midnight, and we may
+be able to place our hands on the woman before she can have time to
+escape."
+
+Mr. Baker reached the door in two steps.
+
+"Come along," he said. "We'll burn up the roads."
+
+The two men said little, during their long ride. When they reached the
+entrance to the dark and silent studio building, only the night watchman
+appeared to greet them.
+
+Inside the building, however, there were more signs of life. Some stage
+carpenters were busy, working overtime on a piece of scenery. In the
+developing and drying departments were also signs of activity. Mr. Baker
+led the way to his office. "It happens," he said, "that as I am obliged
+to O. K. the payroll each week, I have a list of our employees in my
+desk." As he spoke, he took his keys, opened a drawer, and drew out a
+small red book.
+
+"Here is the list, with the home addresses," he said. "How shall we go
+to work?"
+
+"Read me all the women's names, in which the first name begins with
+'Mar,'" Duvall said. "I will put them down on a sheet of paper." He drew
+a pad toward him, took out his pencil, and the two set to work.
+
+When they had at last reached the end of the book, both Duvall and Mr.
+Baker were surprised to find that the names they had picked out were so
+few. In all there were but eight, as follows:
+
+      Miss Mary Sollenberger,
+      Miss Mary Green,
+      Miss Margaret Schwartz,
+      Miss Maria Rosenheim,
+      Miss Martha Simmons,
+      Miss Marcia Ford,
+      Miss Marian Greenberg,
+      Miss Mary King.
+
+Duvall ran his pencil down the list of names. "There is but one that
+fulfills the requirements," he announced. "The sixth name, that of Miss
+Marcia Ford, contains in all fourteen letters. None of the others do.
+Two, those of Miss King and Miss Green, come the nearest. Miss King's
+full name contains twelve letters, Miss Green's, thirteen. Any one of
+the three _might_ be the one we seek."
+
+"I can answer for Miss King at once," said Mr. Baker, quietly. "She is
+my stenographer, and most certainly _not_ the woman who was in the
+theater to-night."
+
+"That leaves then, Miss Green and Miss Ford. What do they do, and what
+are their addresses?"
+
+Mr. Baker referred to his book.
+
+"Miss Green is a telephone operator. Her address is given here as 310
+Gold Street, Brooklyn. Miss Ford is a film cutter, and lives at 122 West
+9th Street, New York."
+
+"Neither sounds particularly promising," Duvall remarked, with a frown.
+
+"No. But of course we are assuming that the woman in question works in
+the studio. If she does _not_, our whole fabric falls to pieces." Duvall
+took the torn piece of card from his pocket and glanced at it.
+
+"The address given here begins with the number 1," he said,
+significantly. "It may be that Miss Marcia Ford, of 122 West Ninth
+Street, is the woman we are looking for, although I confess I should
+have suspected some rival motion picture star, rather than a film
+cutter."
+
+"By George, I forgot the fact that the card had an address on it," Baker
+exclaimed. "I think we had better look up Miss Ford at once."
+
+"I agree with you," Duvall said. A few moments later they were driving
+at top speed back toward New York.
+
+It was five minutes to twelve when they reached the corner of Fifth
+Avenue and Ninth Street and turned west. Duvall realized that they were
+following a very slim clue, but it seemed for the moment the only
+promising one they had.
+
+The house, No. 122, proved to be a typical high stooped, brownstone
+boarding house of this section of the city. It was for the most part
+dark, although one or two of the upper windows showed lights.
+
+Accompanied by Baker, Duvall quickly mounted the steps and rang the
+bell. At first there was no answer, although they could hear the sound
+of the bell tinkling mournfully inside. A second summons brought no
+greater response. At the third, a woman's head appeared in one of the
+upper windows, and they heard a shrill and not over pleasant voice
+asking them what they wanted.
+
+"I have an important message for Miss Marcia Ford," Duvall replied
+pleasantly. "I must see her at once."
+
+"Miss Ford moved away from here three months ago," the woman snapped.
+
+"Will you please give me her present address?" the detective exclaimed,
+somewhat taken aback.
+
+"I don't know it. She didn't say where she was going. Good night!" A
+moment later the window above them was closed with a slam.
+
+The two men stood staring at each other in the utmost disappointment.
+They had expected a more favorable outcome of their expedition.
+
+"How long has she been with you?" Duvall asked, turning to his
+companion.
+
+"I don't know. Certainly over three months, or we shouldn't have this
+address on our books. I suppose, when she changed it, she omitted to
+notify us. What are we going to do now?"
+
+"There isn't anything we can do, until morning. If Miss Marcia Ford
+reports for work to-morrow, and you see that she is the woman who
+fainted in the theater to-night, have her arrested at once. If she
+doesn't report for work, at least we shall know that she is the woman we
+are after."
+
+"That isn't much consolation," Mr. Baker grumbled.
+
+"I don't agree with you. Having the woman's name, knowing her
+appearance, we are certain to catch her, sooner or later. And in the
+meanwhile, I do not think that she will attempt anything further so far
+as Miss Morton is concerned. We are too close on her trail, for that."
+
+"I hope you are right," said the motion picture man. "Well, I guess I'll
+go along home. I'll be at the studio first thing in the morning,
+however, and I suppose you will be there too."
+
+"By all means. I am most curious to see whether our reasoning to-night
+has been correct."
+
+"Shall I take you to your hotel in my car?"
+
+"No, thanks. I'll take a taxi. Good night."
+
+"Good night."
+
+A few moments later, Duvall was speeding up Fifth Avenue, his brain
+still puzzling over the curious contradictions which the events of the
+night had developed. On one point he felt secure, however. He was
+certain that the woman who had so narrowly escaped him earlier in the
+evening would not soon again attempt anything against Ruth Morton.
+
+Arrived at his hotel, he asked for his key. The man behind the desk,
+with a queer look, handed him along with it a slip of paper. On it was
+written: "Mrs. Bradley wishes Mr. John Bradley to come to her room at
+the moment he returns."
+
+"When was this message left?" the detective asked.
+
+"Oh--nearly two hours ago. The time is stamped on the back of it, sir."
+
+Duvall turned the card over, and saw from the stamp on the other side
+that Mrs. Morton had sent for him at half past ten.
+
+"The message was phoned down by the lady herself," the clerk added, by
+way of explanation.
+
+Duvall went up in the elevator, and a few moments later, was knocking at
+the door of Mrs. Morton's suite.
+
+The latter herself appeared in the doorway. She was pale and agitated.
+"Come in, Mr. Duvall," she said.
+
+The detective entered, closing the door behind him.
+
+"What is wrong, Mrs. Morton?" he asked.
+
+"There has been another warning--a dreadful one," the older woman
+exclaimed, her voice trembling. "It came a little after ten."
+
+"What was it?" Duvall's voice was almost as strained as that of the
+woman before him. Her words came to him as a complete surprise. Had all
+the work of the evening, then, been wasted?
+
+"At a little after ten," Mrs. Morton said slowly, "I sent my maid Nora
+out for some medicine for my daughter. She went to a drug store some
+three blocks away. As she returned to the hotel, she saw a young woman
+standing near the entrance, apparently watching those who went in and
+out. As soon as the maid came up to the doorway, the woman stepped up to
+her, and thrusting a package into her hands, said quickly, 'Give this to
+Miss Ruth Morton. It is from the studio.' Then she walked away at once.
+
+"Nora, as she tells me, did not know just what to do. You will remember
+that while she realizes from our presence here under an assumed name,
+that something is wrong, she knows little or nothing of the
+circumstances surrounding Ruth's terrible persecution. Hence she
+foolishly took both the medicine and the package the woman had given
+her, to my daughter."
+
+"Yes--yes--go on," Duvall exclaimed, seeing Mrs. Morton pause.
+
+"Ruth opened them both. I was in the next room at the moment. Suddenly I
+heard a cry, and on rushing in, found her standing in the center of the
+room, holding a small bottle in one hand, and staring at it in the
+utmost consternation. In her other hand was a sheet of paper, which, as
+I subsequently found, had been wrapped around the bottle, inside the
+outer brown-paper cover.
+
+"The bottle was labeled 'carbolic acid.' Here is the sheet of paper."
+Mrs. Morton, with trembling fingers, extended a half sheet of note-paper
+toward the detective.
+
+Duvall took it and read the typewritten words upon it.
+
+"We gave you thirty days. Now we give you seven. Drink this, and save
+yourself from a horrible fate." The death's head signature ended the
+message. "Ruth has been very ill ever since," Mrs. Morton added
+drearily. "If she is not better in the morning, I shall call in a
+doctor. She felt herself absolutely safe, here, and was recovering her
+cheerfulness. Now all her fears have returned with redoubled force. I am
+terribly worried about her--terribly worried." Taking out her
+handkerchief, the poor woman wiped the tears from her eyes. "How could
+these people have known we were here?" she whispered, in an awed voice.
+"It seems like the work of fiends."
+
+There was little that the detective could say in reply. Even to his
+sober judgment, there came a suggestion of the uncanny, the
+supernatural. The woman in the cab had escaped at half past nine,
+presumably quite ignorant of the location of Mrs. Morton's retreat. Half
+an hour later, the campaign of intimidation was renewed with greater
+vigor than before.
+
+"I'm afraid, Mrs. Morton," he said, "that it will be necessary for you
+to remain with your daughter every minute of the time, for a day or two.
+By then, I am convinced that we shall have laid our hands on the guilty
+parties. Good night."
+
+Duvall rose very early the following morning, and drove at once to the
+studio, but early as he was, Mr. Baker was there before him.
+
+The latter was seated in his office, poring over a mass of reports, when
+Duvall entered. He glanced up, rose, shook hands nervously, then
+motioned to a chair.
+
+"Nothing new yet," he said. "My stenographer, Miss King, is here.
+Neither Miss Green nor Miss Ford have yet arrived, but it is still a
+little early. Miss King came before her usual time, as she had some
+reports to get out that she could not complete last night. We have at
+least fifteen minutes to wait."
+
+Duvall told him to proceed with his work, and drawing a newspaper from
+his pocket, made an effort to interest himself in it. In this, however,
+he was not very successful. Time after time his mind would wander from
+the printed sheet before him to the strange events of the night before.
+The thing that puzzled him most was, how did the persecutors of Miss
+Morton discover her new address so soon? Was the woman who had handed
+the package to Nora, the maid, the same one that had vanished from the
+cab? He remembered that it had been about nine o'clock when they left
+the Grand Theater, and perhaps half-past when he had gone into the drug
+store in Sixth Avenue to get the aromatic spirits of ammonia. Had the
+woman gone directly from the cab to the hotel? She must have done so,
+without much loss of time, in order to reach there by ten o'clock. How
+had she known the address? He knew very well that he had given it to the
+cabman, when they started away from the theater. Had the supposedly
+fainting woman overheard his words? If she had, and had so promptly
+acted upon them, she was far more clever and determined than her
+appearance would seem to warrant. He revolved the matter endlessly in
+his mind, waiting for Mr. Baker to announce that the time had come, when
+Miss Ford's or Miss Green's arrival or non-arrival would indicate which
+of the two, if either, was the woman they sought.
+
+Suddenly the bell of the telephone on Mr. Baker's desk ran sharply. He
+answered it, then turned to Duvall.
+
+"Miss Green, the telephone operator, is at her desk," he said. "Would
+you like to take a look at her?"
+
+"Yes." The detective arose, and followed Mr. Baker into the corridor.
+The switchboard of the building was located at the end of the hall, in a
+small bare room. When they reached it, Mr. Baker spoke to a dark-haired,
+rather stout, woman who sat at the desk.
+
+"Miss Green," he said, "if any calls come in for Mr. Duvall, he will be
+in my office." Then he went back along the corridor.
+
+"She certainly isn't the woman we are after," he remarked to Duvall, as
+soon as they were out of earshot.
+
+"No. It must be Miss Ford," the detective replied.
+
+"Suppose we go to the developing and finishing department," Baker
+suggested. "It is time all our people were on hand. Mr. Emmett, who is
+in charge there, can tell us about Miss Ford."
+
+They crossed to the other side of the building, and entered a small
+office. A bald-headed man sat at a littered desk.
+
+"Mr. Emmett," Baker said, "shake hands with Mr. Duvall. He is looking
+for a young woman in the finishing department. Miss Marcia Ford. Has she
+come in yet?"
+
+"No," replied the bald-headed man, gravely shaking hands. "She is not
+here this morning. It is rather surprising, too, for she usually is on
+time."
+
+"What sort of a looking woman is she?" Duvall inquired.
+
+"Oh--a rather insignificant looking girl of about twenty-five. Small,
+slender, not very prepossessing, but clever--enormously clever. One of
+the best film cutters we have. I should be sorry to lose her."
+
+"Light blue eyes, and light hair," Duvall questioned. "And a thin,
+rather cruel mouth?"
+
+"Exactly. But why? Has she gotten into any trouble?"
+
+"No--I hope not. I merely wanted to see her."
+
+"Well--of course she may show up later, although as I say she has
+usually been very punctual. I shouldn't be surprised if she is sick.
+She's been acting rather peculiarly, the past few days."
+
+"How so?" asked Duvall, quickly.
+
+"I can't say--exactly. I got the impression from her manner that she was
+nervous, excited, out of sorts. Merely an impression, but such things
+count."
+
+"Telephone me, Emmett," Mr. Baker said, "if she comes in during the next
+hour. Come along, Mr. Duvall, you can wait in my office."
+
+They returned to the other side of the immense building, and Duvall sat
+down to wait. He felt sure that they were on the right track, and was
+impatient to get back to New York and try to locate the missing woman.
+The description given by Mr. Emmett left little doubt in his mind that
+she and Miss Marcia Ford were one and the same. He sat in Mr. Baker's
+office, reading the paper, waiting anxiously for the hour the latter had
+specified to pass.
+
+After what seemed an interminable wait, Mr. Baker glanced at his watch,
+then rose.
+
+"It is ten o'clock, Mr. Duvall," he announced. "Miss Ford has not come,
+or Mr. Emmett would have notified me. I do not see that there is
+anything further to be accomplished here."
+
+As he spoke, the telephone bell rang sharply. Mr. Baker picked up the
+receiver, listened intently for a few moments, then slammed the receiver
+back upon the hook.
+
+"Hell!" he ejaculated softly.
+
+"What is it?" Duvall asked.
+
+"Miss Ford has just reported for work!"
+
+
+
+
+PART III
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER XII
+
+
+The announcement, made by Mr. Baker, that Miss Marcia Ford, the film
+cutter, had reported for work, filled Duvall with astonishment. He had
+expected nothing of the sort, so convinced was he that the girl in
+question was the one they were looking for, the one who had been
+persecuting Ruth Morton, the motion picture star, with her threats.
+
+He rose from his seat, in Mr. Baker's office at the studio, and turned
+toward the door. "If Miss Ford has reported for work," he said, "I had
+better take a look at her at once. If she is the woman who escaped from
+the cab, last night, I shall have no difficulty in recognizing her. But
+I am afraid it is out of the question. Knowing that both you and I had
+seen her, when she fainted at the theater, she would not dare to put in
+an appearance here to-day. The thing is utterly incomprehensible.
+
+"Still, she might suppose that we would not suspect her, that she could
+carry on her work in the studio without anyone being the wiser. I seldom
+go into that part of the building, myself, and she would certainly not
+expect to see you. In fact, it may not have occurred to her that we
+suspect one of our employees, in spite of the stolen photograph or the
+fake telegram."
+
+"Suppose we take a look at her at once. That will settle the whole
+question," Duvall urged.
+
+"Very well." Mr. Baker closed his desk and the two men crossed the
+corridor and made their way into that part of the studio building
+devoted to the developing and finishing of the films.
+
+Mr. Emmett, the head of the department, was seated at his desk when they
+arrived.
+
+"So the Ford girl is here," Baker said at once.
+
+"Yes, sir. She came in about ten minutes ago, explaining her lateness by
+saying that she was ill, when she got up this morning, and was not sure
+that she could get here at all. Shall I send for her?"
+
+"No," Duvall interposed quickly. "Pardon me, Mr. Baker," he turned to
+the latter, "but if we send for this girl, it will arouse her
+suspicions. Of course I do not think she is the woman we are looking
+for, but she may be in league with her. Would it not be better to have
+Mr. Emmett and yourself conduct me through the room in which she works,
+as though I were a visitor to the studio? You can readily point her out
+to me as we pass, and that will give me ample opportunity to recognize
+her, in case I have ever seen her before."
+
+"I think that a very good idea," returned Baker. He said a few words to
+Mr. Emmett, and the three men set out to go through the rooms in which
+the film cutting and pasting were done.
+
+At one of the tables a girl of about twenty was at work. As they passed,
+Mr. Emmett turned his head and nodded. The girl did not look up, and the
+three men continued their way through the room.
+
+When they again reached the hall, Mr. Baker turned to Duvall.
+
+"Well?" he questioned.
+
+"It is not the woman," the detective said. "I did not suppose it would
+be. There is some slight resemblance, of course. The color of the eyes
+and hair is the same, and the features are somewhat alike. However, I am
+very much afraid, Mr. Baker, that I have wasted both your time and mine.
+And yet, I cannot get over my original impression, that the person
+responsible for these threats is connected, in some way, with your
+company."
+
+Baker, puzzled and disappointed as well, led the way back to his office.
+Duvall, however, when they reached it, did not enter.
+
+"I shall not remain any longer, at present," he said. "I have an idea
+that I can accomplish more in town. Perhaps I may discover something
+there--some clue, that will enable us to make progress. I have a plan
+that may result in something."
+
+"What is it?" Mr. Baker asked.
+
+"I prefer not to say yet. If anything develops, I will let you know.
+Good day."
+
+The taxicab in which he had made the trip down was still waiting for
+him. An hour later he had reached his hotel.
+
+The disguise of the night before he had discarded. The woman in the cab
+had penetrated it. His presence, and that of Mrs. Morton, at the uptown
+hotel, was known. There seemed to be no further purpose, for the
+present, in attempting to preserve his incognito. He went to his room at
+once, and knocked on the door which separated it from the apartment of
+Mrs. Morton and her daughter. The door was opened by the maid, who
+ushered him into the little parlor.
+
+"I will tell Mrs. Morton that you are here," the girl said, and went
+into the next room.
+
+Mrs. Morton came out presently, her face pale and drawn. Duvall knew at
+once that she had been up all night, watching, no doubt, beside her
+daughter.
+
+"How is Miss Ruth?" he asked.
+
+"She is better. She had a fairly good night's rest, and her fever has
+left her."
+
+"I am glad to hear that. I hope there have been no further threats."
+
+"No. Not yet. But I never know at what moment something may happen. It
+is terrible--terrible, living under a shadow like this."
+
+As she spoke, the telephone bell rang.
+
+"You answer it, Mr. Duvall," she said, turning quickly to the door by
+which she had entered, and closing it. "I do not think I can stand
+anything more at present."
+
+Duvall took down the receiver. Someone was asking for Mr. John Bradley.
+
+"This is Mr. Bradley," he said, then suddenly recognized his wife's
+voice. "Is this you, Richard?" she asked.
+
+"Yes. What is it?"
+
+"If you have time, to-day, come down and see me. I have something I want
+to tell you. Something important."
+
+"Very well. I will be there in half an hour. Good-by." He hung up the
+receiver.
+
+"Was it anything--anything _more_, Mr. Duvall?" asked Mrs. Morton.
+
+"No. Nothing of that sort. Well, I must go along now. I merely looked in
+to ask after your daughter. There is one thing I want you to do,
+however, and that is, let me have a key to your apartment on 57th
+Street."
+
+Mrs. Morton took the key from her purse, and handed it to him.
+
+"Haven't you any good news, yet?" she asked, somewhat pathetically.
+
+"Not yet--at least nothing very definite. I know the woman who is
+annoying your daughter by sight, however, and I think I can safely
+assure you that she will be under arrest before very long. Matters of
+this sort take time, Mrs. Morton. Remember that I have had charge of the
+case but three days, and these people we are looking for are shrewd,
+leaving few clues. But I feel that I shall have something definite to
+report very soon now."
+
+"I hope so, I'm sure. Good day."
+
+"Good day." Duvall left the room, and taking a taxi, drove down to see
+Grace.
+
+He found her sitting at the writing desk, in the reception room of their
+suite, apparently busy over a letter. She pushed the sheet of paper
+aside, when her husband entered, and threw her arms about his neck.
+
+"Richard!" she exclaimed, "I'm so glad to see you. It has been ages.
+What's the matter with you? You look dreadfully blue."
+
+Duvall threw himself into a chair.
+
+"I'm a bit disgusted with myself," he said.
+
+"What about? I may ask you now, may I not? Is it about that wretched
+Morton case? I must talk to you about that. May I? You see, you rather
+got me into it, last night, and I got myself into it, too, by coming up
+to your hotel to see you, and now you've got to tell me how things
+turned out, after you left the theater, or I shall not know just what to
+do."
+
+"About what?"
+
+"I'll tell you that, after I hear about last night."
+
+Duvall laughed, although a trifle grimly.
+
+"I'm not particularly proud of last night," he said.
+
+"Wasn't the woman who fainted the one you were after?" asked Grace.
+
+"Yes. I'm sure she was. But unfortunately, she got away from me." He
+outlined to Grace the circumstances which led up to the woman's escape
+from the cab.
+
+"You say she was a small, slight woman, with light hair?"
+
+"Yes. Why?"
+
+"Then I may know something about her."
+
+"What?"
+
+"I'll tell you. You remember that, when I came up to see you at the
+hotel yesterday afternoon, you were greatly put out, because you were
+afraid that I might have been followed, thus disclosing the name of your
+hotel to these people you are trying to avoid?"
+
+"Yes. I was afraid of it. And the people in question did find out in
+some way where I had taken Miss Morton and her mother, as I discovered
+last night."
+
+"They did not discover it through me."
+
+"How do you know?"
+
+"It came about in a curious way. After you told me, over the telephone,
+that you feared I might have been followed, I looked up the taxi driver
+who took me uptown, and asked him if anyone had tried to question him. I
+thought that possibly this hotel might have been watched, and, if so,
+the person who was watching it might have noticed the number of my car,
+or the driver, and later, applied to him for information. I saw him as
+soon as I returned. No one had done so."
+
+"That is all very well, but they might have asked him, and found out
+where he drove you, later."
+
+"They did ask him, later. Why is it, Richard, that you seem to forget
+that I have done detective work before, too? I suspected that he might
+be approached, and I subsidized him--gave him ten dollars, and
+instructed him to let me know, in case anyone questioned him about me.
+
+"Well, late yesterday afternoon, a woman, answering the description you
+give, did apply to the cabman to find out where he had driven me.
+Naturally he told her nothing. Then, thinking, I suppose, that I might
+repeat my visit, she gave him five dollars, and told him to let her know
+in case I drove from here to any other hotel. She figured, no doubt,
+that being your wife, I was certain to go and see you."
+
+Duvall sat forward in his chair, an eager look upon his face.
+
+"You did splendidly, Grace," he said. "Much better than I have done. But
+the important point is this. How was the cabman to let her know, and
+where? Did she give him her name and address?"
+
+"She gave him a name and address. It is about that, that I wanted to see
+you."
+
+"What was it?"
+
+"Alice Watson. General Delivery. He was to write her a letter."
+
+Duvall sank back in his chair with a disappointed look.
+
+"An assumed name, of course," he said. "I'm afraid it won't be of much
+service to us."
+
+"But why? I was going to write this woman a letter, giving her the name
+of some other hotel--any one would do. Then, she would come there to
+find you, we could have the cabman, Leary, on watch to point her out,
+and in that way identify her and perhaps follow her to her home." Duvall
+shook his head.
+
+"It would have worked splendidly, my dear," he said, "except for the
+fact that in some way the woman has already discovered the name of my
+hotel. She will not go to the general delivery window at the post office
+to get it, now, for she already knows it. And if she did, she would
+realize as soon as she read your letter that you were not telling her
+the truth. Is that what you have been so busy about?" He glanced at the
+half-finished letter that lay on his wife's desk.
+
+"Yes." Grace looked at him rather sheepishly. "I am terribly
+disappointed," she said. "I really hoped that I had discovered something
+that would help you." She took from the desk the piece of paper that
+contained Alice Watson's address, and tearing it into bits, dropped them
+slowly into the waste basket.
+
+Duvall observed her action.
+
+"What are you tearing up?" he asked.
+
+"Oh, nothing. Merely the bit of paper that contained the woman's assumed
+name and address. It is of no use any longer." She glanced at a scrap of
+the paper, about half an inch square, that remained between her fingers,
+then started. "There must have been something on the other side," she
+exclaimed. "There's a part of a name here--printed or engraved. It looks
+like 'Ford.'"
+
+Duvall sprang from his chair and made a dive for the scrap basket.
+
+"Ford!" he exclaimed. "That's queer! We must get every scrap of that
+card at once."
+
+It took the two of them several minutes to gather from the basket the
+tiny pieces into which Grace had torn the bit of paper. Then they fitted
+them together. Duvall saw at once, as soon as he picked up the first
+scrap, that the address had been written on a card. When the several
+pieces had at last been assembled upon the top of the desk, it became
+quite clear that the Watson name and address had been hastily scrawled
+upon the torn half of a visiting card. Slowly and carefully Duvall
+turned the bits over. The words engraved upon the opposite side filled
+him with delight.
+
+There were first the letters "cia," followed by the name "Ford." Beneath
+were two figures, a "6" and a "2," and after them, West 57th Street.
+
+Duvall gazed at the result in surprise, then taking from his pocketbook
+the torn half of the card he had found the night before in the cab, he
+laid it beside the fragments on the desk. The two fitted exactly. The
+name and address were both plain. Evidently the woman who had
+interviewed the cabman, Leary, and the woman who had escaped from the
+cab were one and the same. She had taken a card from her purse, torn it
+in half, written the "Alice Watson" address that she gave the cabman on
+one half, and thrust the other back into her handbag. Later, when Duvall
+had attempted to examine the contents of the bag, the bit of card had
+fallen to the floor. All that was sufficiently clear.
+
+Grace, looking over her husband's shoulder, read the completed name and
+address.
+
+"Miss Marcia Ford," she exclaimed. "162 West 57th Street. Why, Richard,
+there is the name and address of the woman you want."
+
+"It may be her address," her husband remarked, gloomily, "but it
+certainly isn't her name."
+
+"But--Why not?"
+
+"Because I saw Marcia Ford this morning, and _she isn't the woman_!"
+
+Grace looked at him in astonishment. "Are you sure?" she cried.
+
+"Perfectly. Marcia Ford is not the one we are after."
+
+"Then how do you explain the woman having a card with that name on it?"
+
+"I don't explain it--unless," he paused for a moment in thought. "Unless
+this Ford woman, and the other one, are in league with each other, which
+might account for the latter having her card in her purse."
+
+"And the address! Is that where Marcia Ford lives?"
+
+"I don't know. It may be where they both live, for all I can tell. I
+only hope it is." He rose and took up his hat.
+
+"Where are you going?" Grace asked.
+
+"To 162 West 57th Street." Suddenly he took his wallet from his pocket,
+snatched a second card from it, and after looking at it for a moment,
+gave an exclamation of delighted surprise.
+
+"What is it?" Grace asked quickly.
+
+He thrust the card into her hand. Grace glanced at it, without quite
+understanding what it meant.
+
+"I don't see what you mean," she exclaimed. "The thing is clear enough.
+The card I have just given you belongs to Miss Ruth Morton."
+
+"I see that, but----"
+
+"Then surely you must see that Miss Morton's apartment also is on
+Fifty-seventh Street, and just two doors from the address of Miss Marcia
+Ford!"
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER XIII
+
+
+Duvall, upon discovering that the address of Miss Marcia Ford was on
+West 57th Street, but two doors from the building in which the Morton
+apartment was located, began to feel that he was on the right track. He
+had known, ever since his first day upon the case, that the mysterious
+messages found in Ruth Morton's bedroom had been placed there by some
+ingenious but perfectly natural means. The apparition that had so
+startled the girl upon her last night at the flat was capable, of
+course, of some reasonable explanation. When he left Mr. Baker in the
+morning his plan had been to go to Mrs. Morton's apartment and once more
+investigate all possible means of entrance, hoping that, by finding out
+how the messages were delivered, he might also be able to find out by
+whom. It was for this reason that he had asked Mrs. Morton for the key
+to the apartment.
+
+Now the question seemed in a fair way to being answered for him. The
+fact that this girl's room was located so near to the Mortons' apartment
+could not be a mere coincidence. There must be, between her room and the
+Morton flat some means of communication, although of what nature he
+could not now surmise. Fully convinced, however, that he might very soon
+find out, he hurried up to Fifty-seventh Street and walked along until
+he reached No. 162.
+
+The house was, like that which immediately adjoined the apartment
+building, an old-fashioned one, of brown stone, with a high front stoop.
+It presented an appearance which, if not exactly dilapidated, was yet in
+strong contrast to the neat appearance of its neighbors. A printed card
+in one of the lower front windows indicated that roomers were wanted.
+
+It was just the sort of place that Duvall had expected to find--just the
+sort of place in which a working girl like Marcia Ford would live.
+Located in a very excellent neighborhood, surrounded by apartment
+buildings and houses of the best type, it still could afford to rent
+rooms at the moderate figure that one of her class could pay. He went up
+the front steps and rang the bell. "Is Miss Ford in? Miss Marcia Ford?"
+he asked.
+
+The servant who came to the door, a neatly dressed German girl, shook
+her head.
+
+"No, Miss Ford is not in. She usually gets back about half past six."
+
+Duvall glanced at his watch. It was not yet three o'clock. He realized
+that he had a long wait before him.
+
+"Will you leave any message?" the girl asked.
+
+"No. It is not important. I will come back." Descending the steps he
+walked slowly in the direction of the apartment building, two doors
+away.
+
+Entering, he made his way to Mrs. Morton's apartment. The place was just
+as they had left it, two days before. The windows had all been tightly
+closed and fastened, and there were no further mysterious messages lying
+about. Once more Duvall went to Ruth Morton's room, and opening the two
+windows looked out.
+
+His investigations, however, told him no more than he had learned
+before. The three dormer windows in the home next door gazed vacantly
+down at him, their windows covered with cobwebs and dust. The
+impossibility of anyone making their way from even the nearest of them,
+to the window where he stood, was manifest. And that a long rod or pole
+could have been utilized to introduce the letters into the girl's room
+was even more impossible. He shook his head, then turned to the other
+window, that facing upon the fire escape.
+
+Here, as on the occasion of his previous examination, the smooth glossy
+surface of the freshly dried paint showed no marks, except those he had
+himself made during his former visit. And yet, as his eyes searched the
+grated surface, he saw that there was something there, something that
+had not been there before. He reached out and picked it up.
+
+It was a woman's handkerchief, a tiny square of lace-edged linen, of an
+inexpensive variety. But it was not the mere presence of the
+handkerchief that so interested him. It might readily have belonged to
+Miss Morton herself, and have been accidentally dropped from the window.
+There were two things about this particular handkerchief, however, that
+marked it as a clue of the utmost value. One was the fact that in its
+corner was embroidered an initial, the letter "F." The other was that
+two of the corners of the handkerchief were knotted together, as though
+it had been tied about someone's wrist, for what reason, he could not
+imagine.
+
+The latter feature puzzled the detective greatly. He could not form any
+hypothesis to account for it. If the Ford woman, as indicated by the
+presence of the handkerchief, marked with an "F," had been on the
+fire-escape, why were there no tell-tale marks to indicate it? And if
+she had not been there, why was her handkerchief found there, knotted in
+this peculiar way? Had it formed part of some apparatus, some device,
+made of a pole and a cord, for inserting the threatening letters through
+the window? If so, it might, of course, have become detached while the
+device was being used. Duvall remembered that he had not examined the
+fire escape on the night when the astonishing apparition had appeared
+beside Ruth Morton's bed, _because the window opening on the fire escape
+had been closed and locked_. Had the handkerchief been left there then?
+He sat for a long time in the deserted library, trying to hit upon some
+reasonable theory to explain the matter, but his efforts resulted in
+failure. Not the least confusing feature of the affair was the fact that
+the woman, Marcia Ford, _was not the woman he was seeking_. He had seen
+her at the studio that morning, and knew that she was not the one who
+had escaped from the cab the night before. Were there then two working
+together? If so, he would, through the Ford girl, in all probability be
+able to trace her confederate. He waited patiently until the waning
+afternoon light told him that it was time to begin his watch before the
+house at number 162.
+
+Across the street a residence, closed for the summer, its front entrance
+boarded up, afforded him a convenient place to wait. He sat down upon
+the steps, and pretended to be occupied with a newspaper. His eyes,
+however, sought constantly the doorway opposite.
+
+A number of persons entered the place, during the next two hours, but
+Marcia Ford was not amongst them. As the darkness began to approach, and
+lights in the streets and houses flared up, Duvall rose, crossed the
+street, and stationed himself at a nearer point, from which he might the
+more certainly identify anyone entering the house. Miss Ford, however,
+failed to appear.
+
+From the sign in the window, to the effect that roomers were wanted,
+Duvall concluded that the Ford girl did not take her meals in the house.
+His watch showed him that it was nearly seven. Doubtless she had
+arranged to dine before returning home. In a flash it came to him that
+his opportunity to make an examination of her room was now at hand.
+
+To secure entrance to the room by the usual channels was clearly out of
+the question. The people at the boarding house would, of course, not
+permit it. But could he discover the means of communication, whatever
+they were, between Miss Morton's apartment and the girl's room, he might
+be able to enter the latter unknown and unobserved. He had thought of
+attempting this during the afternoon, but realized that he could not
+hope to accomplish it, in broad daylight, without being seen by the
+occupants of the neighboring buildings, and perhaps arrested as a
+burglar or sneak thief.
+
+With a last glance down the street, he hastened back to the apartment
+building and made his way to Mrs. Morton's flat. Passing quickly through
+Ruth Morton's bedroom, he climbed out upon the fire escape and looked
+about.
+
+Below him were the rear yards of the houses fronting on the next street.
+To the right he could see the bulk of the apartment building, blocking
+his view of the avenue beyond. To the left were the rear buildings of
+the adjoining houses. It was quite dark, the sky was starless, but all
+about him gleamed the lights in the windows of the neighboring
+buildings.
+
+Neither to the right, nor to the left was there any possible way by
+which access to the point where he now stood could be gained. From
+below, it was possible, although his previous examination had showed him
+both the fact that the newly painted surface of the fire escape was
+unmarred, and that the ladder at the lower floor was drawn up some nine
+or ten feet from the ground. He felt certain that Miss Ford had not
+reached Ruth's room in that way.
+
+He glanced upward. The fire escaped stopped at the level of the floor
+above. To ascend from it to the roof was impossible.
+
+Remembering that the top apartment was vacant, Duvall re-entered the
+building and hunting up the janitor, told him that he desired to get out
+on the roof.
+
+The man remembered him, from his first visit, and the inquiries he had
+then made about the tenants of the apartment above.
+
+"I am making some special inquiries on Mrs. Morton's behalf," he
+explained. "You can go with me, if you like, to see that I do nothing I
+shouldn't."
+
+The janitor joined in his laugh.
+
+"I'm not worrying," he rejoined, "but I'll go along, just the same, to
+show you the way." He led the detective up one flight of stairs and,
+going to the end of the outer hall, unlocked and opened a small door
+beside the elevator shaft. A short spiral staircase was disclosed.
+
+Snapping on an electric light, the man ascended the steps, and, after
+fumbling for a moment with the catch, threw open a trapdoor leading to
+the roof. In a moment both he and Duvall had climbed out upon the tiled
+surface. Duvall went to the edge which overlooked the house adjoining,
+and peered down. He at once saw something that interested him.
+
+The house with the dormer windows consisted, as has been previously
+mentioned, of four stories and an attic. Its roof rose several feet
+above the level of the window of Ruth's room, which was on the fourth
+floor of the apartment building. But Duvall saw at once that this
+elevation of the adjoining house did not extend all the way back, but,
+in fact, stopped a little beyond the point where it joined the
+apartment. From here to the rear of the lot the building had no attic,
+its rear extension being but four stories high. In this position on the
+apartment-house roof, the roof of the back building was at least fifteen
+feet below him.
+
+Another thing that he noticed at once was the fact that the second
+house, No. 162, was of almost the same design as the first, that is, it
+consisted of a main building with an attic, and a rear extension,
+reaching to the same level as that of the house between. It was clear
+that if anyone living in the second house could obtain access to the
+roof of the back building, he would be able to walk across that of the
+first or adjoining house, and reach a point directly beneath where he
+stood.
+
+But, granting the possibility of this, of what use would it be? A person
+on the roof below him would in no conceivable way be able to reach
+either of the windows of Ruth Morton's room. Was it possible that an
+opening had been made through the wall of the apartment building itself?
+He thought it unlikely, but determined to investigate.
+
+"I must get down on that roof below," he informed his companion. The
+janitor grinned.
+
+"How are you going to do it?" he asked.
+
+"Haven't you a ladder--a rope?"
+
+The man thought a moment.
+
+"I've got a short ladder in the cellar, only about eight feet long, I
+guess. I'm afraid it would not do."
+
+"Yes it would," replied Duvall, pointing to the roof of the attic
+portion of the house below. "I'll get down to the roof of the main part
+of the house first, and from there to the roof of the back building. An
+eight-foot ladder will be long enough for that. Bring it up, will you?"
+
+The man hesitated.
+
+"I don't just like this idea of going on other people's roofs," he said.
+
+"You don't need to go. I've got to. I'm a detective, and I'm working for
+Mrs. Morton on a most important case." As he spoke, he took a bill from
+his pocket and pressed it into the man's hand.
+
+The janitor responded at once.
+
+"I'll fetch it up, sir," he said. "Wait for me here."
+
+Duvall occupied the few moments consumed by the janitor's absence in
+examining, by means of his pocket electric torch, the surface of the
+roof on which he stood. The smooth flat terra cotta tiles showed no
+distinguishing marks. Here and there spots of paint, marred by
+footprints, indicated where the painters at work on the building had set
+their buckets, no doubt while painting the wooden portions of the
+trapdoor, and the metal chimney-pots on the roof.
+
+The man returned in a few moments with the ladder, and Duvall, lowering
+it to the level of the main portion of the adjoining house, saw that it
+was of sufficient length to permit his descent. In a moment he had
+slipped off his shoes, and was cautiously descending the ladder.
+
+Once on the surface of the main roof of the house, he had intended to
+take down the ladder and, by means of it, descend the remaining six or
+seven feet to the roof of the back building, but he found that means for
+this descent already existed. A rough but permanent wooden ladder led
+from the higher level to the lower. Duvall judged that it had been
+placed there to provide easy communication between the upper roof and
+the lower. Leaving the ladder where it stood, he made his way down to
+the roof of the back building. It was covered with tin, and he walked
+softly in his stockinged feet to avoid being overheard.
+
+His first act was to go to the wall of the apartment house which faced
+him, and make a thorough examination of it by the light of his electric
+torch. He judged that in the position in which he now stood he was about
+on a level with the floor of Ruth's room. The brick wall of the
+apartment building facing him was blank, that is, it contained no
+windows. After a minute examination, Duvall was forced to the conclusion
+that no entrance to the girl's bedroom had been made through it. The
+bricks were solid, immovable, the cemented joints firm and unbroken. A
+moment later he turned to the left.
+
+Here the rising wall of the attic story of the house faced him, reaching
+to a point above his head. Two dusty and long unopened dormer windows,
+similar to those facing on the court, confronted him. He remembered that
+the servant of the house next door had informed him, earlier in the
+week, that the attic was, and long had been, unoccupied.
+
+Whether the attic was tenanted or not, however, had no bearing on the
+problem which confronted him. The windows might serve as a means whereby
+anyone could reach the roof of the back building from the house proper,
+but they did not suggest any means whereby anyone might reach the
+windows of Ruth's bedroom. And by ascending to the point on the attic
+roof where his ladder stood, the problem was no nearer a solution, for a
+person standing there was on the edge of the court between the
+buildings, seven feet or more above the girl's bedroom window, and as
+many away from it. He turned away, and approaching the rear edge of the
+back building, looked over.
+
+To his left, some eight feet away, was the fire escape before the rear
+window of the girl's bedroom. Standing on that sharp edge, he realized
+that in no way could he reach the railing of the fire escape, except by
+jumping, a feat that an expert gymnast might have hesitated to attempt,
+at that height above the ground. And could it be done successfully, what
+about the crash, the noise which must inevitably result from such a
+performance? What about the damage to the paint upon the fire escape's
+iron surface? And yet it would seem that a young girl had accomplished
+this feat, without noise, without making the least mark to register her
+passage. He thought of the tell-tale handkerchief, which he had found on
+the fire escape earlier in the evening, then turned back with a feeling
+of annoyance. The thing was, he realized, an impossibility.
+
+A sudden sense of the passage of time made him hurry to the roof of the
+rear building of the house at No. 162. Like its neighbor, it was built
+with an attic story, and in the rear were two dormer windows opening in
+the same way upon the lower roof. Could these windows, by any chance, be
+those of the room of Marcia Ford? It seemed highly probable, since, if
+she had operated from the roof, they could afford an easy way to reach
+it. Very cautiously he crept up to the nearer of the two windows and
+looked in.
+
+The room before him was in total darkness, and the very faint radiance
+from without was not sufficient to enable him to distinguish anything
+within it. The window, however, he saw to his delight was open, and the
+opening, although small, was quite large enough to enable him to crawl
+in. Holding his electric torch in one hand, he crept into the room.
+
+The beam of light from his torch, although powerful, was, of course,
+very concentrated. He swept it about the room, to make sure that it was
+unoccupied. It was a small room, long and narrow, with the single dormer
+window, by which he had just entered, at one end, and a similar one at
+the side, in the slanting mansard roof. It contained a small bed, a
+chiffonier and dresser, a table, some chairs and a trunk. It was a
+woman's room; one glance at the dresser told him that, and a
+handkerchief lying crumpled on the latter's top proved to be identical
+with the one he had found on the fire escape, both in its general
+character, and in the initial "F" in one of its borders. Beyond any
+doubt, he was now in Marcia Ford's room.
+
+Had he been inclined to doubt it, two photographs upon the wall would
+have convinced him. One was a picture of the Ford girl herself. The
+other was a portrait of the woman of the cab, the one that Duvall fully
+believed to be the author of the attacks upon Ruth Morton.
+
+He examined the various articles about the room with the utmost care,
+but nothing of any interest rewarded his search. It had been his hope
+that he might find something of definite value--the typewriter, perhaps,
+upon which the threatening letters had been written, the black sealing
+wax, used in making the death's-head seals, the paper employed by the
+writer. None of these things was in evidence; there was no typewriter,
+the table contained a small bottle of ink, a couple of pens, and some
+cheap envelopes and a writing tablet of linen paper quite different from
+that upon which the warning letters had been written. There was nothing,
+absolutely nothing, in the place to connect its occupant with the
+sending of the letters, except the room's location, in such close
+proximity to that of Ruth Morton, and the photograph of the woman of the
+cab, hanging upon the wall.
+
+Duvall, greatly disappointed, was about to take his departure, when he
+observed at the far end of the room a door. Whether it led to another
+room, or to a bathroom, or merely to a closet, he did not, of course,
+know. There was danger, he fully realized, that Marcia Ford might return
+at any moment. There was equal danger that, upon opening the door, he
+might find himself in another room, possibly an occupied one. He thought
+at one time that he heard sounds on the far side of the door, but when
+he paused and stood listening he could distinguish nothing, and
+concluded that he had been mistaken. Shutting off the light of his
+pocket torch for the moment, in order that, should the entrance lead to
+another room, its rays might not betray his presence, Duvall grabbed the
+door knob, and, turning it softly, opened the door.
+
+For a moment he had a glimpse of a black cavern, and then, with
+incredible swiftness, something struck him a heavy blow in the face.
+What it was he was too much surprised and stunned to realize. His
+electric lamp fell from his hand, and clattered to the floor.
+
+Realizing his helplessness in the almost total darkness, he bent down,
+groping about in an unsuccessful effort to recover the searchlight. And
+then, with a loud cry, a heavy body projected itself upon him, grasping
+wildly at his hair. An arm, clothed in some silken material, encircled
+his throat. He felt himself choking. And at the same moment a strange
+and irrational terror seized him. He seemed in the grasp of something
+uncanny, something inhuman, in spite of its very human cries. With a
+shudder he sprang to his feet, unable to locate the missing electric
+torch, and shaking the shrieking figure from him, plunged toward the
+window by which he had entered. It was not alone the surprise, the
+nameless terror of the thing, that sent Duvall headlong from the room.
+He fully realized that the noise of the encounter, the shrieks of his
+assailant, would quickly bring the other inmates of the house to the
+room. He had no wish to be discovered there--his entrance had been too
+irregular, too illegal, for that. With extraordinary rapidity he flung
+himself through the window and without waiting to observe the results of
+his intrusion, sped swiftly across the roofs of the two buildings, up
+the steps to the attic roof, and from there, by means of the ladder, to
+the roof of the apartment building. The janitor sat where he had left
+him, smoking a pipe. Duvall looked back. Lights were visible in the room
+he had just left. He saw a figure, one that closely resembled Marcia
+Ford, cross the lighted area of the window. There was a second figure
+with her--smaller, shorter, he thought. Who--what was it that had
+attacked him? He stood in a daze, unable to grasp the meaning of the
+experience through which he had just passed.
+
+The janitor took his pipe from his mouth and rose.
+
+"Find what you were looking for?" he asked with a grin. Duvall shook his
+head.
+
+"No," he said. "Not exactly. But I'm on the track of it."
+
+"Want the ladder any more?"
+
+"No, not to-night." He assisted the man to draw it up to the roof.
+
+A few moments later he had reached the sidewalk. He glanced at his
+watch. It was just eight o'clock. As he walked toward the entrance of
+the house at No. 162, the front door opened, and a woman came out.
+
+Duvall quickened his pace, but the woman was also apparently in a great
+hurry. She ran swiftly across the sidewalk, and sprang into a cab which
+stood beside the curb. Duvall was able to get but a fleeting glance at
+her, but that glance was enough to convince him that she was the
+mysterious prisoner who had so neatly given him the slip while in the
+cab the night before. He sprang forward with a cry, but before he had
+come within ten feet of the cab, the vehicle dashed off and proceeded at
+a rapid rate up the street.
+
+A second cab came along at almost the same moment. Duvall hailed it, but
+the driver shook his head, indicating that he had a fare. In a moment
+the second cab had passed, apparently in hot pursuit of the first. There
+were no other cabs in sight. With a growl of anger and annoyance Duvall
+turned back to the door of No. 162.
+
+Should he ring the bell and ask for Miss Ford? he wondered. Of what use
+would it be, to request an interview? Yet there seemed to be nothing
+else that he could do. Miss Ford had not left the house, although the
+other woman, apparently her confederate, had done so. He stood in the
+shadow of the apartment building, trying to decide what move he should
+make next.
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER XIV
+
+
+Grace Duvall, on being left at the hotel by her husband, spent a long
+and very tiresome afternoon. She had expected Richard back long before,
+with news, perhaps, of a successful investigation of the woman, Marcia
+Ford, whose address was so near that of the Mortons. But when six
+o'clock came, and went, with no news of her husband, Grace came to the
+conclusion that he had probably struck a long trail, and being a
+normally healthy person, with an excellent appetite, she went to the
+dining room and ordered dinner, leaving word at the desk where she would
+be, in case Richard returned.
+
+Her lonely meal was over by seven, and, not knowing what to do next,
+Grace went out on the sidewalk, with the intention of looking for her
+friend of the evening before, the taxicab driver, Leary. It was possible
+that the man might have something more to report. As she reached the
+door, she saw him descend from his cab. He came forward at once, tipping
+his cap.
+
+"Taxi, ma'am," he asked.
+
+"No, I don't think so, Leary. Anything new?"
+
+"Not a thing, ma'am. Haven't seen that party since. Can't I take you for
+a drive, ma'am?"
+
+Grace was on the point of refusing, when a sudden idea came to her. She
+hastily opened her pocketbook, tore out the pieces of the visiting card
+that Duvall had left upon the table, and fitted them together.
+
+"Drive me to 162 W. 57th Street," she directed, and stepped into the
+cab.
+
+Leary touched his cap, and in a few moments they were speeding up the
+Avenue.
+
+"Don't go right up to the address," Grace told him through the speaking
+tube. "Stop a little below, but in a place where I can see the door."
+
+The man nodded, and a little later they turned into 57th Street and drew
+up alongside the curb.
+
+"Do you think you would recognize the woman who gave you the card, last
+night?" Grace asked.
+
+"Yes, ma'am. I think I should, ma'am."
+
+"Very well. Watch the doorway of number 162. If she goes in let me know.
+If she comes out, follow her. I shall probably recognize her myself, if
+she is the woman I think. I saw her for a few moments at the Grand
+Theater last night. But she may not be the same one. We'll know that
+later."
+
+Leary nodded, and they began a long wait. After what seemed to Grace an
+interminable time, they saw a taxicab come rapidly down the street,
+execute a turn, and draw up before the door of number 162.
+
+Grace, as soon as she realized the cab's destination, sprang to the
+sidewalk and strolled carelessly along in the direction of the house.
+The cab came to a standstill just before she reached it, and two women
+got out. One of them Grace had never seen before. The other she
+recognized at once. It was the woman who had fainted in the theater the
+previous night.
+
+Neither of the women paid any attention to her, but directing the cabman
+to wait, passed quickly into the house.
+
+Grace went back to her cab and got in.
+
+"The woman I am looking for has just driven up in that cab," she said.
+"She has gone into the house. The cab is to wait. When she comes out
+again, follow her." Leary nodded, and the two of them settled down for
+what they supposed would be a long wait. To their surprise, scarcely ten
+minutes had passed before the door of No. 162 was suddenly opened, and
+the woman whom Grace had recognized dashed down the steps and sprang
+into the waiting cab. At almost the same moment Grace saw her husband
+start forward from the direction of the apartment building, as though in
+pursuit of her.
+
+There was no time, however, to wait for him. The cab ahead had already
+started off, and Leary, true to his instructions, was speeding after it.
+In a moment both vehicles had turned into Seventh Avenue and were
+driving rapidly uptown.
+
+As minute after minute sped by, Grace began to realize that the chase
+might prove a long one. They had already crossed to Central Park West,
+and were now speeding northward again in the neighborhood of 72nd
+Street. Then, to Grace's surprise, the cab ahead swerved into a side
+street, and drew up before the entrance of the hotel at which Ruth
+Morton and her mother were stopping. The cab had no sooner stopped than
+the woman sprang out and entered the lobby.
+
+Grace followed her without a moment's hesitation, ordering Leary to
+wait. The woman hurried up to the desk and, taking a blank card from it,
+scribbled a few words upon it in pencil, and handed it to the clerk.
+Grace was unable to hear what she said to him, but the man nodded, and
+handed the card to a bellboy. The woman sat down in a nearby chair.
+
+Grace, having nothing else to do, and being somewhat afraid that the
+woman might recognize her, crossed at once to the opposite side of the
+lobby and, going to the news stand, spent some time in selecting and
+purchasing a magazine. She stood with her back to the woman, screened by
+a large palm, but at the same time managed to keep a fairly close watch
+upon her.
+
+It was several minutes before anything happened. Then an elderly lady
+emerged from one of the elevators, and under the guidance of a bellboy
+approached the woman Grace had been following. Grace did not remember
+having ever seen the older woman before, but she had a distinct
+impression that it might be Mrs. Morton. She strolled over to the desk,
+and addressed the clerk in a low voice.
+
+"Is that Mrs. Morton--the elderly lady in black?" she asked. The clerk
+stared at her, but his reserve melted before her charming smile.
+
+"No, Miss," he said. "That is Mrs. Bradley."
+
+"Thank you." Grace gave a sigh of relief, and turned away.
+
+Looking once more toward the two women, she saw that the older one was
+addressing her companion with something of reserve, as though she had
+never met her before. The younger woman spoke quickly, smilingly, for a
+few moments, shook hands with her companion, and turned away. Grace saw
+that she was about to leave, and at once followed her, although at a
+little distance, so as not to excite her suspicions. When she reached
+the sidewalk the other woman had already entered her cab, and seemed
+about to drive off.
+
+The cab, however, merely moved to a position a little further down the
+street, and by the time Grace had entered her own vehicle the other had
+again become stationary.
+
+This maneuver struck Grace as extremely peculiar. She told Leary to
+remain where he was, and with some misgivings, awaited the woman's next
+move.
+
+After a time she saw Mrs. Bradley, who had gone toward the elevators as
+Grace left the lobby, come out, signal for a taxicab, and drive quickly
+off. Leary was obliged to draw up with his machine, in order to leave a
+clear space before the door.
+
+A few seconds later Grace saw the woman she had been following spring
+from her cab, come rapidly along the sidewalk, and once more enter the
+lobby. Grace again followed her, just in time to see that instead of
+applying at the desk, as before, she went directly to one of the
+elevators, entered, and was whisked out of sight.
+
+Grace's heart almost stood still with fear. She had not appreciated the
+meaning of the woman's actions before. Now they were only too clear. She
+had evidently gotten Mrs. Morton, whom Grace suddenly remembered had
+been registered under an assumed name, out of the way on some pretext or
+other, and had gone to Ruth's room, with the intention, no doubt, of
+carrying out her previous threats. The situation was frightful. It would
+admit of no delay. Grace dashed to the desk and began to speak rapidly,
+in a frightened voice, to the clerk.
+
+"That woman"--she exclaimed--"the one who just went up in the
+elevator--she is going to Miss Ruth Morton's room--you must stop
+her--there is no telling what she may not do--send up, quick--quick!
+Miss Morton is in the greatest danger."
+
+The clerk looked at her, his mouth half open with surprise.
+
+"I--what do you mean, Miss? I don't understand you. We have no Miss
+Morton here." He regarded Grace apprehensively, and out of the corner of
+his eye looked toward the cashier, as though he contemplated calling on
+him for assistance in case this apparently mad woman became violent.
+
+Grace gave a groan of despair.
+
+"The daughter of the elderly lady, about whom I asked you before. Her
+name is Morton. Her daughter Ruth is staying here under an assumed
+name--Bradley, you say it is. Oh--please be quick. I know what I am
+talking about. That woman who came here a while ago is a dangerous
+character. She gave Mrs. Morton some message or other to get her out of
+the way, and as soon as she had gone came back into the hotel and went
+upstairs in the elevator. Didn't you see her?"
+
+"Yes, Miss, I saw her. She was a friend of Mrs. Bradley's, she said, and
+I supposed Mrs. Bradley had told her to go upstairs."
+
+"I tell you, that woman who just went upstairs means harm--terrible
+harm, to Miss Bradley--Miss Morton. Oh--don't stand there wasting time.
+Come up with me at once, and you will see that I am right----"
+
+"But--who are you, Miss? What have you to do with the matter?"
+
+"What difference does that make, if what I say is true? If you must
+know, I am a detective employed by Mrs. Morton----"
+
+"Employed by Mrs. Morton! And yet you didn't know her when you saw her!
+My dear woman, your story does not hang together----"
+
+"It is my husband, Mr. Duvall, who is employed by her. He was registered
+here under the name of Bradley, too. I am trying to help him."
+
+"Oh!" The clerk seemed somewhat more inclined to accord her serious
+attention. "Very well. I will go to the room with you, and see if
+everything is all right."
+
+"And hurry, please--hurry." Grace started toward the elevators.
+
+Then a sudden thought came to her. Suppose the woman was to make her
+escape, coming down in one of the elevators, while she and the clerk
+were going up in another. There had been ample time, she knew, for her
+to have murdered Ruth, were that her plan, and have already left the
+room.
+
+"Wait just a moment," she cried to the clerk, who had said a few words
+to one of his assistants and was leaving the desk to join her. "I must
+speak to my cabman, but I'll be back in a moment." She dashed through
+the entrance doors and hurried to the point where Leary sat at his
+steering wheel.
+
+"Wait here," she whispered to him, "until I come back, unless the woman
+we have been following comes out. If she does come out, and drive away,
+follow her, and find out where she goes. Then telephone me here. I will
+leave my name at the desk, and wait until I hear from you."
+
+Leary nodded, and Grace quickly re-entered the lobby and joined the
+waiting clerk.
+
+"Instruct your telephone operators," she said to him, "to let me know,
+in case anyone calls up Mrs. Duvall."
+
+The clerk gave the necessary instructions, and the two then entered one
+of the elevators and quickly made their way to the seventh floor, upon
+which Mrs. Morton's apartment was located.
+
+There was no one in the corridor when they left the elevator, and the
+clerk, who knew the location of the suite, hastened to it at once.
+
+They reached the door. Grace was conscious of a feeling of apprehension,
+a sense of impending disaster. Her heart pounded violently as she waited
+for the answer to the clerk's knocks. She waited in vain. Only silence,
+grim, terrible, rewarded his efforts.
+
+"Something _has_ happened," Grace whispered, as the clerk again rapped
+upon the door, this time more loudly than before.
+
+Again there was no reply, no evidence of the presence of anyone in the
+girl's rooms.
+
+"Open the door!" Grace cried. "Something terrible must have occurred!"
+
+The clerk took the pass key with which he had provided himself, and
+inserted it in the lock. A moment later the door swung open, and the two
+of them entered the room.
+
+It was in total darkness. Grace clutched at her heart, fearing what she
+believed the switching on of the lights would reveal. The clerk, without
+loss of time, pressed the push button near the door. The room was at
+once flooded with light.
+
+Grace glanced about, then gave a momentary sigh of relief. The room, the
+small parlor of the suite, was quite vacant. At its further end the door
+to Ruth Morton's bedroom stood ajar.
+
+With the clerk beside her, Grace hurriedly crossed the room. With a
+prayer in her heart she pushed open the bedroom door. Her companion at
+the same moment felt along the door-jamb for the electric switch. In an
+instant the bedroom lights were turned on.
+
+Then Grace saw that her fears had been fully justified. On the floor,
+halfway between the door and the bed, lay Ruth Morton, apparently
+lifeless. Her face was the color of chalk, her eyes were closed. With a
+cry, Grace fell on her knees beside the unconscious girl and with
+trembling fingers felt her heart. The clerk, a weak-faced young man,
+stood gazing at the scene before him in amazed horror.
+
+"She isn't dead!" Grace exclaimed, turning an excited face to him. "Her
+heart is still beating. Send for a doctor, quick!" Then, taking the
+unconscious girl in her arms, she lifted her to the bed.
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER XV
+
+
+Richard Duvall, realizing that the woman he sought had once more eluded
+him, was for the moment unable to decide what to do next. He was
+oppressed by a sense of failure. Apparently this enemy of Ruth Morton's
+was far more resourceful than he had supposed. She had gotten clear
+away, and there appeared no means by which he could trace her. That the
+second cab, the one he had hailed, contained Grace, did not of course
+occur to him. The trail appeared to be hopelessly lost.
+
+Still, his investigations in Miss Ford's room had not been entirely
+fruitless, although they had also added a startlingly new element to the
+mystery of the case. Who was the person who had attacked him from the
+closet? Was it the woman who had just left the house? He did not think
+so. Nor was it Miss Ford herself. There had been something uncanny about
+the whole experience; he was by no means certain that his assailant had
+been a human being at all. And yet, its cries--its fingers, tearing at
+his throat. He was unable to account for the experience at all, and
+determined, as soon as possible, to repeat his visit, and sift the
+matter to the bottom.
+
+He remembered that he had seen two persons in the Ford girl's room,
+after his hasty retreat. Two women, he thought, outlined against the
+lighted square of the window. One of these had already left the house.
+The other, Miss Ford herself, was still there. He determined to
+interview her at once.
+
+Of course, he told himself, to do so would put her on her guard, but his
+visit to her room had already done that, and doubtless accounted for her
+companion's hasty flight. And there was something to be gained, by
+letting her realize that she was under suspicion. She would at once try
+to communicate with, to warn, her confederate, and it was in just such
+ways as this, Duvall's experience told him, that criminals so often
+betrayed themselves. If, by frightening Miss Ford, he could cause her to
+flee--to join her companion--the tracing of the latter would become
+comparatively simple. He went up to the door of No. 162 and rang the
+bell.
+
+The same woman answered his summons as had answered before. She seemed
+somewhat uneasy--disturbed.
+
+"I want to see Miss Marcia Ford," Duvall told her.
+
+"Very well, sir. Come in. I will tell Miss Ford. What name, please?"
+
+"Say that Mr. Bradley is calling."
+
+The girl ushered him into a dark parlor, lighted by a single lowered gas
+jet, and suggestive of the gloom of ages, in its walnut furniture, its
+dismal pictures and ornaments. He took a seat, and waited for the
+appearance of Miss Ford.
+
+She arrived in a few moments, a slender, ordinary-looking girl, in white
+shirtwaist and black skirt.
+
+"You are Mr. Bradley?" she asked, regarding the detective with a look of
+inquiry.
+
+"Yes. I came to see you about a matter of importance."
+
+"What is it?"
+
+"Who was the woman who just left here--the woman who had just come in
+with you?" Miss Ford favored the detective with a glassy stare.
+
+"I do not understand you," she exclaimed. "I came home alone. What is
+the purpose of these questions?"
+
+Duvall felt that he had a shrewd opponent to deal with.
+
+"Are you acquainted with Miss Ruth Morton?" he asked.
+
+"Why--certainly--that is, I know her by reputation, She works for the
+same company as I do. Why do you ask?"
+
+"Miss Morton has recently been the subject of a shameful persecution.
+The woman who just left this house is concerned in it. Who is she?"
+
+"I do not know what you are talking about," the girl exclaimed, angrily.
+"I know nothing about any woman. You must pardon me, Mr. Bradley, if I
+decline to be questioned in this way any further." She moved toward the
+door.
+
+"Then you wish me to understand that the woman who just left this house
+did not come here with you?"
+
+"Understand anything you please. I decline to be questioned any
+further." With a look of anger she left the room.
+
+Duvall made his way back to the sidewalk, thoroughly satisfied with the
+results of his visit. The Ford woman, in the first place, had lied. The
+other woman had been with her, beyond a doubt. Duvall thought of her
+picture on the wall of Miss Ford's room. The latter's reason for lying
+was equally clear. She and the woman with her were guilty.
+
+In the second place, Miss Ford now realized fully that she was under
+direct suspicion. If, this being the case, she failed to take some step
+that would be fatal to both her confederate and herself, Duvall felt
+that he would be very much surprised. He made up his mind to keep close
+watch upon the house.
+
+Suddenly it occurred to him that Grace might be of immense service to
+him at this juncture. She could follow the Ford girl, unknown,
+unrecognized, while he himself could not. He decided to call her up at
+once, and ask her to join him.
+
+At the corner, the lights of a saloon glowed brilliantly. With a final
+glance at the dark doorway of No. 162, he walked quickly down the street
+He felt that, if he hurried, he need not be away from his post more than
+a few moments.
+
+The call to his hotel developed the fact that Grace was not in. There
+was a lady asking for him, however, the clerk said, an elderly woman,
+who gave her name as Mrs. Morton. She had just come in, and seemed
+greatly agitated at not having found him.
+
+The name, Mrs. Morton, filled Duvall with sudden apprehension.
+
+"I'll speak to her, please," he said. A moment later, he recognized the
+voice of Mrs. Morton over the 'phone.
+
+"Is this Mr. Duvall?"
+
+"Yes."
+
+"This is Mrs. Morton. Your wife came to me, a little while ago, and said
+that you wanted to see me at your hotel at once. She explained that it
+was of the utmost importance. Why are you not here?"
+
+"I sent no such message."
+
+"No such message! Then who did?"
+
+"I do not know. You left your daughter alone?"
+
+"Yes."
+
+"Then, Mrs. Morton, I am afraid you have been imposed upon. Wait where
+you are. I will join you at once."
+
+"Hurry, then, Mr. Duvall. If what you say is true, we do not know what
+may have happened."
+
+"I will be with you in fifteen minutes."
+
+The astonishing news given to him by Mrs. Morton filled Duvall with
+alarm. Clearly the supposed message from him had been part of a scheme
+to get her away from the hotel, to leave Ruth there alone. He scarcely
+dared think of the consequences. The following of Miss Ford now became a
+matter of secondary importance. Fearing the worst, he signaled to a
+passing taxicab, and drove as rapidly as possible to his hotel.
+
+Mrs. Morton awaited him in the lobby. She was in a state of the utmost
+excitement.
+
+"We must go back to the hotel at once," she cried. "Ruth is there all
+alone."
+
+"Where is her maid, Nora?"
+
+"I let her go out, this evening."
+
+"Then you should not have left the hotel."
+
+"I would not have done so, but for this imperative message from you."
+
+"What was the message?"
+
+"Your wife, or at least a woman claiming to be your wife, came to see me
+a little after eight o'clock. She said you had arrested the woman who
+has been sending these threats to my daughter, and that you needed me at
+once, to make a charge against her at the police station. I naturally
+came here immediately."
+
+"The woman who told you this--she couldn't have been my wife. Describe
+her."
+
+"She was slight, small, neatly but not expensively dressed, with light
+eyes and hair."
+
+"That was not Mrs. Duvall, but it answers very well the description of
+the woman we are seeking. What did she do, when you left the hotel?"
+
+"I thought she also left."
+
+"You are not sure of this?"
+
+"No."
+
+"Then we have no time to lose. Come." He escorted Mrs. Morton to a
+taxicab, and instructed the chauffeur to drive to her hotel at top
+speed.
+
+Mrs. Morton had very little to say on the way uptown. She was naturally
+in a state of greatest excitement. Duvall, too, was greatly concerned.
+He knew that the false message had not been given by Grace. What purpose
+had the woman in mind, in getting rid of Mrs. Morton? The realization of
+what might have happened to Ruth alarmed him beyond measure.
+
+The drive to the hotel occupied but a few moments, but to Duvall it
+seemed hours. When they at last drew up before the hotel door, he sprang
+to the sidewalk, ordered the chauffeur to wait, and with Mrs. Morton at
+his side, hurried into the lobby.
+
+"Give me my key," Mrs. Morton cried, pausing for a moment at the desk.
+Then, with Duvall at her heels, she rushed to the elevator.
+
+As soon as they arrived at the door of the suite, it was apparent that
+something was wrong. The door stood open. The clerk, with one of the
+maids, occupied the little parlor. Through the open door of the bedroom
+Duvall caught a glimpse of Ruth, lying in bed, the figure of a
+heavily-set, bearded man bending over her.
+
+"Mrs. Bradley!" the clerk exclaimed, as soon as he caught sight of Mrs.
+Morton. "I'm so glad you have come. Your daughter has had an--an
+accident!"
+
+Mrs. Morton paid scant attention to his words. She, too, had seen
+through the doorway the figure of her daughter lying in the bed. With a
+cry, she passed the clerk unnoticing, and went toward the bedroom door.
+
+"Ruth!" she exclaimed, in an agonized voice, then rushed into the room
+beyond.
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER XVI
+
+
+When Grace Duvall, accompanied by the hotel clerk, found Ruth Morton
+lying on the floor in the parlor of her suite, her first act had been to
+call for a doctor.
+
+Her second was to gather the unconscious girl in her arms, and carry her
+into the adjoining bedroom.
+
+That Ruth was alive, filled Grace with joy. She had feared something far
+worse might have befallen the girl. Yet it was clear that some terrible
+shock had operated to reduce her to the condition in which she had been
+found. What this shock was, Grace could only surmise.
+
+She placed the girl upon the bed, and proceeded to remove her clothing.
+By the time she had gotten her beneath the sheets, the clerk came in,
+accompanied by the hotel physician.
+
+The latter, after a hasty examination, turned to Grace with a grave
+look. "The young woman has experienced a terrible shock of some sort,"
+he said. "She is very weak, and her heart action is bad." He took some
+tablets from a bottle in his medicine case, and called for a glass of
+water. "Severe nerve-shock of this sort is a serious matter," he
+exclaimed. "Sometimes it is fatal, at others the mind may be permanently
+affected. The young lady must be kept absolutely quiet, of course. We
+will hope for the best. Give her a tablespoonful of this solution every
+hour. Force her to take it, even if she does not regain consciousness. I
+will look in again in an hour or two. But be sure that she is kept
+absolutely quiet."
+
+Grace sat beside the unconscious girl for a long time in silence. Once
+she went into the next room and called up her hotel, thinking that
+Richard might have returned, but he had not. She felt that she could
+only wait where she was, until some word came from Leary.
+
+The clerk, as soon as Ruth was attended to, had hastened down to the
+lobby, only to learn that the woman who had gone to Miss Bradley's room
+had not been seen.
+
+It must have been almost an hour before Grace was informed by one of the
+bellboys that someone wished to speak to her on the telephone. She did
+not take the message in Ruth's room, the management having given
+instructions that no calls were to be transmitted there for fear of
+arousing the unconscious girl. She went quickly downstairs in the
+elevator, and repaired to a booth in the lobby. One of the maids had
+been left to watch over Ruth.
+
+The message was from Leary, as Grace had anticipated.
+
+"Is this you, Mrs. Duvall?" the cabman asked.
+
+"Yes. What have you discovered?"
+
+"The lady got into her cab a little while after you left me, and drove
+away. I followed, as you told me to do. She drove to an apartment on
+96th Street, left her taxicab, and entered. The cab drove away. I'm
+waiting across the street, in a drug store. The apartment is on the
+corner, 96th Street and Columbus Avenue. Shall I stay here?"
+
+"Yes. Wait until I come." Grace left the booth, and hunting up the
+clerk, told him that she was obliged to go out at once.
+
+"Mrs. Morton should be back very soon," she said. "One of the maids is
+sitting with Miss Ruth. Hadn't you better stay with her, as well?"
+
+The clerk nodded, then saw the doctor coming through the lobby.
+
+"Here's Dr. Benson," he said. "I'll send him up. The young lady will be
+quite safe, until her mother comes."
+
+Grace bowed to the doctor, then hurried out of the hotel, and jumping
+into a taxi, ordered the driver to take her to Columbus Avenue and 96th
+Street. She felt overjoyed, to know that the woman Duvall had been
+seeking had at last been run to earth. She should, Grace determined, not
+escape a second time.
+
+At 96th Street, she found Leary, impatiently waiting for her in the
+doorway of the corner drug store from which he had telephoned. He saw
+her as soon as she left the cab and, tipping his cap, came forward and
+joined her.
+
+"She's in there yet, Miss," he whispered, jerking his thumb toward the
+building on the opposite corner.
+
+Grace glanced in the direction indicated. A somewhat dingy-looking
+apartment house stood upon the corner; its lower floor occupied by a
+florist's shop. The entrance was on 96th Street. Leaving Leary on the
+opposite corner, she crossed the street and entered the vestibule of the
+building.
+
+The mail boxes on either side contained five names each, indicating that
+there were ten apartments in the building. Grace looked over the
+addresses in them carefully, but none of them meant anything to her.
+None was at all familiar. The name on the torn card had been Ford, but
+there was no such name among those before her. How was she to tell to
+which apartment the woman had gone? The situation presented an
+interesting problem.
+
+Making a list of the names upon a visiting card, Grace determined to try
+them each in turn. She had observed that the building contained no
+elevator. She rang one of the bells, and almost at once the clicking of
+the catch told her that the front door was unlocked. She turned the knob
+and entered.
+
+The occupants of the two ground floor apartments were named Weinberg and
+Scully, respectively. Grace tried both doors in succession, asking for
+Mrs. Weinberg at the one, and for Mrs. Scully at the other. In each case
+the woman who appeared bore no resemblance to the one she sought, and
+she was obliged to pretend that she had made a mistake. The doors were
+at once closed in her face.
+
+It was not until she reached the fourth floor that success rewarded her
+efforts. The left-hand apartment on this floor had as its tenant a Miss
+Norman. To Grace's delight, she had scarcely rung the bell, when the
+woman she had been following appeared, wearing a flowered kimono.
+
+She looked at Grace keenly, suspiciously, but with no sign of
+recognition. Whether she did not know her, or merely pretended not to do
+so, Grace was unable to say. After all, it made little difference.
+Having now located the woman, it was only necessary to get away, upon
+some pretense or other, and telephone to Richard. She felt highly
+elated.
+
+"What do you want?" the woman asked, quickly.
+
+"Are you Miss Norman?"
+
+"I am."
+
+"Miss Norman, I have come to try to interest you in the work we are
+doing on behalf of the suffering people of Poland. The war, as you
+know----" Grace reeled off this appeal, feeling quite certain that the
+woman would reject it at once, and thus leave her free to go. But as it
+turned out, Miss Norman did nothing of the sort.
+
+"I am always interested in worthy charities," she remarked, with a
+peculiar smile. "Won't you come in?" She held wide the door.
+
+Grace found herself in a quandary. Was this a plot to get her inside the
+apartment, or was the woman in earnest? It seemed unlikely, and yet,
+Grace feared the danger, now that she had gone so far, of arousing the
+other's suspicions by a refusal.
+
+"I--I will come in for a moment," she said, and an instant later found
+herself in a small, rather poorly furnished living room. The woman
+closed the door, and followed her. Grace braced herself for a possible
+attack, but none came.
+
+"Sit down," her hostess said, indicating a chair.
+
+"No. It is too late for that. If you care to subscribe anything----"
+
+"But you must tell me more about your work."
+
+"It is very simple. The money is expended by the Polish Relief
+Committee, to relieve the starving and destitute sufferers in the war
+zone."
+
+"I see. It seems a worthy charity. I will think the matter over. Suppose
+you call again."
+
+Grace began to breathe more freely.
+
+"I will do so, of course," she said, moving toward the door.
+
+The woman preceded her.
+
+"Let me open it," she said. "The catch has a habit of sticking." She
+fumbled with the lock.
+
+Grace was so completely deceived by the woman's actions that she
+momentarily relaxed her guard. As her companion drew the door open,
+Grace bade her good night and started to go. The instant her back was
+turned, she felt a slender but muscular arm slide about her neck, and
+she was instantly dragged backward, unable, on account of the pressure
+upon her throat, to utter a sound.
+
+Her attempt at a cry for help was smothered before it became audible.
+She saw, as in a dream, the woman before her drive the door to with her
+shoulder. Then she was whirled backward and thrown violently upon a low
+couch.
+
+She grasped the arm of her assailant and struggled with all her might,
+but to no purpose. The woman bent over her, her hands at her throat.
+Grace's brain reeled. Everything seemed black before her eyes. She
+gasped, trying in vain to breathe, but the fingers upon her throat were
+momentarily tightening. Then, almost before she realized it, the objects
+in the room swam vaguely before her eyes, and she lost consciousness.
+
+
+
+
+PART IV
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER XVII
+
+
+Duvall, on his arrival with Mrs. Morton at her apartment, lost no time
+in finding out from the clerk just what had happened. The story, pieced
+together, confirmed his worst suspicions.
+
+The woman, after escaping from the house at 162 West 57th Street, had
+gone at once to Ruth's hotel, followed by Grace. Here she had
+interviewed Mrs. Morton, represented herself as Grace Duvall, and
+induced Mrs. Morton to leave the hotel by giving her a fictitious
+message purporting to be from himself.
+
+Returning, later, to the hotel, she had gone to Ruth Morton's room and
+attacked her. The nature of that attack, the effect upon the girl, were
+as yet uncertain. Ruth Morton was still unconscious.
+
+Meanwhile, as he learned from the clerk, Grace had received a telephone
+message and hurriedly left the hotel. The clerk did not know from whom
+the message had come.
+
+Duvall went to Ruth Morton's bedroom, and called the doctor aside.
+
+"What is the exact nature of Miss Morton's injuries?" he asked.
+
+"She has no injuries, at least in the sense I think you mean. She is
+suffering solely from the effects of shock."
+
+"What sort of shock?"
+
+"I do not know, of course. Fright, of some sort, terrible fright, I
+should say. I am informed that some woman, some enemy of hers, came to
+this room, and was alone with her."
+
+"There is no evidence of any violence?"
+
+"None whatever. But the effects of shock are often worse than those of
+actual physical violence. They have frequently been known to cause
+death."
+
+"You do not, I hope, anticipate anything of the sort in this case."
+
+"I cannot say." The doctor shook his head. "She must have been very
+weak. Her system is responding very slowly."
+
+Duvall glanced over to where Mrs. Morton hung in agonized silence over
+her daughter's bed, then went out into the sitting room. It seemed to
+him well nigh incredible that the woman responsible for all this had
+been able to move about, to elude pursuit, to carry out her threats,
+apparently without the least hesitation or fear of capture. His
+professional pride had received severe shock.
+
+Two means of finding the woman, he felt, were still open to him. One was
+to trace her through Miss Ford. He did not doubt that, after what he had
+said to the latter, she would make an immediate attempt to warn her
+confederate of the danger that threatened her. Of course, the Ford girl
+might communicate with her companion by telephone, in which event the
+tracing would be difficult, if not impossible.
+
+The other hope of tracing the woman lay in Grace. Why had she left the
+hotel so suddenly? He did not of course know the source of the telephone
+message, and could only surmise that Grace had in some way been able to
+pick up the woman's trail.
+
+Leaving Mrs. Morton with a few words of encouragement, he made his way
+to his hotel. There was no news there of Grace, however, and he realized
+that it was now too late to accomplish anything by returning to the
+house on 57th Street. Marcia Ford would either have long since retired,
+or else would have left the house to communicate with the woman who had
+been with her earlier in the evening. Considerably upset by the events
+of the past three hours, Duvall retired to his room, and sat down to
+think the whole matter over.
+
+Proceeding on the assumption that the woman in question, and Miss Ford
+were acting together, all the events at the studio, the fake telegram,
+the missing photograph, became intelligible. But the delivery of the
+letters in Ruth Morton's apartment, the strange attack upon him while
+searching the Ford girl's room, were by no means so clear. Once more his
+thoughts reverted to the attic room, the roof of the adjoining house,
+the problem of effecting an entrance to the Morton apartment through
+either of the two windows.
+
+And then, as he revolved the problem in his mind, a sudden light came to
+him. He sprang from his chair with an exclamation of satisfaction. A
+solution of the whole matter flashed through his brain, a solution at
+once so simple, and so ingenious, that he wondered he had not thought of
+it before.
+
+He glanced at his watch. It was midnight. Too late, perhaps, to test the
+accuracy of his deductions. Nor did he feel at all easy in his mind
+regarding Grace. Something must have happened to her, he feared, to keep
+her out so late, with no word to him concerning her movements. He went
+to the 'phone, and calling up the office, inquired whether anything had
+been heard of Mrs. Duvall.
+
+"No," the night clerk informed him. Mrs. Duvall had not been heard from,
+nor had she sent any message. But a note had just been left for her. He
+would send it up.
+
+Duvall awaited the arrival of the note with the utmost impatience. A
+message for Grace. From whom? What could it mean? A few moments later
+one of the bellboys thrust into his hand a letter, written on the note
+paper of the hotel.
+
+He regarded the scrawling and ill-written superscription with
+apprehension, then tore open the envelope and proceeded to read the
+contents of the note.
+
+"Dear Madam," it said. "I waited till nearly midnight. When you did not
+come, I thought you must have gone out some other way, so came back to
+the hotel. I hope I did right. Respectfully yours, Martin Leary." Duvall
+stared at the words before him with a look of alarm. Who was Martin
+Leary? And where had he waited for Grace until nearly midnight? And,
+above all, why had she not returned? Had some accident, some danger
+befallen her? The circumstances made it seem highly probable.
+
+There was but one thing to do--to question the night clerk, and find
+out, if possible, who Leary was. He rushed to the elevator and made his
+way to the lobby with all speed.
+
+"Who left this note for Mrs. Duvall?" he asked of the clerk.
+
+"Why,"--the man paused for a moment--"one of the cabmen, I believe."
+
+"Is his name Leary--Martin Leary?"
+
+"Yes. It was Leary, come to think of it. Nothing wrong, I hope, Mr.
+Duvall."
+
+"I'll know later. Where is Leary now?"
+
+"Couldn't say, sir. You might ask the cab starter?"
+
+Almost before the clerk had finished speaking, Duvall had darted across
+the lobby and made his way to the taxicab office at the door.
+
+"Taxi, sir?" the man asked. "Do you know a chauffeur named Martin
+Leary?" exclaimed Duvall.
+
+"Yes, sir. One of our regular men, sir."
+
+"Where is he?"
+
+The starter glanced along the row of taxicabs.
+
+"He's turned in for the night, sir. Left for the garage some time ago.
+He's been on duty since early this morning."
+
+"Where is the garage?"
+
+"On Lexington Avenue, sir, near 30th Street."
+
+"Does Leary sleep there?"
+
+"No, sir. I don't think so, sir. They would know at the garage, I
+guess."
+
+"Very well. Get me a cab. I want to be taken there at once."
+
+The starter called to one of the drivers, and a few moments later Duvall
+was being driven at a rapid rate toward the garage.
+
+His inquiries, on his arrival there, developed the fact that Leary had
+left for his home, on Second Avenue, some little time before. Duvall
+secured the address, and once more set out.
+
+He felt greatly alarmed at Grace's failure to put in an appearance.
+Something must have happened to her. Clearly the case was going very
+much against him--the woman's second escape--the attack on Ruth
+Morton--now the disappearance of Grace. He felt that the time had come
+for action of a quick and drastic nature.
+
+Leary lived with his wife and two children on the third floor of a
+Second Avenue tenement. Hastily climbing the two flights of dark steps,
+Duvall rapped on the door. He was overjoyed when it was opened by a man
+whom he judged to be the chauffeur himself.
+
+"Are you Martin Leary?" he asked.
+
+"Yes, sir." The man wiped his mouth with the back of his hand, choking
+down a bit of cold supper he had been eating, before turning in.
+
+"I am Richard Duvall. You drove my wife uptown, somewhere, did you not?"
+
+"Yes, sir. To Columbus Avenue and Ninety-sixth Street, sir. Won't you
+come in?"
+
+"No. There isn't time. I want you to put on your coat and come along
+with me. Mrs. Duvall has not returned, and I am afraid something has
+happened to her."
+
+The man turned and called to someone inside the flat.
+
+"Gimme my hat and coat, Kitty," he said, then turned again to Duvall. "I
+suppose I should have waited, sir, but after two hours went by, I made
+up my mind that Mrs. Duvall didn't need me any longer."
+
+"What is the building at Columbus Avenue and 96th Street?" Duvall asked,
+as the man, pulling on the coat his wife handed him, strode down the
+hall.
+
+"An apartment building, sir."
+
+"And why did Mrs. Duvall go there?"
+
+"Well, sir, we was following a woman, sir. She went to a hotel on
+Seventy-second Street, and Mrs. Duvall told me to watch for her. I did,
+and tracked her to the place at 96th Street. Then I telephoned to Mrs.
+Duvall to come, and she did."
+
+"What time was that?"
+
+"About half-past nine, sir."
+
+"All right. Go on."
+
+"Mrs. Duvall came, sir, in another taxi. I pointed out the place where
+the woman went in, and Mrs. Duvall went in after her. She didn't say I
+was to wait, but I guess she expected me to, because she had sent the
+other cab away. I waited over two hours, and then, when she didn't come
+out, I supposed she had returned to her hotel, so I came back, too. She
+wasn't there, though. That's why I left the note."
+
+"How did you think Mrs. Duvall could have gotten back to her hotel, if
+you were watching the door of the apartment house all the time?"
+
+"I wasn't watching it all the time, sir. I went into the drug store
+once, sir, and got a cigar. And then, later on, I went to a saloon a
+piece down the Avenue and got a glass of beer. Mrs. Duvall didn't say I
+was to watch the place, sir. I thought when she got through what she had
+to do, she would come back to the cab. But she didn't. Do you think I
+ought to have waited, sir?" The man seemed greatly distressed.
+
+"No use talking about that now," Duvall remarked, shortly. "I want to
+drive there at once. Get on the box, with the chauffeur, and point out
+the place to him."
+
+"Yes, sir." A moment later they had started on their way uptown.
+
+Knowing as he did Grace's impetuous nature, Duvall could only conclude
+that her pursuit of the woman had led her into some trap. What danger
+she might at this moment be facing, he could only surmise. The apartment
+building, when they finally reached it, presented a grim and forbidding
+appearance. Not a light broke the darkness of any of its windows. The
+drug store on the opposite corner, too, was closed for the night. The
+whole locality was dark and silent.
+
+"There's the place, sir," Leary exclaimed, as they drew up to the
+corner.
+
+"Tell the driver to stop a few doors up the block--not right in front of
+the building."
+
+Leary nodded. Presently the cab stopped, and he and Duvall got out.
+
+The detective's first move was to ascertain whether or not the building
+had any rear exit, by which Grace might have left, without being seen by
+Leary. He walked down the avenue to its rear wall, only to find that it
+abutted against the wall of the next building. There was no rear
+entrance.
+
+If, then, Grace had not left the place during the past hour, she must
+still be in one of the ten flats that formed the five floors of the
+building. But which one? That, apparently, was the problem he had to
+solve.
+
+It would be useless, he felt, to inquire at the doors of the various
+apartments at this hour of the morning. Admission, at least on the part
+of those he sought, would certainly be refused. Yet he felt that there
+was no time to be lost.
+
+Stationing Leary before the front door, with instructions to keep a
+careful watch, Duvall went into the vestibule, and by means of his
+pocket light, inspected the names of the occupants of the building, as
+Grace had done a short time before. The hallway inside was dark, with
+the exception of a dim light at the foot of the stairs. Apparently the
+place boasted no elevator or hall-boy service.
+
+The ten names on the boxes in the vestibule meant nothing to him. How
+was it possible to determine which one was that of the woman he sought?
+Weinberg--Scully--Martin--Stone--he ran down the list, trying to find
+some distinguishing mark, some clue, that would guide him.
+
+Suddenly he paused, allowing the light from his torch to rest upon the
+card bearing the name of one of the tenants on the fourth floor.
+
+This card had attracted his attention, because it was different from any
+of the others in the two racks. They were either engraved or printed
+visiting cards, stuck inside the brass frames provided for them, or the
+names were written or printed by hand upon blank cards. But this card,
+bearing simply the inscription E. W. Norman, was neither engraved nor
+printed, nor written by hand. On the contrary, it was _typewritten_.
+
+This in itself at once attracted Duvall's attention, owing to the fact
+that the various letters received by Ruth Morton had also all been
+typewritten. If the name, Norman, was an assumed one, as Duvall
+concluded it to be, what more natural than that it should be
+_typewritten_ on a blank card, especially when a regular printed or
+engraved card was not available; when to have it written in long hand
+would have been a disclosure of identity, and when, above all, the woman
+in question possessed, and knew how to operate, a typewriter.
+
+There was more than this, however, about the name on the card, to
+convince Duvall that E. W. Norman was the woman he sought. He recalled
+with distinctness the two salient features of the typewriting in all the
+letters sent to Miss Morton, the misplaced "a," and the broken lower
+right-hand corner of the capital "W." He looked closely at the two
+letters in the name before him. The "a" was misplaced, the "W" minus its
+lower right-hand corner. The evidence seemed to be complete.
+
+The next thing to be considered was, how could he first obtain entrance
+to the apartment building, and, subsequently, to the flat of the woman
+posing as E. W. Norman? Were he to ring the latter's bell, he felt quite
+sure she would not respond by unfastening the front door, but she would
+on the contrary be warned, and even if unable to escape, might destroy
+the evidence he hoped to find in her possession.
+
+On the other hand, to ring the bell of one of the other apartments might
+result in the unlatching of the front door, but might involve
+explanations, difficult, in the circumstances, to make. There was no
+help for it, however. Duvall pressed the bell belonging to the family
+named Scully.
+
+It was a long time before there was any response. Duvall had almost
+begun to despair of getting one, when he heard the clicking of the
+electric latch, and found that he could turn the knob and enter the
+hallway.
+
+He had barely done so, when at big, burly-looking man, who might have
+been a bartender, or a head waiter, appeared in the door of one of the
+ground floor apartments, clad only in his night clothes.
+
+"Well--whatcha want?" he growled.
+
+Duvall stepped up to him quickly, and spoke in a pleasant voice.
+
+"I'm mighty sorry," he said. "I rang your bell by mistake. Pardon me."
+
+The man glared at him, suspicion blazing from his eyes.
+
+"That's an old one," he retorted. "How do I know you ain't a burglar?"
+
+"Do I look like one?" Duvall asked.
+
+The man ignored this question.
+
+"Rang my bell by mistake, did you? Who do you want to see?"
+
+"I have some business with a lady on the fourth floor." He went closer
+to the man, and lowered his voice. "I'm a detective, my friend," he
+whispered confidentially. "I'm here on a very important case."
+
+The big man's eyes widened.
+
+"Th' hell you are!" he exclaimed. "Central office?"
+
+"No. Private."
+
+"H--m." The man nodded slowly. "All right. But I guess I'll keep my eye
+on you, just the same." He leaned against the door jamb and watched
+Duvall as he ascended the stairs.
+
+The detective reached the fourth floor at top speed. He was panting,
+when he arrived opposite the door of the apartment he sought. Once
+there, he paused for a moment, listening intently. Not a sound came from
+the interior of the flat.
+
+The problem of obtaining access to the place now confronted him. The
+door was of oak of stout construction. He doubted his ability to break
+it in, nor did he wish to attempt to do so, if it could be avoided.
+Breaking into private apartments, without a warrant, was a serious
+matter. There was a chance that this might not be the right place, after
+all. He hesitated. Yet Grace might be within, in danger, perhaps, of her
+life. It was imperative that he should find out the truth at once.
+
+Stepping up to the door, he knocked sharply upon it, then waited for a
+reply. He scarcely expected one, but felt that he should at least give
+the persons within a chance.
+
+A long silence ensued. Duvall was about to rap again, when, to his
+amazement, the door slowly and noiselessly swung inward, as though
+impelled by some unseen hand.
+
+The room beyond was shrouded in darkness. Duvall could see no one.
+Whoever had opened the door must now be concealed behind it. No one
+either greeted or challenged him. The door swung three-quarters open,
+and stood still. Not a sound was to be heard. The room was as silent as
+a tomb.
+
+Duvall stood on the threshold for a few seconds, listening intently. He
+was greatly astonished by what had occurred. Why had the door been so
+silently opened? Was someone waiting within, ready to attack him the
+moment he made a step forward?
+
+Whether this was the case or not, nothing, he reflected, was to be
+gained by remaining where he was. Drawing an automatic pistol from his
+pocket, he held it in readiness in his right hand, then, raising his
+left arm, he flung his entire weight against the partly opened door.
+
+The door yielded to his attack. Then there came a dull thud, as though
+some heavy body had fallen to the floor, and immediately after the
+hallway resounded with a series of unearthly screams. Duvall still moved
+forward. Then, to his utter surprise, there appeared in the darkness a
+grotesque figure, which immediately hurled itself upon him and began to
+clutch frantically at his throat.
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER XVIII
+
+
+It would be difficult to describe the feelings of Grace Duvall when,
+after having traced the mysterious woman who had attacked Ruth Morton,
+to the flat at Columbus Avenue and Ninety-sixth Street, she had
+foolishly entered the place, and allowed herself to be attacked.
+
+The woman's onslaught had been so sudden, so unexpected, that Grace was
+entirely unable to offer any defense.
+
+Her cries for help had been smothered at once and with the woman's thin
+but muscular fingers clutching at her throat, she found herself forced
+violently back upon a low couch that stood immediately behind her.
+
+For a few moments she struggled violently, striving with both her hands
+to break her assailant's hold upon her, but her efforts were in vain.
+Slowly she realized that she was being choked into unconsciousness. The
+objects in the room, the woman's set face, whirled dimly before her
+eyes, and then everything became blank.
+
+When she once more recovered consciousness, she found herself still
+lying upon the couch. Her throat ached fearfully, and there was a dull
+roaring in her head.
+
+She opened her eyes and looked about. The room was quite dark. Only a
+very faint glow came through the windows at its further end--the dim
+reflection of the lights in the street. So far as she could determine,
+she was alone.
+
+She tried to move her arms, her feet, but found them bound fast. A
+moment later she realized that a piece of cloth of some sort, tightly
+rolled, had been forced into her mouth. She could not utter a sound.
+
+There was no one in the room, but from the one which adjoined it in the
+rear came the murmur of voices.
+
+By twisting her head about she was able to learn that the door
+connecting the two was ajar, and through the narrow opening came a thin
+ribbon of light.
+
+As her senses became clearer, she realized that two persons were in the
+room beyond her, and from the sounds they made, the words which from
+time to time came to her ears, it appeared that they were engaged in the
+operation of packing.
+
+At first the words that filtered through the partly open doorway were
+mere fragments of conversation--words spoken here and there in a
+slightly higher key, and therefore distinguishable to her. She made out
+that her captors supposed her to be still unconscious--that they were
+preparing to leave the place.
+
+"There's no hurry," she presently heard one of the women say, in a
+somewhat louder voice. "If she had had friends waiting outside for her,
+they would have come to her rescue long ago. I'm sure nobody knows where
+she is."
+
+"And her husband had gone, long before I left the house. I was watching,
+and he first went to a saloon on the corner, and then drove off in a
+taxicab. So I couldn't have been followed here."
+
+"No. But I think we ought to get away as soon as possible. When does
+that train go?"
+
+"Not until half past five."
+
+"We'll have to wait in the station, then."
+
+"Why not here?"
+
+"Because that woman's husband, when she fails to return to-night, is
+certain to look for her. She probably came in a cab, and he might trace
+her that way. My advice is to leave here as soon as possible. Have you
+finished packing that suit case?"
+
+"No, not quite. What do you propose to do with Jack?"
+
+"I was going to take him with me."
+
+"I don't see how you can do that."
+
+"Why not?"
+
+"Because, if any attempt is made to follow us, he would be a certain
+means of identification."
+
+There was silence for a time. Grace heard the sounds of drawers being
+opened and shut, as the two women hurried through their task. Who was
+Jack, she wondered? There had been no sounds to indicate the presence of
+a third person in the next room.
+
+Presently she heard the voices again.
+
+"I think the whole affair has been a mistake, anyway," one of them said
+petulantly. "I don't see what you have gained by it."
+
+"I've gotten my revenge on that baby-faced Morton girl. The stuck-up
+thing. I'll bet she won't act again in a hurry. What right has she to be
+getting a thousand a week, when they wouldn't give me a chance at any
+price. I may not be as good-looking as she is, but I'm a better actress.
+I hate her. I believe she told the director I wouldn't do--that's why I
+didn't get the job. And after running down to the studio every day for
+three weeks, too. I hate her, I tell you. I hope she's never able to act
+again." The woman spoke with an intensity, a violence that made Grace
+shudder.
+
+"How do you ever suppose they came to connect _me_ with the matter?" the
+other woman said after a time. "They didn't know my address, at the
+studio. And even if they had, I have never been seen with you. I don't
+see why they ever suspected me."
+
+"I don't know. That man Duvall is pretty shrewd, though. I _did_ manage
+to get away from him, the other night. I'd like to have seen his face,
+when he got back to the cab and found me gone."
+
+"His wife followed you here, from the hotel, I suppose. You took an
+awful chance."
+
+"I don't understand how she traced me. I knew she was following me, and
+when she saw me go up in the elevator, at the hotel, I expected her to
+come, too. I was afraid they might prevent me from coming down, while
+they were coming up, so I walked down. I watched, from the stairs, and
+saw her and the clerk get out of the elevator on the floor where that
+girl's apartment was. Then I came down the stairs and went out the side
+entrance. I knew she was upstairs, when I left, and I don't see how she
+traced me."
+
+"Perhaps she had her taxi driver do it."
+
+"That's just about it. And if he did, like as not he's waiting for her
+yet."
+
+The other woman laughed.
+
+"Nice wait he'll have," she said.
+
+"That's all very well, but won't he see us going out?"
+
+"Suppose he does. Anyway, it's dark, and we'll wear veils. And we won't
+go out together. But I don't think he'll wait so long."
+
+"If he doesn't, he'll go back to the hotel and report, and then the
+woman's husband will be up here in no time. I think we'd better get out
+now. You'll have to leave the trunk. There's nothing much in it."
+
+Again there was a long silence. Then Grace heard the door open, and the
+two women came into the room, carrying their suitcases. She closed her
+eyes and pretended to be still unconscious. One of the women paused
+beside her.
+
+"If they don't find out where she is," she whispered to her companion,
+"she's likely to stay here and starve to death."
+
+"I shouldn't be sorry," the other snarled. "But if you feel badly about
+it, it's easy enough to telephone to-morrow and tell the janitor to let
+her out. No chance of a cab, I guess."
+
+"No. Not at this hour. We'll take the car down to Forty-second Street,
+and cross over. Are you ready?"
+
+"Yes. I'd better put out the light, though."
+
+"All right." The first woman moved to the door, while the second
+returned to the bedroom and snapped off the light. A moment later Grace
+saw her ghostly figure pass the couch, and then the snapping of the door
+catch told her that she was alone.
+
+The thought was anything but a pleasant one. If Richard did not happen
+to remember Leary--she knew she had mentioned him in connection with the
+address on the torn card he had given her--it was by no means impossible
+that she might lie where she was, helpless, for days. And in that event,
+starvation, or what was worse, thirst, might very readily serve to
+fulfill the woman's predictions. She shivered at the thought of spending
+hours, days, in this place alone.
+
+But was she alone? Until now, she had supposed so, in spite of the
+woman's remarks about "Jack," for she had heard not the slightest sound.
+Presently she became aware of a slow, regular scraping sound, that
+seemed to come from one of the rear rooms. It suggested something alive,
+something moving about with stealthy footsteps. Then, all of a sudden,
+there came a loud crash.
+
+Grace gave an involuntary cry, or what would have been a cry, had she
+not been so effectually gagged. The knowledge that she lay helpless,
+unable to protect herself from attack, frightened her. She turned her
+head, straining her eyes into the semi-darkness. Something, some figure,
+was moving toward her from the bedroom, gliding along with swaying,
+noiseless steps. What it was, she could not determine; from its
+appearance against the darkness of the doorway it looked like a crawling
+figure in black.
+
+Presently she heard the sound of breathing, and with it a mumbling
+noise, as though the apparition were talking to itself. Two eyes seemed
+to gleam through the darkness. There was a hissing yet guttural sound,
+human in quality, yet horrible to her ears.
+
+And then, without warning, the figure sprang toward her, and flung its
+arms about her neck.
+
+With a gasp of fear, Grace turned and buried her face in the pillows.
+Fingers seemed clutching at her hair. An arm, wearing a silken sleeve,
+brushed her cheek, lay across her throat. A low voice muttered
+unintelligibly in her ear, filling her with horror. She felt her senses
+reeling. She thought herself about to faint.
+
+Then, in a moment, the creature was gone, and she heard it moving
+noisily about the further end of the room.
+
+From time to time there came a crash, as though in the darkness it had
+upset something. Then would follow long, uncanny periods of stillness,
+broken only by the horrible muttering. She lay with her head buried in
+the pillows, wondering at what instant the figure would again appear at
+her side.
+
+For a long time she remained thus, straining her ears to keep track of
+the creature's movements. And as the moments passed, she began to take
+courage, to hope that since no harm had as yet been offered her, the
+_thing_ in the room, whatever it was, might not come near her again.
+
+It appeared to have crept to the door, and from it came a low, quite
+human whimpering, as though it were in great grief. Perhaps, Grace
+thought, this was caused by the absence of the two women. She lay quite
+still, trying vainly to free her hands from their encircling bands,
+praying silently that Richard would come to her assistance. Her nerves
+were badly shaken. She contemplated hours, even days of such a situation
+with terror. At least, however, the coming of the dawn would bring one
+relief. She would be able to see what this uncanny thing was that shared
+her captivity.
+
+Suddenly she became aware that some one was ascending the stairs in the
+hall outside. Could it be Richard coming to her assistance? She strained
+her ears, fearing that it might be only one of the tenants of the
+apartment above, returning home at a late hour.
+
+The creature at the door had apparently also heard the approaching
+sound, for its whimperings ceased. Grace could tell by its movements
+that it had risen. There was a faint sound of fingers sliding over the
+polished surface of the door. The steps outside came to a halt.
+
+With all her force Grace tried to cry out, but the gag prevented her
+from uttering a sound. Then there came a sharp knocking at the door.
+
+The figure before it seemed to be fumbling noiselessly with the catch.
+In a moment Grace felt, rather than saw, that the door had been opened.
+Another interval of silence came, and then the person outside flung
+himself heavily forward.
+
+The silence of the room was broken by a fall, a succession of unearthly
+screams. Grace saw a dark body go hurtling through the air, and then
+came the sharp, vicious crack of a pistol. The next thing she saw was
+her husband, bending over her, flashing an electric torch in her face.
+With frightened eyes she looked up at him and tried to smile.
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER XIX
+
+
+The first thing that Duvall did, after releasing Grace from her bonds,
+was to take her in his arms and kiss her. Then he found the electric
+switch upon the wall and turned on the lights.
+
+"What--what was it?" Grace asked, staring before her in horror.
+
+"What was what?" he questioned.
+
+"That--that thing that was locked in here with me."
+
+"Poor creature. A monkey. I'm sorry I had to shoot it." He pointed to a
+crumpled figure on the floor dressed in a gay costume of red silk.
+
+"But--what was a monkey doing here?"
+
+"I'll explain all that later. Where is the woman?" He glanced toward the
+silent bedroom.
+
+"They have gone?"
+
+"They?"
+
+"Yes. There were two."
+
+"Ah! The Ford girl. I might have known. Where did they go?"
+
+"I--I don't know. To the station, I think. They said something about
+waiting there for a train."
+
+"What station?"
+
+"They didn't say. But they spoke of taking a car to 42nd Street, and
+crossing over. It must have been the Grand Central."
+
+"Or possibly the West Shore. We'll have to try both. Are you able to
+leave now?"
+
+Grace straightened out her stiffened limbs.
+
+"Yes--I--guess so."
+
+"Then come along."
+
+As they started to leave the place, two men confronted them at the door.
+One was Mr. Scully, he of the ground-floor apartment, the other a short,
+thickset man, who at once announced himself as the janitor of the
+building.
+
+"What's going on up here?" he questioned. "I heard a shot."
+
+Duvall pointed to the crumpled heap on the floor.
+
+"I had to shoot it, though I'm sorry now that I did. It attacked me in
+the dark. I couldn't afford to take any chances. My wife was locked in
+here, and was, so far as I knew, in grave danger."
+
+"Your wife?" The man glanced at Grace.
+
+"Yes."
+
+"But--where is Miss Norman? And how did that monkey get in here?"
+
+"Miss Norman left here some time ago. Another woman, by the name of
+Ford, was with her. She brought the monkey."
+
+"What for?"
+
+"I imagine she didn't want to leave it at her rooms. She did not expect
+to return there."
+
+"And Miss Norman's gone, you say?"
+
+"Yes."
+
+"Where to?"
+
+"I don't just know, but I mean to find out at once. She has been guilty
+of a grave offense, on account of which I have been trying to lay my
+hands on her for several days. My wife tells me she took most of her
+belongings with her in her flight."
+
+"Flight, eh?" the man growled. "And she owes us a month's rent. I hope
+you find her."
+
+"I think I shall. Meanwhile, suppose you wait here in the apartment, in
+case, for any reason, she comes back. If I find her I shall bring her
+here at once, and unless the place is open I couldn't very well get in."
+
+"All right." The man glanced about the disordered room. "That damned
+monkey has smashed a lamp and a lot of ornaments that somebody's got to
+pay for. Miss Norman rented this place furnished."
+
+Duvall made no reply, but nodding to Grace, led the way to the hall.
+
+"I'll be back soon, whether I find the woman or not," he said. "I've got
+some investigations to make here."
+
+Accompanied by Grace, he descended to the cab. Leary seemed overjoyed to
+realize that Grace was safe, and began a long apology for his
+carelessness in not waiting for her earlier in the evening, but Duvall
+cut him short.
+
+"Good thing you didn't," he said. "By coming back to the hotel and
+leaving the note for Mrs. Duvall, you made it possible for me to find
+her, and if I hadn't"--he paused and looked at Grace with a troubled
+face--"there's no knowing what might have happened. Tell the chauffeur
+to drive to the Grand Central Station."
+
+It was three o'clock when the cab drew up at the curb. In spite of the
+lateness of the hour, there were a good many persons moving in and out
+of the station. Duvall got out and motioned to Grace and Leary to do the
+same.
+
+"We will all go in by different doors," he explained, "and meet in the
+general waiting-room. If the women are not there, Mrs. Duvall will look
+through the women's room. If you see them, and they make no effort to
+escape, wait for me to join you. If they do try to get away, detain them
+until I come."
+
+It was Duvall himself, however, who first caught sight of the objects of
+their pursuit. They sat, both apparently asleep, on a bench in one
+corner of the main waiting room. The detective was not certain of their
+identity, heavily veiled as they were, until he had gone quite close up
+to them. Then he saw that they were Miss Ford and the woman who had
+escaped from him while in the cab the night before.
+
+He leaned over and tapped the Ford girl on the shoulder.
+
+"Wake up, Miss Ford," he exclaimed.
+
+The girl shivered, then struggled to her feet. Her companion appeared to
+be too dazed to move, although she opened her eyes and stared at him
+with a vague and terrified face.
+
+"Will you come with me quietly," he said, "or shall I call a policeman
+and have you put under arrest for the attack upon my wife?" He addressed
+himself more particularly to the woman who was sitting.
+
+She now rose and made a movement as though to attempt to escape. Duvall
+grasped her by the arm.
+
+"It will be quite useless to attempt it, Miss Norman," he said. "I have
+help close at hand in case it is needed." He glanced toward Grace and
+Leary, who were now approaching. "I do not wish to use any violence, of
+course, but you and your friend are going back to the apartment on
+Ninety-sixth Street with me."
+
+His voice, his manner, made it apparent to the two women that escape was
+hopeless. They seemed suddenly to realize it, to give up further ideas
+of resistance.
+
+"Very well," Miss Norman said, "we will go."
+
+"Good." Duvall turned to Leary. "Take those two suit cases, Leary, and
+get another cab." In silence the little party made its way to the
+street. The two women said nothing on the way back to the apartment, and
+Duvall did not question them. There was time enough for that, he
+reflected, after they reached their destination. Within less than an
+hour from the time of their departure, their entire party was back in
+the woman's apartment.
+
+The janitor was still there on guard, but the body of the dead monkey
+had been removed. Duvall, requesting Leary to remain, closed the door.
+The janitor rose and came toward them.
+
+"Look here, Miss Norman," he began, "who's going to pay for that broken
+lamp and them vases and ornaments?"
+
+The woman regarded him with a stare, but said nothing.
+
+"Never mind about those things now," Duvall said. "They can remain. I
+have some questions of much greater importance to ask these ladies. You
+need not wait. In fact, I should prefer that you did not. The matter is
+a private one." The janitor took his departure, grumbling to himself,
+and Duvall closed and bolted the door. Then he requested the two women
+to be seated. They obeyed without a word.
+
+"Why did you send those threatening messages to Miss Morton?" he
+suddenly asked, addressing himself to Miss Norman.
+
+She faced him defiantly.
+
+"I'll answer no questions," she flung at him. "You can't prove I sent
+anybody any messages."
+
+"Do you deny it, then?"
+
+"Yes!"
+
+Duvall turned to Grace.
+
+"You saw this woman enter Miss Morton's hotel to-night and go up in the
+elevator, did you not?"
+
+"Certainly!"
+
+"Do you deny that?" The detective once more addressed Miss Norman.
+
+"No. What of it? How do you know I went to Miss Morton's room?" Her
+defiance was in no way lessened. Duvall saw that she meant to deny her
+guilt utterly. He turned to Leary.
+
+"This woman came to you, did she not, with a request that you spy on my
+wife's movements, and inform her concerning them?"
+
+The chauffeur nodded.
+
+"Yes, sir. She did."
+
+Again Miss Norman spoke.
+
+"Suppose I did. What then?"
+
+"You will admit, I presume, that you fainted at the theatre the other
+night when the picture of the death's-head seal was thrown on the
+screen, and that later you escaped from the cab in which I had placed
+you?"
+
+"Certainly I will admit it. The hideous thing startled me. As for
+escaping from the cab, I had every reason to do so. You had not only
+attempted to drug me, but after that you tried to steal the contents of
+my purse. You are the one who ought to be arrested, not I."
+
+The woman's attitude began to annoy Duvall, especially as, so far, he
+realized fully that the evidence against her was entirely circumstantial
+and vague. He turned away, and began to search the rooms.
+
+The search, although he conducted it with the utmost minuteness, was
+quite unproductive of results. If the woman possessed a typewriter, she
+had apparently made away with it. The scrap basket contained nothing but
+a few torn bits of paper of no value. There was no stationery on the
+small desk in the living room, no black sealing wax, such as had been
+used to make the seals. Duvall began to realize that the case against
+his prisoner was far from complete. Returning from a fruitless search of
+the bedroom, Duvall's eye fell upon the two suitcases that the women had
+carried in their flight. He bent over to them at once, and proceeded to
+open them, one after the other.
+
+"Search them, please." He nodded to Grace.
+
+The latter did so with the utmost care, but found nothing of an
+incriminating nature. The two women sat in stony silence, showing little
+interest in the proceedings. Duvall went over to them.
+
+"Show me your rings," he said to Miss Norman.
+
+The woman held out her hand.
+
+"Take them off."
+
+She stripped from her finger three rings. One was a gold seal with a
+monogram upon it, another a cheap affair set with pearls, the third a
+twisted gold band. None of the rings contained the mysterious
+death's-head seal, or could in any way have concealed it.
+
+An examination of Miss Ford's stock of jewelry produced no better
+results.
+
+"Let me see the contents of your purse," Duvall said, indicating a
+leather bag the Norman woman carried on her wrist.
+
+She handed the bag over with an almost imperceptible smile. Duvall
+examined it but without result. The seal was not inside. Nor did Miss
+Ford's purse, a silver one, contain anything worthy of his notice. He
+handed the two back.
+
+"Anything else you would like to see?" Miss Norman asked with cutting
+irony.
+
+Duvall walked over to the window and looked out. It was still quite
+dark. The woman's assurance puzzled him. It was quite clear now that
+unless he could find the typewriter, the letter paper, the missing seal,
+and could connect this woman with them, there remained but a single way
+in which she could be connected with the attacks upon Miss Morton, and
+that would be by the direct testimony of the motion-picture actress
+herself, concerning the woman's visit to her room. But suppose the visit
+had been made in disguise. It would have been simple enough to have put
+on a mask on entering the room and subsequently have thrown it away. And
+Miss Morton, frightened as she had been, might be totally unable to
+identify her assailant. She had covered her tracks well. Was she then to
+go free?
+
+The matter of the typewriter Duvall put aside for the moment. The woman
+might readily have a friend who possessed one--a hotel stenographer,
+perhaps, who had permitted her to make use of her machine. But the seal
+was a matter of more importance. His examination of the several
+impressions had shown him that it was extremely well carved--a decidedly
+expensive piece of work. Of course, the woman might have thrown it away
+during her flight, but it seemed unlikely. What had she done with it?
+The question was one to which he felt he must find an answer.
+
+Again, with Grace's assistance, he examined the articles in the women's
+suitcases, testing the backs of hairbrushes, the contents of powder
+boxes, the interior of a cake of soap, a bottle of shoe blackening, but
+the search was as unproductive of results as before. Duvall was forced,
+against his will, to the conclusion that the woman had made away with
+the seal, rather than run the risk of its being found upon her person.
+
+"Is there anything more you want of us?" Miss Norman asked, when he had
+again closed the suitcases. "If not, my friend and I would like to go."
+She rose as though to take her departure.
+
+"Yes. There is one thing more. You will have to go to Mrs. Morton's
+hotel with me, so that her daughter may have an opportunity to identify
+you. But it is far too early to start now. I will send out presently and
+have some breakfast brought in."
+
+It was beginning to grow light now. Duvall suggested to Grace that she
+had better go out into the little kitchenette at the rear of the
+apartment and see if she couldn't find the materials for preparing some
+coffee. He himself sat down at the little writing desk, and proceeded
+once more to examine its varnished surface with the greatest care. He
+had thought, if the letters had been sealed here, there would in all
+probability be some tiny spots of the black sealing wax upon the desk
+top, but he could discover nothing. Presently he heard Grace calling to
+him from the kitchen.
+
+Directing Leary to keep an eye on the two women, he joined her at once.
+
+"What is it?" he asked. "Have you discovered anything?"
+
+"No, not exactly. But--what does that mean?" She pointed to a candle
+which stood in a tin holder on the table. "Do you notice the spots of
+black wax on the candlestick?"
+
+Duvall took the candlestick up and looked at it. There were large
+splashes of sealing wax all over the bottom of the tin tray, not minute
+spots, such as might have been made by the dropping of bits of the hot
+wax in making a seal, but circular splotches half an inch or more in
+diameter, as though a great quantity of the material had been melted.
+
+"What do you make of it?" Duvall asked.
+
+"I don't know. Looks as though she had melted up the whole stick, for
+some reason or other. Possibly to destroy it."
+
+"Hardly that. It would have been far easier to have simply thrown it out
+of the window. And besides, the mere possession of a stick of sealing
+wax, black or otherwise, could not be regarded as evidence. This woman
+is smart, very smart and shrewd. She did not melt that wax up for
+nothing. I think I have an idea of her purpose, although I cannot, of
+course, be sure, yet. Did you find some coffee?"
+
+"Yes. I'll have it ready very soon. What do you make of this woman's
+attitude?"
+
+"It is simple enough. She believes that she can bluff this thing out
+without it being possible to prove her the author of the letters. And
+she may be right. Certainly, unless Miss Morton can identify her, or we
+can discover the death's-head seal in her possession, she stands a very
+good chance of getting away scot free."
+
+The coffee which Grace presently brought in was drunk by the whole party
+in silence. Duvall seemed unusually preoccupied. His eyes scarcely left
+Miss Norman; he appeared to be studying her, watching her every movement
+with extraordinary interest, although he strove, by assuming a careless
+indifference, to disguise his scrutiny. Grace, who knew his methods,
+realized that the sealing wax in the candlestick had suggested some clue
+to him, which he was trying his best to work out.
+
+At about seven o'clock Leary was sent out to fetch some breakfast. By
+half past eight they were ready to go to see Mrs. Morton.
+
+Before doing so, Duvall thought it wise to call the latter up and make
+arrangements about their coming. He presently got Mrs. Morton on the
+wire.
+
+"Good morning, Mrs. Morton. How is your daughter?" he asked.
+
+"Much better," the reply came. "Very much better. I am going to take her
+back to the apartment at once."
+
+"The apartment?"
+
+"Yes. She will be more comfortable there, and safer, too, I think. We
+came here on your advice so that we might escape this fearful
+persecution. But since the persons who have been threatening my daughter
+have discovered our whereabouts, I see no reason for remaining any
+longer. Do you?"
+
+"No. I was going to suggest that you should return. I think I can quite
+safely assure you that there will be no recurrence of the threats."
+
+"Why do you say that?"
+
+"Because I think the woman who has been making them is now in my hands.
+I will bring her to the apartment a little later in the morning so that
+your daughter may identify her. Will eleven o'clock suit you?"
+
+"Yes, very well."
+
+"Then I will come at that hour. Good-by." He hung up the receiver and
+turned to speak to Grace. His eyes, however, sought the figure of Miss
+Norman. She had not anticipated his quick scrutiny, and had for the
+moment ceased to be on her guard. Duvall smiled to himself. The theory
+which the spots of sealing wax had suggested had in that moment received
+an unexpected confirmation.
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER XX
+
+
+Ruth Morton had received a fearful shock the evening before, but by the
+morning she had recovered from the immediate effects of it, although she
+still felt extremely weak.
+
+When Duvall and his little party arrived at the apartment on
+Fifty-seventh Street, they were received in the library by Mrs. Morton.
+
+She greeted both Grace and Duvall cordially, but it was evident, from
+her manner, that she found the presence of the Norman woman and Miss
+Ford highly distasteful to her.
+
+Duvall drew her to one side, leaving the two women in charge of Leary
+and Grace.
+
+"How is your daughter now, Mrs. Morton?" he asked.
+
+"Better, I think."
+
+"May I see her for a few moments?"
+
+"Yes. She is expecting you. Come this way, please. She is occupying my
+room at present. She still has a fear of the other one--the one she
+formerly used."
+
+"I see. But she need not have it now. There will be no further trouble."
+He followed Mrs. Morton into her bedroom.
+
+Ruth, looking very haggard and white, was sitting in an easy chair by
+the window. Duvall was amazed to note how terribly the shock of the
+night before had affected her.
+
+"How do you do, Miss Morton," he said, offering his hand. "I am glad to
+find you almost yourself again."
+
+The girl looked up with a faint smile.
+
+"Thank you, Mr. Duvall. I am much better. I understand that you have
+found out who has been causing me all this trouble."
+
+"I think I have. But before I go ahead I want you to give me a little
+assistance. Do you think you would know the woman who came to your rooms
+last night, in case you should see her again?"
+
+Miss Morton shuddered.
+
+"I--I don't know. I do not think I saw her face. It was all so very
+sudden----"
+
+"Tell me about it," Duvall said. "It may help me to get at the facts.
+That is, if you feel able to do so."
+
+"I think I do. What shall I tell you?"
+
+"Just describe, in a few words, what happened."
+
+"Well, as you know, I had been feeling rather better yesterday, and had
+begun to rather laugh at my fears. Mother was with me constantly, and
+Nora as well, and I began to feel quite cheerful again, especially as I
+knew that you were making splendid progress and had found the woman who
+had been writing me. Mother told me that you expected to arrest her
+before the day was over. She said your wife had been helping you, too.
+
+"After dinner Nora, who had been in the hotel all day, asked permission
+to go out for awhile and mother told her she might go. The poor girl had
+been almost a prisoner since we arrived at the hotel. That was about
+eight o'clock.
+
+"About half past eight a boy came to the room with a card, upon which
+was written your wife's name, and a note asking if she might see mother
+for a few moments. We both looked at the card and then mother decided to
+go down and see her. She instructed me to lock the door while she was
+out, and of course I did so.
+
+"In a few minutes mother came back. She seemed greatly excited, said
+that she had seen Mrs. Duvall and that you had sent a message to the
+effect that you had arrested the woman who had been threatening me and
+wanted mother to come to your hotel at once to appear against her in
+court. It was necessary, the woman who pretended to be your wife said,
+that mother should come at once, as otherwise the woman couldn't be
+held.
+
+"We talked the matter over for a few moments and I told her that I
+thought she ought to go. She seemed rather afraid to leave me alone, but
+I promised to keep the door locked, and anyway, as I pointed out to her,
+if the woman was arrested I had nothing further to fear.
+
+"At last mother decided she would go, and left me. I locked the door as
+soon as she went out.
+
+"It seemed to me a very few moments before I heard some one rapping. At
+first I supposed that mother had come back for some reason or other.
+Then I thought it might be Nora who had said she was only going out for
+a breath of air. So, suspecting nothing, I unlocked the door and opened
+it.
+
+"A woman came in, very quickly, before I realized it. She was not tall,
+and rather slight, and I think she had light hair. I couldn't see her
+face well because she had twisted a black veil across it, hiding her
+eyes and the upper part of her features. She turned as soon as she got
+in the room and locked the door.
+
+"I was too surprised for a moment to speak, then I asked her what she
+wanted.
+
+"'I want you,' she said in a terrible voice, and I saw that she was
+taking a bottle from her handbag.
+
+"I was so frightened that I could not cry out, although I tried. You
+see, the warnings I had received had gotten me so worked up that my
+nerves were all on edge, and as soon as I saw the bottle, I concluded
+that the woman was about to throw vitriol in my face. So I put my hands
+to my eyes and ran into the bedroom.
+
+"The woman came behind me, saying that my looks would soon be gone, that
+my days as an actress were over, and other things like that which I
+scarcely heard I was so frightened. When she got to me she caught hold
+of my arm and pulled me around, facing her.
+
+"I couldn't keep my eyes closed now, for I simply _had_ to see what she
+was doing. It seemed worse not looking at her, and then I thought I
+might take the bottle away from her and save myself in that way. So I
+took my hands from my face and rushed toward her.
+
+"Then she raised the bottle and dashed something into my face.
+
+"It seemed hot, stinging, and made my eyes burn frightfully. I was sure
+it was vitriol, and the thought was too much for me I guess, for I felt
+myself falling and--well, that's all I remember until I woke up and
+found the doctor and mother there. It was a terrible experience. I could
+scarcely believe them, when they told me, after I came to, that I wasn't
+really hurt at all."
+
+Duvall looked at the girl's face. It showed no signs of injury, although
+her eyes were red and inflamed.
+
+"Then it wasn't vitriol after all?" he asked, wondering.
+
+"No, it apparently wasn't. The doctor said he thought it must have been
+ammonia."
+
+"Remarkable!" Duvall muttered to himself. "Why should she have gone to
+all that trouble, just to frighten you?"
+
+"That's apparently all she intended to do from the start. Do you know,
+Mr. Duvall, I've been thinking this thing over, and I believe her whole
+plan from the beginning was merely to ruin me in my work by _fear_. And
+I must say that she very nearly succeeded."
+
+"Very nearly," said Duvall, with a frown. "If this thing had kept up for
+another week or two, you would have been a complete nervous wreck."
+
+"I am now, I'm afraid," Miss Morton said, sadly. "I don't feel as though
+I could act again for a long time."
+
+"Oh, yes, you will. You have youth, and that is everything. And now,
+tell me, do you think if you took a look at this woman you might
+recognize her?"
+
+The girl shuddered.
+
+"Is she--here?" she asked.
+
+"Yes. In the library."
+
+"You think it would be quite safe?"
+
+"Quite. She can do you no harm while I am here."
+
+"Very well. I will see her if you wish it, but I am very much afraid
+that I shall not be able to identify her." Duvall held out his hand.
+
+"Come," he said. "I will take you in."
+
+Miss Morton rose, and walking slowly and with considerable effort, went
+with him into the front room. Standing in the doorway, with the
+detective beside her, she confronted the two women. They regarded her
+with stony indifference.
+
+"Miss Morton," Duvall said, "do you recognize either of these two women
+as the one who attacked you in your rooms last night?"
+
+The girl gazed helplessly from Miss Ford to her companion and back
+again. Then she slowly shook her head.
+
+"No," she said. "It might have been either of them. They look somewhat
+alike. But as for saying which one it was, if it _was_ either of them,
+I'm afraid I can't. The woman was veiled. The room was not brightly
+lighted. And I was very much frightened."
+
+The look of disappointment in Duvall's face was reflected in that of
+both Grace and Mrs. Morton. The two women, on the contrary, seemed
+vastly relieved. Miss Norman's mouth curled in rather an ironical smile.
+
+"Are you through with this inquisition now?" she asked. "For if you are,
+my friend and myself would like to continue our journey. You have had no
+right to bring us here in the first place, and I am strongly considering
+making a complaint against you for having done so." She grasped firmly
+the umbrella she had held in her hand all the morning, and turned as
+though to go. Leary, however, stood before the door.
+
+"You apparently have forgotten," Duvall remarked, going toward her,
+"that I still have a charge against you for attacking my wife."
+
+"Very well; make it. I can prove that your wife forcibly entered my
+apartment under false pretense, saying that she was collecting money for
+the war sufferers in Poland. If I attacked her, it was in self-defense."
+
+"That isn't true," cried Grace. "You sprang at me----"
+
+"My word is as good as yours," Miss Norman interrupted. "And my friend
+here will bear out what I say." She nodded to Miss Ford. "You also," she
+again faced Duvall, "broke into my apartment without warrant and killed
+my pet monkey. You will have to answer for that as well. You have
+accused me of sending threatening letters to this girl here. I defy you
+to prove it."
+
+Duvall, who had been coming nearer the woman all the time, reached out
+and snatched from her hands the umbrella she held. The others in the
+room regarded him with astonishment. The woman herself gave a cry of
+anger, and starting forward tried to recover her lost property.
+
+Duvall yielded it to her at once, but not before he had torn from the
+handle two small round balls covered with knitted silk that hung from it
+by a heavy silken cord.
+
+Miss Norman, seeing what he had done, drew back with a cry of anger. A
+few incoherent words trailed from her lips. Duvall, paying no attention
+to her, ripped open one of the silk-meshed coverings and extracted from
+it a small, round black object about the size of a hickory nut.
+
+He gazed at it for a moment, then going quickly to the table in the
+center of the room brought the thing down smartly upon its surface.
+
+There was a crackling sound, and bits of some black substance flew in
+every direction. A moment later the detective raised in his hand a
+glittering bit of metal and held it up so that the others might see it.
+
+"The death's-head seal," he said, quietly.
+
+Miss Norman fell on her knees before Ruth Morton, her hands upraised.
+
+"Forgive me--forgive me!" she sobbed.
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER XXI
+
+
+"In reconstructing the case from the beginning," Duvall said, later in
+the day, "one fact stands out with especial prominence--the almost total
+absence of any definite clues."
+
+He was sitting in the library of the Morton apartment, and with him were
+his wife, Mrs. Morton and Ruth.
+
+"The thing was certainly very cleverly done," Mrs. Morton remarked. "I
+still do not understand it in the least. How, for instance, were the
+letters placed in my daughter's room?"
+
+"I am coming to that," replied Duvall. "But first I will run over the
+case in the light of Miss Norman's confession to me so that you may
+understand it thoroughly and decide what action you wish to take against
+her and her sister, Miss Ford."
+
+"Her sister?"
+
+"Yes. The woman's name is not Norman. It is Ford--Jane Ford. Norman is
+an assumed name.
+
+"The two of them came to New York about a year ago from somewhere up the
+state--a small town near Rochester, I believe. One secured employment in
+the motion picture studio--the other, the one calling herself Miss
+Norman, worked as a stenographer.
+
+"Her interest in motion pictures having been aroused by her sister's
+stories of the life in the studio, she became an ardent picture 'fan,'
+and spent every evening watching the films.
+
+"Her attention was particularly devoted to the pictures in which your
+daughter appeared, owing to the stories her sister told her about Miss
+Morton's marvelous salary, her beauty, the ease with which she had
+become famous.
+
+"These stories naturally inflamed her sister's mind. Working for ten
+dollars a week, she began to compare her state with that of a girl of
+her own age earning a hundred times as much, and gradually the idea
+began to possess her that she could become a motion-picture star
+herself.
+
+"At first she admired Miss Morton immensely and never missed an
+opportunity to see the pictures in which she appeared. Then, convinced
+of her own ability as an actress, she made application at the studio at
+which her sister worked for a position.
+
+"It seems she haunted the studio for several weeks without getting any
+encouragement. Then, more to get rid of her than for any other reason,
+one of the directors offered her a place as extra woman in a picture
+Miss Morton was doing--a very minor part, in which she had to appear
+momentarily as a saleswoman at a counter in a department store.
+
+"Unfortunately, when Miss Morton saw her she happened to say to the
+director that she would have preferred a woman of a different type,
+dark, taller, so as to provide a more effective foil to her own type of
+beauty. As a result, the girl did not get the position."
+
+"I am so sorry," Ruth cried. "I hadn't the least idea who the girl was,
+and, of course, I wouldn't have done her any harm for the world."
+
+"I know that," Duvall replied, "but _she_ did not. She is mentally
+rather erratic, and she at once conceived the idea that you had singled
+her out for persecution; that, in fact, you were envious of her
+abilities and meant to prevent her from getting a chance.
+
+"The thing preyed on her mind, and I fancy, unbalanced it a little. She
+conceived a violent hatred for you, and with her sister began to plot
+revenge.
+
+"Her first move was to persuade her sister to move to the house on
+Fifty-seventh Street, close to your apartment. It took them some time to
+find the place--to secure a room situated as Miss Ford's was, but at
+last they managed it. Then they went to work.
+
+"The letters were all typewritten on a machine belonging to a public
+stenographer whom the girls knew. Jane Ford would stop in at this
+woman's place late in the afternoon and asking permission to use one of
+the machines would type the threatening letters. The paper she used was
+procured especially for her by her sister at a stationery store
+downtown.
+
+"The seal, a curious thing, had belonged to the girls' father, and she
+conceived the idea of signing the letters with it to add to the grimness
+of her threats. As a matter of fact, I do not think she ever had the
+least intention of carrying them out. It was to be solely a campaign of
+fear. She probably thought that she could so frighten you, Miss Morton,
+that your health would be broken down, and your work consequently
+interfered with to such an extent that you would lose your position. As
+I say, I think she is mentally somewhat unbalanced. I cannot account for
+some of her actions, otherwise.
+
+"The mailing of the first letter, the telephone messages, were
+comparatively simple. It was the delivery of those at the apartment that
+taxed her ingenuity. Yet the method was simple enough.
+
+"The girls' father, I am told, had been an animal trainer in a circus,
+and one of his bequests to his daughters was a pet monkey named Jack,
+that had been taught to do all sorts of tricks. The girls brought this
+monkey to New York with them after their father's death. When the
+question arose of delivering the letters in your room, Miss Morton, she
+decided to make use of the animal.
+
+"Creeping out of Marcia Ford's bedroom to the roof of the back building,
+and taking the monkey with her, she crossed the roof of the second house
+and reached the wall of the apartment. From here she was in a position
+to reach either of your bedroom windows in the following manner.
+
+"The monkey was led by means of a long, thin rope, attached to a sort of
+harness about his neck and shoulders. By going to the rear edge of the
+back building they could readily swing him over to the fire-escape,
+while by ascending to the top of the attic roof overlooking the court,
+they could in the same way enable him to reach the other window. The
+monkey had been trained to carry objects in his mouth. This accounts for
+the row of indentations on the letters found in your room. I had
+supposed they came from some mechanical device, fastened to the end of a
+long pole, but as a matter of fact, they were made by the monkey's
+teeth.
+
+"The animal being light in weight, and the pads of his feet being, of
+course, soft, no traces of his presence were left on the newly painted
+surface of the fire-escape. The handkerchief that I found there had been
+knotted about his neck as the collar to which the rope was fastened had
+seemed a bit weak. In some way it became detached, probably when the
+girls jerked on the cord to summon him back after he had completed his
+task.
+
+"In crossing the roofs of the two houses, the monkey's paws, as well as
+the rope, became covered with dust. This explains the spots which seemed
+to be finger marks upon the counterpane of your bed, and the long, dark
+straight line across the bed, which I thought might have been left by a
+rod or pole. As a matter of fact, it was made by a tightly stretched
+rope.
+
+"The sending of the monkey on the night when you were lying in bed must
+have been a mistake. You will remember that, contrary to your usual
+habit, you retired that night very early--a little after eight o'clock,
+if I remember correctly. The girls, coming over the room, saw that your
+room was dark, and naturally supposed that no one was in it. The
+grinning face of the monkey standing on the bed beside you, was the
+death's head apparition you thought you saw. At your cries the two women
+at once jerked on the cord, and the monkey hastened back to them through
+the partly raised window, leaving no trace of his presence except the
+black smudges of which I have spoken.
+
+"I have no doubt that Jane Ford followed me back to my hotel after one
+of my early visits to your apartment, and thus learned my name and
+address. Her supposition that I was engaged in an attempt to ferret out
+the writer of the letters was a shrewd guess.
+
+"The photograph was stolen from the studio by Marcia Ford who, being an
+employee, had ample opportunity to stroll about the place after office
+hours without exciting suspicion. She also arranged the subsequent
+delivery of the photograph and the substitution of the fake telegram.
+
+"Even when I made my night visit to Marcia Ford's room, and was attacked
+in the dark by the monkey, I did not suspect what it was. The room was
+pitch dark, and in the gloom I got the impression of a much larger
+object--a person, in fact, and this impression was heightened by the
+fact that the animal wore a silken jacket, and I felt the sleeve of it
+against my throat. I only regret that the noise, the cries he made,
+singularly human in quality, made it necessary for me to leave the place
+so precipitately.
+
+"The Ford girl and her sister had evidently just come in, and rushing to
+the room found evidences of some one having been there. The monkey had
+been shut in a closet, and by opening the door I had, of course,
+released it. Fearing discovery, they arranged to flee at once. Jane Ford
+went uptown. Her sister remained to pack up her belongings.
+
+"The visit to your hotel, the attack on you, was a crazy inspiration of
+the moment. Not knowing that my wife was following her, and having seen
+me on the sidewalk on Fifty-seventh Street as she drove away, Miss
+Norman naturally felt that if she could get you, Mrs. Morton, out of the
+way, she would be perfectly safe in going up to your rooms.
+
+"Even when alone with your daughter, she did not attempt to do her any
+serious bodily injury, but contented herself with hurling the ammonia in
+her face, counting, no doubt, upon the effect of the shock that would
+result. As I have said, the woman is mentally a little unbalanced. The
+things she does are not normal."
+
+"Nevertheless, they came very near being fatal," Mrs. Morton remarked
+grimly. "The doctor informed me that the fright, the shock of her
+experience, might readily have caused Ruth's death, or upset her
+reason."
+
+"I do not doubt it," replied Duvall. "The woman has all the cunning of
+an insane person. She showed it when, overcome by the sight of the
+death's-head seal I had flashed upon the screen at the theater, she so
+quickly recovered herself that she was able to deceive me completely
+regarding her condition, and subsequently to make her escape.
+
+"Both she and her sister realized that it had become necessary for them
+to leave the city. Marcia Ford, taking the monkey with her in a cab,
+hastened uptown to join her sister at the latter's apartment. She knew
+that I was not following her, for she had seen me drive off to join you,
+Mrs. Morton, at my hotel. They both thought themselves quite safe, and
+able to leave the city without interference.
+
+"The arrival of my wife at their apartment caused them to hasten their
+plans. They realized that we were close upon their heels. Jane Ford knew
+that the ring containing the death's-head seal was about the only
+evidence that existed against her, yet she hesitated to throw it away,
+as it had belonged to her father, and she prized it highly. With the
+cunning that she had exhibited throughout, she conceived the idea of
+hiding it in one of the tassels upon the handle of her umbrella.
+
+"These tassels, as you perhaps know, are usually made of round bits of
+wood, enclosed in a covering of knitted silk. The girl removed one of
+the wooden balls, and having embedded the ring in a ball of black
+sealing wax, put it in place of the wooden one. It was a most ingenious
+hiding place, and one extremely unlikely to be discovered."
+
+"How did you happen to discover it, Mr. Duvall?" Mrs. Morton asked.
+
+"In this way. When my wife called my attention to the spots of black wax
+on the tray of the candlestick, I saw at once that a far larger amount
+of the wax had been melted than would have been required in making an
+ordinary seal. The impressions on the warnings the woman sent were very
+small and flat, so as to readily be inserted in the envelopes containing
+the letters without being bulky, or becoming broken while passing
+through the mails. But here were spots of the wax that had dripped down
+as large as a silver quarter and larger. What, I wondered, had caused
+the woman to melt so large a quantity of wax?
+
+"I attempted to put myself in her place and to think what she would do
+to hide the seal ring. The idea of embedding it in a ball of the wax
+occurred to me. But, having done this, what would she do with the ball?
+It was not an easy thing to hide; in her purse, her satchel, it would
+have attracted attention at once. Then I noticed the round black
+ornaments hanging from her umbrella, with their silken cords and
+tassels. What better place to hide the ball of wax?
+
+"In order to test my theory, I twice attempted to take the umbrella from
+her on our way here, as though to relieve her of the trouble of carrying
+it. In both instances she drew back at once, and refused to allow the
+umbrella to leave her possession. This action on her part convinced me
+that my guess had been a correct one. The subsequent finding of the ring
+broke down her assurance. As you know, she has made a complete
+confession."
+
+"Poor woman," Ruth Morton remarked. "What are you going to do with her?"
+
+"That rests with you, Miss Morton. If you decide to prosecute you can
+readily do so. The penalty for sending threatening letters through the
+mails is not a light one. And her attack upon you, under the
+circumstances, is a very serious matter indeed."
+
+Ruth turned to her mother.
+
+"I think we ought to let them go," she said.
+
+"And have the same trouble over again," Mrs. Morton replied. "I could
+never feel safe with that woman at large."
+
+"I do not think she will trouble you again, Mrs. Morton," remarked
+Duvall. "She is thoroughly frightened. All her assurance has
+disappeared. She begs that she and her sister be allowed to return home
+at once. It seems that some relative in Rochester has offered them a
+home there, and they were going to join her when we intercepted them."
+
+"Then let them go," Ruth Morton exclaimed. "I certainly do not wish to
+cause them any harm, especially as you tell me the woman who originated
+the whole thing is mentally not quite right."
+
+"She is certainly unbalanced, so far as her grievance against you is
+concerned. But I feel sure that were you to explain matters to her, and
+let her understand that your action in losing her the position at the
+studio was quite impersonal on your part, she will realize the folly of
+what she has done, and come to her senses."
+
+"I will do it," said Ruth. "I don't want to injure her any more. Let
+them go home in peace."
+
+"Very well." Duvall rose to go. "Permit me to say, Mrs. Morton, that I
+admire your daughter's generosity very much. Good morning." He and Grace
+bade their hosts good-by and took their leave.
+
+"She's a lovely girl," Grace remarked, as they drove to their hotel. "I
+like her immensely."
+
+"Then you aren't jealous of me any more, because I so suddenly became a
+motion-picture 'fan'?"
+
+"Richard!" she laughed. "Don't be silly. I suppose I shall always be
+jealous of you when a girl, as beautiful as Ruth Morton, is concerned.
+After all, to be jealous is only a woman's way of paying tribute to
+another woman's charms."
+
+Duvall laughed.
+
+"It was Miss Ford's way, too," he said, "but as a means of showing one's
+appreciation it had its faults."
+
+
+THE END.
+
+
+
+
+THE NOVELS OF
+
+MARY ROBERTS RINEHART
+
+May be had wherever books are sold. Ask for Grosset & Dunlap's list.
+
+
+"K." Illustrated.
+
+K. LeMoyne, famous surgeon, drops out of the world that has known him,
+and goes to live in a little town where beautiful Sidney Page lives. She
+is in training to become a nurse. The joys and troubles of their young
+love are told with that keen and sympathetic appreciation which has made
+the author famous.
+
+
+THE MAN IN LOWER TEN.
+
+Illustrated by Howard Chandler Christy.
+
+An absorbing detective story woven around the mysterious death of the
+"Man in Lower Ten." The strongest elements of Mrs. Rinehart's success
+are found in this book.
+
+
+WHEN A MAN MARRIES.
+
+Illustrated by Harrison Fisher and Mayo Bunker.
+
+A young artist, whose wife had recently divorced him, finds that his
+aunt is soon to visit him. The aunt, who contributes to the family
+income and who has never seen the wife, knows nothing of the domestic
+upheaval. How the young man met the situation is humorously and most
+entertainingly told.
+
+
+THE CIRCULAR STAIRCASE. Illus. by Lester Ralph.
+
+The summer occupants of "Sunnyside" find the dead body of Arnold
+Armstrong, the son of the owner, on the circular staircase. Following
+the murder a bank failure is announced. Around these two events is woven
+a plot of absorbing interest.
+
+
+THE STREET OF SEVEN STARS.
+
+Illustrated (Photo Play Edition.)
+
+Harmony Wells, studying in Vienna to be a great violinist, suddenly
+realizes that her money is almost gone. She meets a young ambitious
+doctor who offers her chivalry and sympathy, and together with
+world-worn Dr. Anna and Jimmie, the waif, they share their love and
+slender means.
+
+
+
+
+B. M. BOWER'S NOVELS
+
+May be had wherever books are sold. Ask for Grosset and Dunlap's list.
+
+
+CHIP OF THE FLYING U. Wherein the love affairs of Chip and Della Whitman
+are charmingly and humorously told.
+
+
+THE HAPPY FAMILY. A lively and amusing story, dealing with the
+adventures of eighteen jovial, big hearted Montana cowboys.
+
+
+HER PRAIRIE KNIGHT. Describing a gay party of Easterners who exchange a
+cottage at Newport for a Montana ranch-house.
+
+
+THE RANGE DWELLERS. Spirited action, a range feud between two families,
+and a Romeo and Juliet courtship make this a bright, jolly story.
+
+
+THE LURE OF THE DIM TRAILS. A vivid portrayal of the experience of an
+Eastern author among the cowboys.
+
+
+THE LONESOME TRAIL. A little branch of sage brush and the recollection
+of a pair of large brown eyes upset "Weary" Davidson's plans.
+
+
+THE LONG SHADOW. A vigorous Western story, sparkling with the free
+outdoor life of a mountain ranch. It is a fine love story.
+
+
+GOOD INDIAN. A stirring romance of life on an Idaho ranch.
+
+
+FLYING U RANCH. Another delightful story about Chip and his pals.
+
+
+THE FLYING U'S LAST STAND. An amusing account of Chip and the other boys
+opposing a party of school teachers.
+
+
+THE UPHILL CLIMB. A story of a mountain ranch and of a man's hard fight
+on the uphill road to manliness.
+
+
+THE PHANTOM HERD. The title of a moving-picture staged in New Mexico by
+the "Flying U" boys.
+
+
+THE HERITAGE OF THE SIOUX. The "Flying U" boys stage a fake bank robbery
+for film purposes which precedes a real one for lust of gold.
+
+
+THE GRINGOS. A story of love and adventure on a ranch in California.
+
+
+STARR OF THE DESERT. A New Mexico ranch story of mystery and adventure.
+
+
+THE LOOKOUT MAN. A Northern California story full of action, excitement
+and love.
+
+
+
+
+Transcriber's Notes:
+
+
+Typographical errors in original have been corrected as follows:
+
+
+Chapter III
+
+"Would you take one, if it were offered to you," asked Grace quickly.
+changed to: "Would you take one, if it were offered to you?" asked Grace
+quickly.
+
+"No one, but an old negro cook, who has been with me for years.
+changed to: "No one but an old negro cook, who has been with me for
+years.
+
+I am going to take the case largely bceause it has interested me,
+changed to: I am going to take the case largely because it has
+interested me,
+
+
+Chapter IV
+
+Duvall examined this house next door with a great deal of interest
+changed to: Duvall examined this house next door with a great deal of
+interest.
+
+"Nothing, so far. I confess the thing is somewhat of a puzzle.
+changed to: "Nothing, so far. I confess the thing is somewhat of a
+puzzle."
+
+
+Chapter V
+
+...eyes of the two men were tent curiously upon her,
+changed to:  ...eyes of the two men were bent curiously upon her,
+
+Why, sir. Is anything wrong?"
+changed to:  Why, sir? Is anything wrong?"
+
+
+Chapter VI
+
+Dora will bring me some dinner," she said,
+changed to:  Nora will bring me some dinner," she said,
+
+She has become a sort of public character."
+changed to: She has become a sort of public character.
+
+
+Chapter VII
+
+Duvall turned to his companion with a juzzled frown.
+changed to:  Duvall turned to his companion with a puzzled frown.
+
+...his head, far below the sill of this window. nor could anyone...
+changed to: ...his head, far below the sill of this window, nor could
+anyone...
+
+...may have to be here some time, I've got a queer case...
+changed to: ...may have to be here some time. I've got a queer case...
+
+
+Chapter VIII
+
+"Nothing, replied Mrs. Morton.
+changed to:  "Nothing," replied Mrs. Morton.
+
+"This is where Mr. Moore receives his callers:
+changed to:  "This is where Mr. Moore receives his callers.
+
+...at the Grand to-night, It will be your last
+changed to:  ...at the Grand to-night, it will be your last.
+
+"Last night I knew it would be needed to-day."
+changed to:  "Last night. I knew it would be needed to-day."
+
+...when the moment arrived, I gave it to the actor who took it to Miss
+Morton:"
+changed to: ...when the moment arrived, I gave it to the actor who took
+it to Miss Morton."
+
+...Duvall asked Ruth, after they had had started away from the studio.
+changed to: ...Duvall asked Ruth, after they had started away from the
+studio.
+
+
+Chapter IX
+
+With a polite bow he passed no.
+changed to:  With a polite bow he passed on.
+
+
+Chapter X
+
+Duval, after having satisfied himself that...
+changed to:  Duvall, after having satisfied himself that...
+
+The lovely face of Ruth Morton once more greeted the eyes of the
+audience
+changed to: The lovely face of Ruth Morton once more greeted the eyes of
+the audience.
+
+...the water about with the end of a leadpencil until the tablet...
+changed to: ...the water about with the end of a lead pencil until the
+tablet...
+
+
+Chapter XI
+
+...sent him into the drag store in order that she...
+changed to:  ...sent him into the drug store in order that she...
+
+...provided the card is, as I conclude, torn exactly in half.
+changed to: ...provided the card is, as I conclude, torn exactly in
+half."
+
+...begins with 'Mar,' Duvall said. I will put them down on a sheet of
+paper."
+changed to: ...begins with 'Mar,'" Duvall said. "I will put them down on
+a sheet of paper."
+
+It may be that Miss Marcia Ford,...
+changed to:  "It may be that Miss Marcia Ford,...
+
+...extended a half sheet of none-paper toward the detective.
+changed to: ...extended a half sheet of note-paper toward the detective.
+
+...he said, "that it will, be necessary for you to remain...
+changed to: ...he said, "that it will be necessary for you to remain...
+
+Mr. Emmett, who is in charge there, can tell as about Miss Ford."
+changed to: Mr. Emmett, who is in charge there, can tell us about Miss
+Ford."
+
+
+Chapter XII
+
+The thing is utterly incomprehensible."
+changed to:  The thing is utterly incomprehensible.
+
+What's the matter with you.
+changed to:  What's the matter with you?
+
+...in case anyone questioned him about me."
+changed to: ...in case anyone questioned him about me.
+
+She gave him a name and address.
+changed to:  "She gave him a name and address.
+
+
+Chapter XV
+
+"Yes. I came to see you about a matter of importance.
+changed to: "Yes. I came to see you about a matter of importance."
+
+
+Chapter XVI
+
+...been following appeared, wearing a flowered kimona.
+changed to: ...been following appeared, wearing a flowered kimono.
+
+
+Chapter XVII
+
+"Very well Get me a cab.
+changed to:  "Very well. Get me a cab.
+
+He was overjoyed, when it was opened by a man...
+changed to:  He was overjoyed when it was opened by a man...
+
+He doubted his ability to break it in. nor did he wish...
+changed to: He doubted his ability to break it in, nor did he wish...
+
+
+Chapter XIX
+
+"'Is there anything more you want of us?" Miss Norman asked,
+changed to: "Is there anything more you want of us?" Miss Norman asked,
+
+
+Chapter XX
+
+"I am glad to find you almost yourself again.
+changed to:  "I am glad to find you almost yourself again."
+
+
+Chapter XXI
+
+It seems she haunted the studio for several weeks without...
+changed to: "It seems she haunted the studio for several weeks
+without...
+
+...and thus learned by name and address.
+changed to:  and thus learned my name and address.
+
+What better place to hide the ball of wax.
+changed to:  What better place to hide the ball of wax?
+
+Permit me to say, Mrs. Morton, that I...
+changed to:  "Permit me to say, Mrs. Morton, that I...
+
+
+B.M. Bower's Novels
+
+THE RANGE DWELLERS. Spirited action, a range feud be two families, and
+a...
+changed to: THE RANGE DWELLERS. Spirited action, a range feud between
+two families, and a...
+
+
+
+
+
+End of the Project Gutenberg EBook of The Film of Fear, by Arnold Fredericks
+
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+
+The Project Gutenberg EBook of The Film of Fear, by Arnold Fredericks
+
+This eBook is for the use of anyone anywhere at no cost and with
+almost no restrictions whatsoever.  You may copy it, give it away or
+re-use it under the terms of the Project Gutenberg License included
+with this eBook or online at www.gutenberg.org
+
+
+Title: The Film of Fear
+
+Author: Arnold Fredericks
+
+Illustrator: Will Foster
+
+Release Date: July 23, 2009 [EBook #29498]
+
+Language: English
+
+Character set encoding: ISO-8859-1
+
+*** START OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK THE FILM OF FEAR ***
+
+
+
+
+Produced by Cindy Horton, Suzanne Shell and the Online
+Distributed Proofreading Team at https://www.pgdp.net (This
+file was produced from images generously made available
+by The Internet Archive/American Libraries.)
+
+
+
+
+
+
+</pre>
+
+
+
+<div>
+<br />
+<br />
+</div>
+<div class="figcenter" style="width: 393px;">
+<img src="images/cover-600h.jpg" width="393" height="600" alt="The Film of Fear by Arnold Fredericks (cover)" />
+</div>
+<div><h1>THE</h1>
+<h1>FILM OF FEAR</h1>
+<br />
+<br />
+<h4>BY</h4>
+<h2>ARNOLD FREDERICKS</h2>
+<br />
+<br />
+<h4>AUTHOR OF</h4>
+<h4>THE IVORY SNUFF BOX, <span class="smcap">Etc.</span></h4>
+<br />
+<br />
+<br />
+<h4>WITH FRONTISPIECE BY</h4>
+<h3>WILL FOSTER</h3>
+<br />
+<br />
+<br />
+<h4>NEW YORK</h4>
+<h2>GROSSET &amp; DUNLAP</h2>
+<h4>PUBLISHERS</h4>
+<br />
+<br />
+<p class="center smcap">Copyright, 1917, by</p>
+<h6>W. J. WATT &amp; COMPANY</h6>
+</div>
+<div>
+<br />
+<br />
+<br />
+</div>
+<div>
+<h2><a name="THE_FILM_OF_FEAR" id="THE_FILM_OF_FEAR"></a>THE FILM OF FEAR</h2>
+</div>
+<div class="center">
+<table border="0" cellpadding="1" cellspacing="1" width="60%" summary="Table of Contents">
+<colgroup>
+<col width="60%" />
+<col width="40%" />
+</colgroup>
+  <tr>
+  <td class="tdlsc"><a href="#PART_I"><b>Part I</b></a></td>
+  <td class="tdlsc"><a href="#PART_III"><b>Part III</b></a></td>
+  </tr>
+<tr>
+<td class="tdlsc"><span style="margin-left: 2em;"><a href="#CHAPTER_I"><b>Chapter I</b></a></span></td>
+<td class="tdlsc"><span style="margin-left: 2em;"><a href="#CHAPTER_XII"><b>Chapter XII</b></a></span></td>
+</tr>
+<tr>
+<td class="tdlsc"><span style="margin-left: 2em;"><a href="#CHAPTER_II"><b>Chapter II</b></a></span></td>
+<td class="tdlsc"><span style="margin-left: 2em;"><a href="#CHAPTER_XIII"><b>Chapter XIII</b></a></span></td>
+</tr>
+<tr>
+<td class="tdlsc"><span style="margin-left: 2em;"><a href="#CHAPTER_III"><b>Chapter III</b></a></span></td>
+<td class="tdlsc"><span style="margin-left: 2em;"><a href="#CHAPTER_XIV"><b>Chapter XIV</b></a></span></td>
+</tr>
+<tr>
+<td class="tdlsc"><span style="margin-left: 2em;"><a href="#CHAPTER_IV"><b>Chapter IV</b></a></span></td>
+<td class="tdlsc"><span style="margin-left: 2em;"><a href="#CHAPTER_XV"><b>Chapter XV</b></a></span></td>
+</tr>
+<tr>
+<td class="tdlsc"><span style="margin-left: 2em;"><a href="#CHAPTER_V"><b>Chapter V</b></a></span></td>
+<td class="tdlsc"><span style="margin-left: 2em;"><a href="#CHAPTER_XVI"><b>Chapter XVI</b></a></span></td>
+</tr>
+<tr>
+<td class="tdlsc"><span style="margin-left: 2em;"><a href="#CHAPTER_VI"><b>Chapter VI</b></a></span></td>
+<td class="tdlsc"></td>
+</tr>
+<tr>
+<td class="tdlsc"><a href="#PART_II"><b>Part II</b></a></td>
+<td class="tdlsc"><a href="#PART_IV"><b>Part IV</b></a></td>
+</tr>
+<tr>
+<td class="tdlsc"><span style="margin-left: 2em;"><a href="#CHAPTER_VII"><b>Chapter VII</b></a></span></td>
+<td class="tdlsc"><span style="margin-left: 2em;"><a href="#CHAPTER_XVII"><b>Chapter XVII</b></a></span></td>
+</tr>
+<tr>
+<td class="tdlsc"><span style="margin-left: 2em;"><a href="#CHAPTER_VIII"><b>Chapter VIII</b></a></span></td>
+<td class="tdlsc"><span style="margin-left: 2em;"><a href="#CHAPTER_XVIII"><b>Chapter XVIII</b></a></span></td>
+</tr>
+<tr>
+<td class="tdlsc"><span style="margin-left: 2em;"><a href="#CHAPTER_IX"><b>Chapter IX</b></a></span></td>
+<td class="tdlsc"><span style="margin-left: 2em;"><a href="#CHAPTER_XIX"><b>Chapter XIX</b></a></span></td>
+</tr>
+<tr>
+<td class="tdlsc"><span style="margin-left: 2em;"><a href="#CHAPTER_X"><b>Chapter X</b></a></span></td>
+<td class="tdlsc"><span style="margin-left: 2em;"><a href="#CHAPTER_XX"><b>Chapter XX</b></a></span></td>
+</tr>
+<tr>
+<td class="tdlsc"><span style="margin-left: 2em;"><a href="#CHAPTER_XI"><b>Chapter XI</b></a></span></td>
+<td class="tdlsc"><span style="margin-left: 2em;"><a href="#CHAPTER_XXI"><b>Chapter XXI</b></a></span></td>
+</tr>
+</table>
+</div>
+<p><br /></p>
+<div class="center">
+<table border="0" cellpadding="1" cellspacing="1" width="70%" summary="Advertising Pages Contents">
+<colgroup>
+<col width="65%" />
+<col width="35%" />
+</colgroup>
+<tr>
+<td class="tdlsc"><a href="#THE_NOVELS_OF"><b>The Novels Of Mary Roberts Rinehart</b></a></td>
+<td class="tdlsc"><a href="#B_M_BOWERS_NOVELS"><b>B. M. Bower's Novels</b></a></td>
+</tr>
+</table>
+</div>
+<p><br /></p>
+<p><br /></p>
+<div>
+<h2><a name="PART_I" id="PART_I"></a>PART I</h2>
+<h2><a name="CHAPTER_I" id="CHAPTER_I"></a>CHAPTER I</h2>
+<p>Ruth Morton finished her cup of coffee, brushed a microscopic crumb from
+her embroidered silk kimono, pushed back her loosely arranged brown
+hair, and resumed the task of opening her mail.</p>
+
+<p>It was in truth a task, and one that consumed an inordinate amount of
+her valuable time. And her time was extremely valuable. Computed upon
+the basis of her weekly salary of one thousand dollars, it figured out
+just $142.85 per day, or very nearly $6 per hour, or 10 cents per
+minute, for each minute and hour of the twenty-four. As a motion picture
+star, she had the satisfaction of knowing that she was paid a slightly
+larger salary than had been, until recently, received by the President
+of the United States.</p>
+
+<p>The opening of the huge batch of letters that greeted her daily across
+her dainty breakfast table was very much of a duty. It was not that she
+felt any keen interest in the numberless notes from admirers, both male
+and female, from Portland, Me., to Los Angeles, Cal., to say nothing of
+South Bend, Opeloosa and Kicking Horse between. These might readily have
+been consigned to the depths of the wastebasket unopened, unread. But
+there was always the chance that, intermingled with this mass of
+adulation, there might be a real letter, from a real friend, or a
+business communication of importance from some picture company possibly,
+prepared to offer her two thousand dollars per week, instead of one
+thousand, at the expiration of her present contract. So the mail had to
+be carefully opened, at least, even if the bulk of it was tossed aside
+unread.</p>
+
+<p>Her mother usually assisted her in this daily task, but to-day Mrs.
+Morton, oppressed by a slight attack of indigestion, slept late, and
+Ruth proceeded with the operation alone.</p>
+
+<p>She was a singularly attractive girl, combining a wholesome and quite
+unassumed innocence with a certain measure of sophistication, gained by
+daily contact with the free and easy life of the studios. Her brown eyes
+were large and wondering, as though she still found it difficult to
+realize that within four years she had stepped from comparative poverty
+to the possession of an income which a duke or a prince might readily
+have envied. Her features, pleasing, regular, somewhat large, gave to
+her that particular type of beauty which lends itself best to the
+eccentricities of the camera. Her figure, graceful, well modeled, with
+the soft roundness of youth, enabled her to wear with becoming grace
+almost any costume, from the simple frock of the school girl to the
+costly gowns of the woman of fashion. Add to this a keen intelligence
+and a delightful vivacity of manner, and the reason for Ruth Morton's
+popularity among motion picture "fans" from coast to coast was at once
+apparent.</p>
+
+<p>She sat in the handsomely appointed dining-room of the apartment on
+Fifty-seventh Street which she and her mother had occupied for the past
+two years. The room, paneled in dull ivory, provided a perfect setting
+for the girl's unusual beauty. In her kimono of Nile green and gold, she
+presented a figure of such compelling charm that Nora, her maid, as she
+removed the empty coffee-cup, sighed to herself, if not with envy, at
+least with regret, that the good God had not made <i>her</i> along lines that
+would insure an income of over fifty thousand dollars a year.</p>
+
+<p>Ruth sliced open half a dozen more letters with her ivory paper knife
+and prepared to drop them into the waste basket. One was from a
+manufacturer of cold cream, soliciting a testimonial. Two others were
+from ungrammatical school girls, asking her how they should proceed, in
+order to become motion picture stars. Another was an advertisement of a
+new automobile. The fifth requested an autographed picture of herself.
+She swept the five over the edge of the table with a sigh of relief. How
+stupid of all these people, she thought, to take up their time, and her
+own, so uselessly.</p>
+
+<p>The sixth letter, from its external appearance, might readily have been
+of no greater interest than the other five, and yet, something
+intangible about it caused her to pause for a moment before inserting
+the point of the knife beneath the flap of the envelope. It was a large
+envelope, square, formal-looking. The address upon it was typewritten.
+Unlike the majority of the other letters, forwarded from the studio, it
+bore the street and number of the apartment house in which she lived.
+The envelope was postmarked New York, and was sealed with a splotch of
+black sealing wax, which, however, contained the imprint of no monogram
+or seal, but was crossed both vertically and horizontally by a series of
+fine parallel lines, dividing its surface into minute squares.</p>
+
+<p>Ruth observed these several peculiarities of the letter she was about to
+open, with growing interest. The usual run of her correspondence was so
+dull and uninteresting that anything out of the ordinary was apt to
+attract her attention. Slipping the ivory blade of the paper knife
+quickly beneath the flap of the envelope, she cut it open.</p>
+
+<p>The letter within, written on the same heavy paper as that composing the
+envelope, contained but three typewritten lines. It was not these,
+however, that instantly attracted Ruth's attention, but the signature
+appended to them. This signature did not consist of a name, but of an
+astonishing seal, imprinted upon a bit of the same black sealing wax
+with which the envelope had been fastened. And the device, as Ruth bent
+over it to make out its clearcut but rather fine lines, filled her with
+a sudden and overwhelming dismay.</p>
+
+<p>It was a grinning death's head, about half an inch in width, with
+eye-sockets staring vacantly, and grisly mouth gaping in a wide and
+horrible smile, made the more horrible by the two rows of protruding
+teeth. The girl almost dropped the letter, as full realization of the
+significance of the design swept over her.</p>
+
+<p>Hastily she recovered herself, and with trembling fingers raised the
+letter from her lap. The three typewritten lines upon the sheet were, if
+anything, more horrifying than the device beneath them. "Your beauty has
+made you rich and famous," the letter read. "Without it you could do
+nothing. Within thirty days it shall be destroyed, and you will be
+hideous."</p>
+
+<p>For a long time Ruth sat gazing at the words before her. In spite of
+their ghastly significance she could with difficulty bring herself to
+believe that she had an enemy in the world sufficiently ruthless,
+sufficiently envious of her beauty and her success, to be capable of
+either threatening her in this brutal way, or of carrying such a threat
+into execution. So far as she knew, there was not a single person of all
+her acquaintance who wished her ill. Her own nature was too sweet, too
+sympathetic, too free from malice and bitterness, to conceive for a
+moment that the very charms which had brought her fame, success, might
+also be the means of bringing her envy and hatred in like proportion.
+She cast about in her mind for some possible, some reasonable
+explanation of the matter, but try as she would, she was unable to think
+of anyone with whom she had ever come in contact, capable of threatening
+her in this terrible way. She had about decided that the whole thing
+must be some stupidly conceived practical joke, when she saw her mother
+cross the hall and come into the room.</p>
+
+<p>Mrs. Harriet Morton was a woman of fifty, handsome and youthful in spite
+of her gray hair, her years. That she had once been extremely
+good-looking could have been told at a glance; anyone seeing mother and
+daughter together experienced no difficulty in determining the source of
+Ruth Morton's charms.</p>
+
+<p>"Well, dear," said the older woman, with a pleasant smile. "Haven't you
+finished your letters yet?" She glanced toward the clock on the mantel.
+"You'll have to leave for the studio in half an hour." Ruth nodded,
+gazing at her mother rather uneasily.</p>
+
+<p>"You'll have to open the rest of them, mother," she said, indicating the
+pile of letters. "I&mdash;I'm tired."</p>
+
+<p>Mrs. Morton came up to her daughter and passed her hand over the girl's
+glossy hair.</p>
+
+<p>"What's wrong, Ruth? You look as though something had frightened you."
+Then her eyes fell upon the letter lying in the girl's lap, and she
+paused suddenly.</p>
+
+<p>Ruth handed her mother the sheet of paper.</p>
+
+<p>"I&mdash;I just got this," she said, simply.</p>
+
+<p>Mrs. Morton took the letter quickly from her daughter's hand and
+proceeded to read it. A look of apprehension crept into her eyes, but
+she did her best to appear unconcerned.</p>
+
+<p>"Some crank," she said, after she had mastered the sudden fear that
+swept over her. "I shouldn't pay any attention to it, if I were you, my
+dear. There are a lot of people in the world that have nothing better to
+do, than play silly jokes like that."</p>
+
+<p>"Then you don't think it amounts to anything?" Ruth asked, somewhat
+relieved.</p>
+
+<p>"Certainly not. Just a stupid plan to frighten you. Pay no attention to
+it. No"&mdash;she folded the letter as the girl put out her hand&mdash;"I'll take
+charge of this. Now you'd better hurry and get ready. The car will be
+waiting for you at nine, and Mr. Edwards expects to start that new
+picture to-day, doesn't he?"</p>
+
+<p>"Yes." The girl rose. "It's a beautiful part. I'm the daughter of an old
+music teacher, who dies in Brooklyn, and leaves me in poverty. And later
+on, it turns out he was the heir to the throne of Moravia, and I'm a
+princess. Lots of adventures, and spies, and all that. Ralph Turner is
+the lover. He's awfully good-looking, don't you think?"</p>
+
+<p>Mrs. Morton assented in rather a preoccupied way, as her daughter left
+the room. She was still thinking of the brutal threat which the girl had
+just received, and of the possible dangers to which she might as a
+result be exposed. Mrs. Morton by no means felt the matter to be a joke,
+in spite of the assurances she had given Ruth. The tone of the letter,
+the evident care which had been taken to prevent the identity of the
+writer from becoming known, filled her with the gravest alarm.</p>
+
+<p>As she sat pondering the matter, Nora came into the room, with Ruth's
+dust coat and parasol in her hands. Mrs. Morton beckoned to the girl,
+then spoke to her in a low voice.</p>
+
+<p>"Nora," she said, "Miss Ruth received a letter this morning, from
+somebody who is envious of her beauty and success. I pretended to make
+light of the matter, but there may be something back of it. I want you
+to watch her carefully while you are away from the house. Be on your
+guard every moment of the time. Don't let anyone come near her. They
+might try to throw acid, or something of the sort. I shan't feel safe
+until she is home again."</p>
+
+<p>The maid's face lit up with a significant smile. From her manner it was
+clear that she fairly worshiped her young mistress.</p>
+
+<p>"I'll not let anyone do her any harm, Mrs. Morton," she said, earnestly.
+"You may be sure of that."</p>
+
+<p>"And don't let her know," Mrs. Morton added hastily, in a low voice, as
+she saw Ruth come to the door, "that I am at all worried. She must not
+have a threat like that on her mind."</p>
+
+<p>The maid nodded, then turned toward the door where Ruth stood.</p>
+
+<p>"Well, mother, good-by," the latter exclaimed with a laugh. "You can
+open all the rest of the letters, and if you come across any more like
+that last one, please keep them. I think I'll begin a collection."</p>
+
+<p>Mrs. Morton forced herself to join in the girl's laughter.</p>
+
+<p>"There won't be any more, dear," she said, kissing the girl fondly.
+"Don't bother your head about such things. They're not worth it. And
+come home as soon as you get through."</p>
+
+<p>"All right, mother. We're going to the theater to-night, aren't we?
+Don't forget to get the tickets." With a smile she left the room, and a
+few moments later Mrs. Morton heard the rumble of the descending
+elevator.</p>
+
+<p>She sat in silence for a long time, thinking, a great fear clutching at
+her heart. Her life, she reflected, had held, until recently, but little
+of happiness. The long, weary days of poverty, when her husband,
+incapacitated by a paralytic stroke, had seen his savings slowly dwindle
+away; the death of her son, and then that of Mr. Morton himself passed
+before her mental vision. Only Ruth had been left to her, and in the
+girl's happiness and success lay Mrs. Morton's whole life and being.
+Now, that things had at last taken a turn, and the future seemed clear
+and assured ahead of her, was some dreadful tragedy to change all her
+joy to sorrow? She turned to the pile of still unopened letters with a
+sigh, afraid, almost to proceed with the task of reading them. Yet, an
+hour later, when they had all been disposed of without further threats
+against Ruth having been discovered, she breathed more easily. Perhaps,
+after all, the horrible letter was merely a silly joke. She took it out
+and examined it again with the greatest care, but no clue to the
+identity of the writer rewarded her scrutiny. The message remained
+clear, terrible, full of sinister meaning. "<i>Within thirty days it shall
+be destroyed, and you will be hideous!</i>" The grinning death's head seal
+stared up at her, fascinatingly horrible. Mrs. Morton quickly placed the
+letter in her bosom.</p>
+
+<p>Rising, she left the room, and proceeded to that occupied by Ruth. It
+pleased her, notwithstanding the servants, to take care of it herself.
+Mrs. Morton was passionately devoted to her beautiful daughter. In her,
+the sun rose and set.</p>
+
+<p>She glanced about the daintily furnished room with a smile. The
+appointments were simple, almost girlish, in spite of their owner's
+large salary. Mrs. Morton began to set the room to rights. She had
+finished making the bed, and had gone over to the dressing table to
+arrange the articles upon it, when a square of white upon the floor
+attracted her attention.</p>
+
+<p>It lay upon the rug in front of the dressing table, and appeared to be a
+letter of some sort.</p>
+
+<p>Supposing it to be something that the girl had dropped in the hurry of
+leaving, Mrs. Morton stooped and picked it up. Then a queer feeling of
+dismay came over her. The large square white envelope, the typewritten
+address, bore a singular and disquieting resemblance to the one in which
+the threatening letter had been received so short a time before.</p>
+
+<p>With trembling hands, Mrs. Morton tore the envelope open and removed the
+folded sheet of paper within. When her eyes fell upon the contents of
+the latter, she shuddered, and stood white with fear.</p>
+
+<p>There was a message in typewritten characters upon the sheet, and Mrs.
+Morton read it with a groan of despair.</p>
+
+<p>"<i>Only twenty-nine days more!</i>" the message said. "We shall not fail."
+Below the words grinned the frightful death's head seal.</p>
+
+<br />
+
+<h2><a name="CHAPTER_II" id="CHAPTER_II"></a>CHAPTER II</h2>
+
+
+<p>Mrs. Harriet Morton was a courageous woman, but when she read the second
+threat against her daughter, she was filled with instant indignation and
+horror. The thing was so appallingly mysterious, so utterly without
+reasonable explanation.</p>
+
+<p>Ruth had left the room but a few moments before. Certainly the letter
+was not upon the floor then. The maid, Nora, had gone with her. That
+removed her from any suspicion, even had such a thought been reasonable
+or possible, and Mrs. Morton felt it was not. The only other person in
+the apartment was Mary, their old cook, a negro from the south, who had
+been a faithful and patient member of the Morton household for over ten
+years. That she could have had a hand in placing this mysterious message
+in Ruth's bedroom seemed incredible, not to be entertained for a moment.
+And yet, there was the message, appallingly simple, direct, threatening.
+"<i>Only twenty-nine days more!</i>" Mrs. Morton shuddered.</p>
+
+<p>She glanced about the room. How had the letter come there? Certainly not
+by means of the door. Yet it seemed equally out of the question that it
+could have been brought in through one of the windows.</p>
+
+<p>There were two in the room, one facing to the front, and opening upon a
+court, the other in the rear, overlooking the yards of the houses on the
+next street. She went to the front window, which was raised only a few
+inches, and gazed out.</p>
+
+<p>Below her stretched the wide court, flanked on one hand by the side of
+the apartment building, on the other by the blank wall of an adjoining
+house. The latter was some ten feet from where she stood, and <i>there
+were no windows in it</i>! She turned to the window at the other side of
+the room.</p>
+
+<p>Here a fire escape led down to an alley at the rear of the building.
+Could it have been in this way that the letter had been delivered? The
+thing seemed impossible. Not only was the window closed, but she knew
+that the ladders did not reach all the way to the ground, the last
+section being pulled up, to be dropped only in case of fire. With a
+mystified look she returned to the center of the room.</p>
+
+<p>The letter grinned at her from the dresser, on which she had left it.
+Ruth must never hear of the matter, she knew. Taking it up, she placed
+it in the bosom of her dress along with the one which had arrived
+earlier in the day. Then she sat down to decide what she had best do
+next.</p>
+
+<p>To trifle with so dangerous a situation was no longer to be thought of.
+One message, the first, might have been a foolish joke. The second
+proved that the danger threatening her daughter was real, imminent.</p>
+
+<p>At first she thought of placing the matter in the hands of the postal
+authorities, but would they, she wondered, concern themselves with
+threats delivered in other ways than by mail? This second message had
+not come through any such channels. In desperation she put on her hat,
+placed the two letters in her handbag and set out to seek the advice of
+one of her oldest and best friends.</p>
+
+<p>Her purpose took her to a private banking house in Broad Street, upon
+the wide entrance doors of which was inscribed the name John Stapleton &amp;
+Co. She asked to see Mr. Stapleton. John Stapleton was a man of wealth
+and influence in the financial world, and Mrs. Morton's husband had at
+one time been one of his most trusted employees. Now that Ruth had
+become to some extent a capitalist, it was to Mr. Stapleton that the
+care of her savings had been entrusted. Mrs. Morton felt the utmost
+confidence in both his sincerity and his judgment.</p>
+
+<p>Mr. Stapleton received her almost at once, in his simply yet richly
+furnished private office, and rising from his huge flat-topped rosewood
+desk, welcomed her warmly, and asked what he could do for her.</p>
+
+<p>Mrs. Morton felt confused. Her mission seemed, after all, a strange one
+with which to come to a leader of finance.</p>
+
+<p>"I&mdash;I am in great trouble, Mr. Stapleton," she began.</p>
+
+<p>"Yes?" He took her hand in his and led her to a chair. "Tell me all
+about it."</p>
+
+<p>Mrs. Morton explained the circumstances surrounding the receiving of the
+two letters in detail, and then handed the documents to Mr. Stapleton.</p>
+
+<p>"Do you think I had better place the matter in the hands of the postal
+authorities?" she said. Mr. Stapleton examined the two letters carefully
+then he shook his head.</p>
+
+<p>"No. At least not at present. It seems to me that your daughter may be
+in grave danger, and under those circumstances, I think your wisest
+course would be to employ a private detective, an investigator of
+matters of this character, not only to ferret out those who are
+responsible for these threats, but to take steps to protect your
+daughter from harm."</p>
+
+<p>"You think, then, that she is really in danger?" Mrs. Morton gasped.</p>
+
+<p>"I do not wish to alarm you, but I very much fear that she is."</p>
+
+<p>"But I don't know any private detectives," Mrs. Morton began.</p>
+
+<p>Stapleton looked up from the letter.</p>
+
+<p>"When I spoke," he said, "I had a certain man in mind. He is not a
+detective, in the usual sense of the word. You can find plenty of those,
+of course, but, while they are useful enough in the detection of
+criminals of the ordinary sort, they would probably have very little
+success in an affair such as this. The man I had in mind is a brilliant
+criminal investigator, one whose services I have more than once been
+obliged to make use of in matters of a personal nature. Some two years
+ago, for instance, my child was kidnapped, in Paris, and held for
+ransom. The entire police force of the French capital seemed powerless
+to discover his whereabouts. At last I called in Richard Duvall, and
+within a few days my boy was returned to me, and the criminals who had
+abducted him placed under arrest. It was a marvellous, a brilliant piece
+of work. I am not likely to forget very soon the mystery of the changing
+lights." He paused, and Mrs. Morton spoke up eagerly.</p>
+
+<p>"Give me Mr. Duvall's address," she said, "and I will see him at once."</p>
+
+<p>"That," Mr. Stapleton smiled, "is, of course, the great difficulty.
+Duvall, who is married, lives with his wife on their farm near
+Washington. They both have plenty of money, and he has practically
+retired from professional work."</p>
+
+<p>"Then of what use is it to suggest his name?" asked Mrs. Morton,
+quickly.</p>
+
+<p>"He had already retired," Stapleton rejoined, "at the time of my boy's
+kidnapping, but I prevailed on him to take up the case. His retirement
+merely means that he is not in the active practice of his profession.
+But exceptional cases, cases which by reason of their novelty interest
+him, he may be persuaded to undertake. I fancy this matter of your
+daughter's would prove attractive to him. It is unusual&mdash;bizarre. I
+strongly advise you to see him."</p>
+
+<p>"To do that, I must go to Washington?"</p>
+
+<p>"Yes. I will give you a letter which will insure you an interview, and,
+I hope, enlist his services in your behalf." He pressed a button on his
+desk, summoning a stenographer. "I sincerely hope that you will be
+successful."</p>
+
+<p>Mrs. Morton sat in silence while the letter of introduction to Richard
+Duvall was being written. Then she rose to go.</p>
+
+<p>"I will leave for Washington this afternoon," she announced. "I feel
+that there is no time to waste."</p>
+
+<p>"You are quite right. And be sure to tell Mr. Duvall that you are a
+close personal friend of mine, and that anything he can do for you I
+shall appreciate to the utmost."</p>
+
+<p>Mrs. Morton went back to the apartment, and made her preparations to
+start. She determined to take a train leaving at half past three, and as
+Ruth would not return from the studio until later, she called her up on
+the telephone, and told her of her sudden determination.</p>
+
+<p>"It is a matter of business, dear," she explained. "I will be back
+to-morrow. Good-by." The girl's cheerful voice reassured her. At least
+nothing had happened up to now, to give cause for alarm.</p>
+
+<p>It was only when Mrs. Morton was about to leave for the train that her
+nerves were once more subjected to a severe shock.</p>
+
+<p>The telephone bell rang, and she went to answer it, thinking that Ruth
+might for some reason have called her up.</p>
+
+<p>Over the wire came a thin, queer voice.</p>
+
+<p>"Beauty is only skin deep," it said. "A breath may destroy it." After
+that, silence.</p>
+
+<p>Mrs. Morton made a frantic effort to learn the number of the station
+from which she had been called, but without success. In a rather
+depressed state of mind, she made her way to the train.</p>
+
+<p>It was half past eight at night when she arrived in Washington, and she
+at once called up Richard Duvall on the telephone.</p>
+
+<p>To her disappointment, she learned that he was out, and was not expected
+back until late. There was nothing to do but wait until morning. She
+retired to her room, full of hope that the following day would bring an
+end to her fears.</p>
+
+<p>Immediately after breakfast she called again, and this time was more
+successful. Duvall himself answered the telephone.</p>
+
+<p>"I am Mrs. Morton, from New York," she said, eagerly. "I would like to
+come out and see you."</p>
+
+<p>"What do you wish to see me about?" the detective inquired.</p>
+
+<p>"It is a personal matter. I will explain when I arrive. I prefer not to
+do so over the telephone. I have a letter to you from Mr. Stapleton."</p>
+
+<p>"Mr. John Stapleton, the banker?"</p>
+
+<p>"Yes."</p>
+
+<p>"Come, then, by all means, at any hour that suits you. Mr. Stapleton is
+one of my best friends."</p>
+
+<p>Mrs. Morton hung up the receiver, after assuring him that she would
+start at once. Then she went out and engaging an automobile, set out for
+Duvall's place.</p>
+
+<br />
+
+<h2><a name="CHAPTER_III" id="CHAPTER_III"></a>CHAPTER III</h2>
+
+
+<p>Richard Duvall and his wife, Grace, lingered rather later than usual
+over their breakfast that morning.</p>
+
+<p>It was a warm and brilliant day in May, and the blossoming beauty of the
+spring filled them both with a delightful sense of well-being.</p>
+
+<p>Duvall, however, seemed a trifle restless, and Grace observed it.</p>
+
+<p>"What's the matter, Richard?" she asked.</p>
+
+<p>"Oh, nothing." Her husband picked up the morning paper. "They are still
+looking for the woman in that Marsden case, I see," he remarked.</p>
+
+<p>"Do you know, my dear," Grace said, "I sometimes think that you made a
+mistake in coming down here to the country to live. Your heart is really
+in New York, and every time there is a murder case, or a bank robbery,
+or a kidnapping up there, you are restless as a hen on a hot griddle
+until the mystery is solved. Why don't you take up your professional
+work again?" Duvall laid down his paper and regarded his wife with a
+look of surprise.</p>
+
+<p>"Because, Grace," he said, "you especially asked me, after that affair
+of the missing suffragette, to finally give up my detective work and
+content myself with a quiet existence here on the farm. You said, on
+account of the boy, that I ought not to take such risks."</p>
+
+<p>"Well&mdash;suppose I did. You agreed with me, didn't you?"</p>
+
+<p>"Yes&mdash;I guess so." Duvall once more picked up the newspaper. "But,
+naturally, I can't help feeling a certain interest in any striking and
+novel case that I may read about."</p>
+
+<p>"And I haven't a doubt," laughed Grace, "that you wish that you were
+back in harness again a dozen times a day. Come now&mdash;'fess up. Don't
+you?"</p>
+
+<p>"Sometimes," granted her husband, with a smile. "You know I loved my
+work. It always seemed to take me out of the dull routine of existence,
+and give me a new feeling of interest. I shouldn't mind if I had a novel
+and interesting case to work on right now."</p>
+
+<p>"Would you take one, if it were offered to <a name="toyou" id="toyou"></a>you?" asked Grace quickly.</p>
+
+<p>"No&mdash;I guess not. I haven't forgotten my promise."</p>
+
+<p>"Well&mdash;I've decided to release you from that, Richard. I really think
+you need a little mental exercise and diversion. All play and no work,
+you know&mdash;&mdash;" She began to arrange the dogwood blossoms she had gathered
+before breakfast, in a big vase on the table.</p>
+
+<p>Duvall laughed.</p>
+
+<p>"I'm getting along very well," he said. "Don't forget I'm expecting to
+have that corner lot planted in potatoes to-day." He rose, and coming
+over to his wife, playfully pinched her cheek. "What's the matter,
+dear?" he asked. "Are you pining for a little trip to New York yourself?
+We don't need a murder mystery to make that possible, you know."</p>
+
+<p>Grace shook her head. As she did so, the telephone bell in the hall
+began to ring. "That may be your murder mystery now," she said, with a
+laugh.</p>
+
+<p>"More likely the Clarks asking us over to dinner this evening," he
+returned, as he made his way into the hall.</p>
+
+<p>Grace continued to arrange her flowers. Presently Duvall re-entered the
+room. There was a curious smile upon his face. "Well," Grace remarked,
+glancing up. "Which was it? The murder case, or the Clarks?"</p>
+
+<p>"Neither. A mysterious woman, this time, saying that she must see me at
+once. I told her to come on out."</p>
+
+<p>"Ah! This <i>is</i> serious," his wife laughed. "A mysterious woman! I
+suppose I ought to be jealous. Didn't she say what she wanted with you?"</p>
+
+<p>"No. But we'll know soon enough. She'll be here at half past nine.
+Suppose we go and take a look at those Airedale pups." Together they
+crossed the veranda and made their way toward the barn.</p>
+
+<p>Richard Duvall had changed but little since the days when he had served
+on the staff of Monsieur Lefevre, the Prefect of Police of Paris, and
+had taken part in the stirring adventures of the Million Francs, the
+Ivory Snuff Box and the Changing Lights. The same delightful spirit of
+<i>camaraderie</i> existed between his wife, Grace, and himself, a spirit
+which had enabled them, together, to solve some of the most exciting
+mysteries in the annals of the French detective service. It had been
+nearly two years, now, since the affair of the Mysterious Goddess, the
+last case in which Duvall had been concerned, and he was beginning to
+feel that he would welcome with outstretched arms a chance to make use
+once more of his exceptional talents as an investigator of crime. Hence
+he had received Mrs. Morton's telephone call with more than ordinary
+interest.</p>
+
+<p>The latter had told him nothing of her reasons for interviewing him,
+contenting herself with the bare statement that she had a letter to him
+from Mr. Stapleton. This, however, had been enough to set Duvall's
+nerves to tingling and to cause him to conclude that the mysterious
+woman who desired to interview him in such a hurry came on no ordinary
+business. Hence he waited with some impatience for the arrival of half
+past nine.</p>
+
+<p>A few moments after the half hour, a large automobile swept up the
+drive, and Duvall, with a nod to his wife, went back to the house to
+receive his guest. She was waiting in the library when he entered.</p>
+
+<p>"I am Mrs. Morton, of New York," his caller began, handing him Mr.
+Stapleton's letter.</p>
+
+<p>Duvall read it, but it told him little.</p>
+
+<p>"Mr. Stapleton informs me," he said, looking at his visitor, "that you
+are in some difficulty or other, and asks that, if I can possibly do so,
+I try to help you out of it. Did he not also say that I have for some
+time past given up the active practice of my profession?"</p>
+
+<p>Mrs. Morton nodded, then bent eagerly forward.</p>
+
+<p>"Yes, Mr. Duvall. He told me that. But he also said that, when you heard
+the circumstances, you might be persuaded to assist me. I am in very
+deep trouble, and I fear that there is not a moment to be lost."</p>
+
+<p>"What is the nature of your difficulty, madam?" Duvall asked.</p>
+
+<p>"It&mdash;it concerns my daughter. I am the mother of Ruth Morton." She made
+this announcement as though she fully expected Duvall to realize its
+significance at once, but the latter's face remained quite blank.</p>
+
+<p>"Yes?" he replied, vaguely. "And who is Ruth Morton?"</p>
+
+<p>Mrs. Morton looked at him in pained surprise. The thought that anyone
+could possibly be ignorant of her daughter's fame and success seemed
+unbelievable to her. Was not Ruth's name a household word among moving
+picture "fans" from coast to coast? "Why&mdash;Ruth Morton&mdash;the motion
+picture star," she replied. "Surely you must have heard of her."</p>
+
+<p>Duvall smiled, but shook his head.</p>
+
+<p>"I never go to motion pictures," he said. "But that is of no importance.
+What has happened to your daughter?"</p>
+
+<p>"Nothing. At least I hope not&mdash;yet. It is what <i>may</i> happen to her that
+frightens me so." She took the two threatening letters from her handbag
+and gave them to the detective. "These came yesterday," she said,
+simply.</p>
+
+<p>Duvall took the letters, and proceeded to read them with the utmost
+care. When he looked up, his eyes were sparkling with interest.</p>
+
+<p>"The first letter, I observe," he said, "was mailed night before last,
+at half-past six, at the general post office. How was the other letter
+delivered?"</p>
+
+<p>"I do not know. I found it, yesterday forenoon, upon the floor in my
+daughter's bedroom, an hour or more after she had left the house. She
+has not seen it. I kept all news of it from her, as I did not wish her
+to be frightened."</p>
+
+<p>"That was wise, of course," Duvall said. "But how could the letter
+possibly have been placed where you found it, without your knowledge?
+Who, beside yourself, was in the apartment at the time?"</p>
+
+<p>"No <a name="one" id="one"></a>one but an old negro cook, who has been with me for years. I am
+quite certain that she had nothing to do with it."</p>
+
+<p>"And the maid of whom you speak?"</p>
+
+<p>"She had left my daughter's room, and come into the dining room, where I
+was sitting, before Ruth left the bedroom. They went out together. The
+note could not have been in the bedroom then, or my daughter would
+certainly have seen it. The thing seems almost uncanny."</p>
+
+<p>Duvall began to stroke his chin, a habit with him when he was more than
+usually perplexed. Presently he spoke.</p>
+
+<p>"One thing I have learned, Mrs. Morton, after many years spent in
+detective work. There is no circumstance, however mystifying it may at
+first appear, which is not susceptible of some reasonable and often very
+commonplace explanation. You find this letter on the floor in your
+daughter's bedroom. It was placed there, either by someone within the
+apartment, or by someone from without. Now you tell me that it could not
+have been placed from within. Then I can only say that someone must have
+entered the room, or at least managed to place the letter in the room,
+from outside."</p>
+
+<p>"That may be true, Mr. Duvall," remarked Mrs. Morton, quietly, "but when
+you consider that our apartment is on the fourth floor, that one of the
+windows of the room was closed, and the other only open a few inches,
+and that the blank wall of the opposite house is at least ten feet away,
+I fail to see how what you suggest is possible."</p>
+
+<p>Her words filled Duvall with surprise. If what his caller said was true,
+the case might have elements which would make it more than usually
+interesting.</p>
+
+<p>"Has your daughter any enemy, who might envy her her success, and wish
+to deprive her of it?" he asked.</p>
+
+<p>"None, that I know of. But since these two letters came, I feel
+convinced that someone, whom, I cannot imagine, <i>does</i> feel that way
+toward her, and that on account of it she is in the gravest danger.
+Don't you think so, Mr. Duvall?"</p>
+
+<p>"I think it highly probable. And what, Mrs. Morton, would you like to
+have me do in the matter?"</p>
+
+<p>"Why&mdash;come to New York, take up the case, and find out who these
+wretches are, so that they may be prevented from doing my daughter any
+harm. There is no time to lose. They may carry out their threats at any
+moment. You will observe that in the first letter they said that her
+beauty would be destroyed '<i>within thirty days</i>.' One of those days has
+already passed. To-day is the second. At most, we have but twenty-eight
+days left in which to find out who is responsible for this outrage.
+Investigation may consume a great deal of time. I hope that you will
+consent to come to New York and take charge of the matter at once. I am
+returning this afternoon, as soon as I can get a train. Can you not
+return with me? As for the matter of expense, I place no limit upon it.
+There is nothing I would not sacrifice, to save my daughter from the
+fate they have threatened. Think what it would mean, Mr. Duvall. A
+young, beautiful, innocent girl, scarcely more than a child, to go
+through life with her beauty taken from her, made hideous by some
+fiendish device, blinded and scarred by acid, her features
+crushed&mdash;gashed by some sudden blow. Can you imagine anything more
+terrible?"</p>
+
+<p>Duvall thought for moment of his own lovely child, now almost three
+years old, and shuddered. Bank burglaries, thefts of jewels, seemed
+relatively of small importance compared with such a situation as this.
+His feelings of chivalry rose. He felt a strong desire to help this
+young girl.</p>
+
+<p>"Here is her picture," Mrs. Morton continued, taking a photograph from
+her handbag and extending it to Duvall.</p>
+
+<p>The latter gazed at the charming features of the young actress, and
+nodded.</p>
+
+<p>"She is lovely&mdash;exquisite," he murmured. "I don't wonder you feel as you
+do. I did not intend to take up any detective work at this time, but I
+have decided to assist you in this matter in any way that I can."</p>
+
+<p>"Oh&mdash;thank you, Mr. Duvall." There were tears in Mrs. Morton's anxious
+eyes. "I can never repay you for your kindness&mdash;never. But if you can
+save Ruth from these scoundrels, I will gladly spend&mdash;&mdash;"</p>
+
+<p>"Never mind about that, Mrs. Morton," Duvall observed, with a friendly
+smile. "It is scarcely a question of money with me. If I had not felt a
+keen interest in your daughter's welfare, I should not have agreed to
+take up the matter at all. As it is, you need not worry about the
+expense. I am going to take the case largely <a name="because" id="because"></a>because it has interested
+me, and it will be a pleasure to work it out, not only on your
+daughter's account, but on my own. You know, to me, such matters are of
+absorbing interest, like the solving of some complex and baffling
+puzzle."</p>
+
+<p>"Then you will go back to New York with me this evening?"</p>
+
+<p>"I can hardly do that, Mrs. Morton. But I can agree to call on you there
+to-morrow. It will take me some hours to arrange matters here so that I
+can leave. I do not think you need worry for a few days at least. If
+these people had meant to act at once they would not have named the
+period of thirty days in their threats."</p>
+
+<p>"Very well." Mrs. Morton rose, and held out her hand. "I will expect you
+to-morrow. Will it be in the morning?"</p>
+
+<p>"Very likely. In any event, I will first telephone to you." He entered
+the address in his notebook. "By the way, perhaps you had better let me
+keep that photograph."</p>
+
+<p>"Certainly." Mrs. Morton handed it to him, and he thrust it into his
+pocket. "The letters you already have?"</p>
+
+<p>"Yes."</p>
+
+<p>"Is there anything else?"</p>
+
+<p>"Yes. One thing. Do not tell your daughter that you have employed me in
+this case. It&mdash;it might alarm her."</p>
+
+<p>"Certainly not. And that leads me to say that you, on your part, will of
+course observe the utmost secrecy. Even with Mrs. Duvall."</p>
+
+<p>"That goes without saying, madam. My professional secrets I share with
+no one. Even between my wife and myself there is an unwritten law which
+is never broken. Unless we are working on a case together&mdash;unless she
+can be of service to me, she asks no questions. She would not speak to
+me, or even recognize me, were we to meet, while I am engaged in work of
+this sort. You need have no fear on that score."</p>
+
+<p>"I am very glad to know that. Were these people to suspect that I have
+placed the matter in the hands of a detective, they would be instantly
+on their guard, and all means of tracing them might be lost."</p>
+
+<p>"That is undoubtedly true, and for that reason, I may appear in other
+characters than my own, from time to time, disguised perhaps, in such a
+way that even you would not recognize me. Under those circumstances I
+will suggest a password&mdash;one that will not be known to anyone else.
+Should occasion arise in which I desire to acquaint you with my
+identity, without making it known to others, I will merely repeat the
+words&mdash;twenty-eight days, or twenty-seven or six or five, as the case
+may be, on that particular day, and you will know that it is I, and act
+accordingly. Is that perfectly clear?"</p>
+
+<p>"Perfectly, Mr. Duvall."</p>
+
+<p>"Very well. Then we will leave further details until to-morrow." He
+shook hands with his caller, escorted her to her automobile, then
+returned to the library and began a careful study of the two notes which
+Mrs. Morton had left with him. Here Grace found him, half an hour later.</p>
+
+<p>"Well," she said, coming up to him with a smile. "Shall I begin to pack
+our things?"</p>
+
+<p>Duvall put his arm about her.</p>
+
+<p>"Yes, dear," he said. "We'll leave on the sleeper to-night. You can get
+Mrs. Preston to come and take charge of the house while we are gone. It
+may be two weeks. That is, if you want to go along."</p>
+
+<p>"Want to go along? Why, Richard, I'm just dying for a trip to New York.
+I haven't been there since before Christmas, as you know, and I've got
+to get a spring outfit. Of course I'm going." She went gayly toward the
+hall stairs.</p>
+
+<p>"Then you must be ready right after lunch," he called after her.</p>
+
+<p>"But why so soon, if we are taking the sleeper?"</p>
+
+<p>"Because we are going up to town this afternoon and see a few moving
+pictures."</p>
+
+<p>"Moving pictures?" Grace paused at the door, an expression of the utmost
+astonishment upon her face. "Why, Dick, you never go to moving pictures.
+You've always said they didn't interest you."</p>
+
+<p>"We're going, just the same."</p>
+
+<p>"What's come over you?" Grace asked.</p>
+
+<p>"Nothing. I'm curious to see some of them, that's all. Never too old to
+learn, you know. If I am not mistaken, I saw a new feature film
+advertised in the newspaper this morning." He took a paper from the desk
+and glanced through it. "Here it is. Ruth Morton, in <i>The Miser's
+Daughter</i>. Have you seen it?"</p>
+
+<p>"No. But I've seen Miss Morton often&mdash;in pictures, I mean. She's a
+lovely creature, and a splendid actress, too."</p>
+
+<p>"Then this film ought to be a good one, don't you think?"</p>
+
+<p>Grace burst into a rippling laugh.</p>
+
+<p>"You're getting positively human, Richard," she exclaimed. "Here I've
+been telling you for months past what a lot you've been missing, and you
+only made fun of me, and now you actually suggest going yourself. Was
+the lady who called interested in the motion picture business?"</p>
+
+<p>Duvall laughed, but made no reply.</p>
+
+<p>"What's the mystery?" Grace went on, with an amused smile. "You haven't
+told me, you know. Has she lost her jewels, or only her husband?"</p>
+
+<p>Duvall raised his hand.</p>
+
+<p>"No questions, my dear. This is a professional matter. But I don't mind
+telling you this much, if I ever become a motion picture 'fan,' you'll
+have her to thank for it."</p>
+
+<p>"Really. Then I'm glad she came. I hate going alone. And it seems I
+shall also have to thank her for a trip to New York. She has my eternal
+gratitude. Now I'm going up to pack."</p>
+
+<p>Duvall resumed his seat, and once more took up his examination of the
+letters Mrs. Morton had left with him, but they told him little. There
+were the usual individual peculiarities in the typewritten characters,
+but that was about all he could discover. The letter paper, while of
+excellent quality, was such as might be bought at any first-class
+stationery store. The death's head seal, of course, was highly
+individual, but to trace anyone by means of it presented almost
+insuperable difficulties. To find the seal, one must of necessity first
+find its owner, and then the chase would be over. He replaced the
+letters in his pocket book, and went to his room to make ready for their
+journey.</p>
+
+<br />
+
+<h2><a name="CHAPTER_IV" id="CHAPTER_IV"></a>CHAPTER IV</h2>
+
+
+<p>Mrs. Morton returned to New York that afternoon, greatly pleased with
+the results of her trip. That she had been able to enlist the services
+of Richard Duvall gave her a sense of security. She found Ruth at home,
+safe and well, with no further threats or warnings to disturb her peace
+of mind. The girl was absorbed in her new r&ocirc;le. The picture promised to
+be the most successful of her career.</p>
+
+<p>The following morning Mrs. Morton rose early, in order to go through the
+mail before Ruth had an opportunity to do so. The shock caused by the
+first threatening letter had passed from the girl's mind. The second she
+knew nothing of. Mrs. Morton was determined that if any more arrived,
+she should not see those either.</p>
+
+<p>Trembling with eagerness she opened the pile of letters, but found
+nothing. With a sigh of relief she turned away. Perhaps, after all she
+had exaggerated the importance of the matter. Half an hour later, while
+Ruth was eating her breakfast, a messenger boy arrived with a telegram,
+addressed to Miss Ruth Morton. The maid, seeing no reason to do
+otherwise, brought it to the girl as she sat at the table. Mrs. Morton,
+who had been at the rear of the apartment, hurried in as she heard the
+sound of the doorbell, but by the time she had reached the dining room,
+Ruth had already opened and read the message. She sat staring at a bit
+of yellow paper, her face pale and drawn.</p>
+
+<p>"What is it, dear?" Mrs. Morton cried, hurrying to her side.</p>
+
+<p>Ruth picked up the telegram and handed it to her mother.</p>
+
+<p>"Another threat," she said, quietly. "These people, whoever they are,
+seem to be in deadly earnest."</p>
+
+<p>Mrs. Morton took the telegram and hurriedly read it.</p>
+
+<p>"Even the beauty of the rose," the message said, "cannot endure for
+twenty-seven days." There was no signature to the telegram.</p>
+
+<p>A look of the deepest apprehension crept into Mrs. Morton's eyes, but
+she turned away, so that Ruth might not realize her fears.</p>
+
+<p>"Pay no attention to the matter, Ruth," she said, in tones suddenly
+grown a trifle unsteady. "It is certainly nothing more than a stupid
+joke."</p>
+
+<p>"Well, mother, of course you may be right, but for my part, I have a
+feeling that it isn't a joke at all, but a real and very terrible
+threat. What is to prevent these people, whoever they are, from
+attacking me&mdash;sending me some infernal machine in the disguise of a box
+or package, which, as soon as I open it, might burn or blind or
+otherwise disfigure me so that my life would be ruined?" She rose and
+glanced at herself in the mirror which hung over the mantel. Already
+there were deep circles of anxiety beneath her eyes, while the lines of
+her face, usually sweet and placid, were now those of an anxious and
+frightened woman. The first threat had upset her far more than her
+mother had realized. The one just received had intensified the effect a
+hundredfold.</p>
+
+<p>"But you mustn't open any packages, my child. Be very careful about
+that. And Robert must not stop the car, under any circumstances, in
+going to or from the studio. There, at least, I believe you are quite
+safe. I will have a talk with Mr. Edwards to-day, and explain matters to
+him. And here you cannot possibly be in any danger. Meanwhile, in spite
+of what you say, I still beg you not to let this matter prey upon your
+mind. I cannot, will not, take it seriously." Poor Mrs. Morton, herself
+thoroughly frightened, strove with all her might to convince Ruth that
+she had nothing to fear. She knew the girl's intense, high-strung
+nature, and feared that constant worry, ceaseless anxiety, might readily
+so work upon her as to reduce her to a nervous wreck long before the
+expiration of the thirty days named in the first threatening letter. She
+found herself wishing devoutly that Duvall would appear.</p>
+
+<p>As she finished speaking there came a ring at the doorbell, and Nora
+started to answer it. Mrs. Morton stopped her.</p>
+
+<p>"Nora," she said. "Listen to me. You are not, under any circumstances,
+to admit anyone&mdash;no matter who it is&mdash;until I have first seen and talked
+with them. Do you understand?"</p>
+
+<p>"Yes, ma'am. I understand," replied the girl, as she went out into the
+hall.</p>
+
+<p>A moment later Mrs. Morton, hearing a man's voice, hurried after her.
+Nora, with the door but slightly open, was speaking with a rough-looking
+fellow, a workman, apparently, who stood in the hallway outside. He was
+a man of thirty-five, with a reddish moustache, wearing working clothes
+and a cap. This he removed, as Mrs. Morton came to the door.</p>
+
+<p>"Is this Mrs. Morton's apartment?" he asked.</p>
+
+<p>"Yes. What do you want?" Mrs. Morton's voice and manner were far from
+encouraging.</p>
+
+<p>"There seems to be a leak in the plumbing somewhere on this floor," the
+man went on. "There's trouble with the ceilings in the apartment below.
+The superintendent wants me to go over the connections and see that
+everything is all right." He lifted a canvas bag containing his tools
+from the floor, and made as though to enter. Mrs. Morton, however, did
+not open the door any wider.</p>
+
+<p>"You can't come in now," she said. "Come back later&mdash;in an hour. My
+daughter is not dressed yet." She seemed ready to close the door
+entirely, but the man again spoke.</p>
+
+<p>"Can't afford to wait, ma'am," he said, with a significant smile. "I got
+every apartment in this building to go over before the end of the month,
+and there are <i>only twenty-seven days left</i>." He emphasized his
+concluding words, at the same time looking Mrs. Morton squarely in the
+eye. The words, the man's look, brought sudden recognition. Mrs. Morton
+drew open the door.</p>
+
+<p>"Very well," she said. "Come in." She realized that the supposed workman
+was no other than Duvall.</p>
+
+<p>The latter went quietly toward the kitchen at the rear of the apartment,
+and occupied himself by examining the connections of the sink. He seemed
+to work slowly, unconcernedly, whistling softly to himself as he moved
+about. His eyes, however, were very bright and keen, and no detail of
+the room, the negro cook who occupied it, or the buildings in the rear,
+escaped his attention.</p>
+
+<p>Mrs. Morton came back presently and addressed him.</p>
+
+<p>"My daughter has gone, now," she said. "You may look over the plumbing
+in the bathroom whenever you are ready."</p>
+
+<p>With a nod Duvall picked up his tools and followed her to the front of
+the apartment. As they left the kitchen, Mrs. Morton closed the door
+leading from it to the hall.</p>
+
+<p>"I want you to stay here for the next hour, Sarah," she said, as she
+left the kitchen. "If anyone rings, I will answer the bell." A moment
+later she and Duvall were in the library.</p>
+
+<p>The latter pretended to be busy inspecting the connections of the hot
+water radiator.</p>
+
+<p>"Have you received any more threats?" he asked, in a low voice, without
+turning his head.</p>
+
+<p>Mrs. Morton took the telegram that Ruth had received a short time
+before, and placed it in his hand.</p>
+
+<p>"This came half an hour ago," she said, without further comment.</p>
+
+<p>Duvall read it, then thrust it into his pocket.</p>
+
+<p>"Did your daughter see it?" he asked.</p>
+
+<p>"Yes. It had been delivered to her before I could prevent it."</p>
+
+<p>"That is too bad. Was she much upset?"</p>
+
+<p>"Yes. The thing is beginning to get on her nerves."</p>
+
+<p>Duvall rose, and placed his tools in the kit.</p>
+
+<p>"Please take me to your daughter's bedroom," he said. Mrs. Morton led
+the way.</p>
+
+<p>The room was a fairly large one, situated in an ell at the rear of the
+building. Of its two windows, one, as has already been pointed out,
+overlooked the court between the apartment building and the house next
+door. The other faced toward the rear. Duvall placed his kit of tools
+upon the floor, and began an examination of the room. After a quick
+glance about, he turned to Mrs. Morton.</p>
+
+<p>"Where was the letter found&mdash;the one that did not come through the
+mails?"</p>
+
+<p>"Here." Mrs. Morton indicated a spot on the floor near the small
+enameled dressing table that stood against the east wall of the room.
+Its position was midway between the two windows. It was clear that
+whoever had entered the room might have done so through either of the
+windows; at least, the position in which the dressing table stood
+afforded no indication as to which one it might have been.</p>
+
+<p>"Which of the two windows was open, when you found the letter?" Duvall
+asked.</p>
+
+<p>Mrs. Morton indicated the one facing the court.</p>
+
+<p>"This one," she said. "Not wide open. Perhaps six or eight inches."</p>
+
+<p>"The other was not fastened, I suppose?"</p>
+
+<p>"No. Ruth always keeps it raised during the night, but usually closes it
+while dressing."</p>
+
+<p>Duvall went to the window, and opened it. It was well balanced and moved
+easily.</p>
+
+<p>"Anyone coming up by way of the fire escape could, of course, have
+raised the window from the outside, and closed it again after leaving
+the room," he said, more to himself than to Mrs. Morton. Then he got out
+on the fire escape and made a careful examination of its surface.</p>
+
+<p>"When was this ironwork painted?" he asked Mrs. Morton, through the
+window.</p>
+
+<p>"About ten days ago."</p>
+
+<p>"H&mdash;m." Duvall examined the newly painted iron surface with rather a
+blank expression. That anyone had walked upon it since it had received
+its newly applied coat was, he felt, out of the question. The paint was
+so new, so shiny, so yielding in its fresh glossiness that, even
+treading as lightly as he could, the marks of his shoes were plainly
+visible. He leaned over and pressed the palm of his hand upon the grated
+iron floor. The pressure of his hand was sufficient to dull the freshly
+painted surface. It seemed impossible that anyone, even in bare or
+stockinged feet, could have been upon the fire escape, without having
+left tell-tale marks upon it. He re-entered the room, and turned his
+attention to the other window.</p>
+
+<p>Here the opportunities for entrance seemed even more unfavorable. The
+window was situated on the fourth floor. There was still another floor
+above, with a window similarly located. Anyone might, of course, have
+been lowered from this window above, to the sill of the one at which he
+now stood, and entered the room in that way. He examined with care the
+white woodwork of the window sill, also freshly painted. It showed no
+marks. This, of course, was not conclusive. He determined to investigate
+the occupants of the apartment on the top floor.</p>
+
+<p>The wall of the brownstone dwelling house next door, which formed the
+east side of the narrow court, was of brick, covered with ivy. There
+were no windows in it whatever. Apparently it had once adjoined the wall
+of a similar house, where the apartment building now stood, and when the
+second house had been torn down to make way for the new building, the
+partition wall had remained as originally built, without windows.</p>
+
+<p>Duvall examined this house next door with a great deal of <a name="interest" id="interest"></a>interest. It
+was four stories high, with an attic, and rose to almost the same height
+as the fifth floor of the apartment house, owing, no doubt, to its
+ceilings being somewhat higher. In the sloping roof of the attic were
+three small dormer windows, facing the court, but the nearest one was
+perhaps twenty feet from the window of Ruth's room, in a horizontal
+direction, and some eight or ten feet above it. There was no way in
+which anyone could have passed from the attic window to that of Ruth's
+room, even supposing such a person to be an expert climber. Anyone
+lowered from this window by means of a rope would merely have found
+himself hanging against a bare brick wall, twenty feet from the window
+of the girl's room. Duvall, accompanied by Mrs. Morton, made his way
+back to the library.</p>
+
+<p>"You feel quite certain about the cook?" he asked.</p>
+
+<p>"Sarah?" Mrs. Morton smiled. "What do you think? You've seen her."</p>
+
+<p>"She certainly appears to be above suspicion," Duvall replied. "But one
+can never be sure. Suppose you send her out on some errand. I should
+like to search her room."</p>
+
+<p>Mrs. Morton left him for a few moments, and presently the old colored
+woman passed down the hall and left the apartment. Then Duvall,
+accompanied by Mrs. Morton, made a thorough examination of the woman's
+room.</p>
+
+<p>His search disclosed nothing of interest, nor was a similar search of
+the room of Nora, the maid, productive of anything that could in any way
+connect her with the mysterious warnings. There remained only the
+occupants of the fifth floor apartment. Duvall requested Mrs. Morton to
+summon the janitor of the building, and explain to him, in a guarded
+way, that he wished to ask him certain questions.</p>
+
+<p>The janitor proved to be a good-natured fellow, who seemed extremely
+anxious to please Mrs. Morton in every possible way. In answer to a
+question from the latter, he said that the apartment on the top floor
+was vacant, and had been vacant for nearly two months.</p>
+
+<p>The family that had occupied it, he explained, had moved away, and had
+requested the management of the building to sublet it. This they had not
+yet succeeded in doing.</p>
+
+<p>"May I go up and look it over?" Duvall asked.</p>
+
+<p>"Sure you may," the janitor replied, and he and Duvall went to the
+elevator, leaving Mrs. Morton waiting in the library.</p>
+
+<p>The apartment on the top floor had been newly done over, and smelt of
+fresh varnish and paint. The shiny floors had scarcely been walked upon,
+since they had been refinished. The air was close and warm, by reason of
+the tightly closed windows. Duvall proceeded at once to the room
+directly over Ruth's bedroom.</p>
+
+<p>To his disappointment the two windows were not only closed and fastened,
+but so tightly stuck on account of the fresh paint that it required the
+combined efforts of the janitor and himself to open them. That they had
+been opened, since the painting had been done, some ten days before, was
+clearly out of the question. Duvall made up his mind at once that
+however the person who had placed the mysterious message in Ruth's room
+had effected his or her entrance, it had not been by way of the
+apartment on the top floor.</p>
+
+<p>Somewhat disappointed, he went to the floor below, and thanking the
+janitor for his kindness, rejoined Mrs. Morton.</p>
+
+<p>"What have you discovered, Mr. Duvall?" the latter asked, eagerly.</p>
+
+<p>"Nothing, so far. I confess the thing is somewhat of a <a name="puzzle" id="puzzle"></a>puzzle."</p>
+
+<p>"Someone <i>must</i> have been in Ruth's room."</p>
+
+<p>"Not necessarily."</p>
+
+<p>"But&mdash;why not?"</p>
+
+<p>"You will remember that you found the letter on the floor. That would
+seem to me to indicate rather the opposite. If anyone had actually been
+<i>in</i> the room, they would have been far more apt to place the message on
+the dressing table. That it was found upon the floor indicates to my
+mind that it was in some way inserted&mdash;thrown, perhaps&mdash;through the
+window from without." He took the letter in question from his pocket,
+and sitting down, gazed intently at the surface of the envelope.
+Presently he passed it over to Mrs. Morton. "What do you make of that?"
+he said, indicating with his finger a curious row of indentations,
+extending in a semi-circular line about midway of one of the longer
+edges of the envelope.</p>
+
+<p>The marks were very faint, but by turning the letter about in the light,
+Mrs. Morton at last managed to make them out. What they were, how they
+had been placed there Duvall could not say. Yet their presence indicated
+something of value, of that he felt sure.</p>
+
+<p>"I don't understand them at all," Mrs. Morton replied, returning the
+letter to him. "It looks as though someone had held the letter in a&mdash;a
+pair of pincers."</p>
+
+<p>The suggestion conveyed by her words interested Duvall greatly. The same
+thought had been forming in his own mind.</p>
+
+<p>He rose to his feet, his eyes shining with interest. Why could not such
+a pair of pincers or forceps have been attached to a long pole, such as
+a fishing rod, and the letter in this way pushed through the window and
+released by pulling on a cord attached to one of the forceps' handles?
+The thing was perfectly practical, except for the fact that there seemed
+no place from which such a pole or rod might have been extended. He
+gazed out of the library window, across the court to the row of dormer
+windows in the house opposite. The distance from the nearest of them, to
+Ruth's window was, as he had before observed, at least twenty feet
+horizontally, or some twenty-three feet on the diagonal. Then there was
+the distance from the window to the dressing table, at least eight feet
+more, to be added, making necessary a rod over thirty feet long. And he
+saw at a glance that even could a rod of this length be secured and
+handled, the angle made by a line from the dormer window through Ruth's
+window was such that the end of the rod or pole would strike the floor
+only a few feet beyond the windowsill, and in no possible way could its
+further end be elevated sufficiently to deposit the letter in front of
+the dressing table. The thing was manifestly out of the question, even
+had the window of the girl's room been <i>wide open</i>. And Mrs. Morton had
+assured him with the greatest positiveness that it had been open, at the
+time the letter was found, <i>but a few inches</i>. He returned the letters
+to his pocket and rose.</p>
+
+<p>"The thing is astonishing&mdash;remarkable," he said to Mrs. Morton, who was
+regarding him intently. "I confess that so far I am quite in the dark. I
+feel sure that whoever entered the room, or left the message, must have
+done so by means of the fire-escape, and yet, how was it possible,
+without marks having been left upon the paint? I think I shall make
+another and even more careful examination, in the hope that some slight
+clues may have escaped me." He once more made his way toward the girl's
+room, followed by Mrs. Morton.</p>
+
+<p>The room was precisely as they had left it. The window facing to the
+rear was wide open, Duvall having omitted to close it after his
+examination of the fire escape. The window fronting on the court was
+raised perhaps six inches. And yet, to the utter amazement of them both,
+there lay on the floor of the room, near its center, a square white
+envelope, addressed in typewriting to Ruth Morton.</p>
+
+<p>Duvall sprang forward and seized it with an exclamation of astonishment.
+It bore the same seal, in the same black wax, and upon it was the same
+semi-circular row of indentations. He tore the letter open. Its
+typewritten message was brief but significant. "Only twenty-seven days
+more," it read. The grinning death's head seal seemed to Duvall's
+astonished eyes even more terrifying than before.</p>
+
+<p>With a bound he reached the rear window, and swung himself upon the fire
+escape. There was no one in sight. The gray surface of the ironwork
+showed not the slightest scratch, save those made by his own heels
+earlier in the day. The steps of the ladder leading up to the next floor
+were glistening, immaculate. Those of the one to the floor below were
+equally so. He re-entered the room, and going to the opposite window,
+threw it wide open. The three dormer windows of the adjoining house were
+gray, dusty, as though they had not been opened for years. He turned to
+his companion with a look of amazement.</p>
+
+<p>"In all my experience, Mrs. Morton," he said, "I do not think that I
+have ever encountered anything quite so astonishing. That letter must
+have been placed there while I was in the apartment above. Your cook,
+your maid, are out. Certainly you did not place it there yourself. And
+yet we know that someone has been in this room, or at least delivered
+the letter, during the past fifteen minutes. Had I not found it here
+myself, I should have been almost tempted to disbelieve it, but I am
+forced to admit its truth."</p>
+
+<p>Mrs. Morton stood wringing her hands.</p>
+
+<p>"It&mdash;it seems almost supernatural," she exclaimed. "Poor Ruth. What are
+we to do?"</p>
+
+<p>"There is nothing supernatural about the matter, madam," Duvall
+remarked. "I don't doubt the explanation is simple enough, could we but
+hit upon it. But so far I confess I am unable to understand it." He went
+over to the wall which adjoined that of the house next door, and sounded
+it, inch by inch, with a small hammer he took from his bag of tools. The
+operation required several minutes. When he had completed it, he tossed
+the hammer back into his kit in disgust. "Brick, of course," he said,
+"and perfectly solid." He turned toward the door. "What are you going to
+do now?" Mrs. Morton asked.</p>
+
+<p>"Try to find out something through this telegram. And also, investigate
+the house next door."</p>
+
+<p>"But, you will come back? I am afraid."</p>
+
+<p>"I shall be at your call at all times, Mrs. Morton. If anything of
+interest occurs, notify me here." He drew a card from his pocket and
+wrote upon it the name of his hotel. "Say nothing to your daughter about
+these new threats. I shall probably see you again later in the day."
+Shouldering his kit of tools, Duvall left the apartment. He was by no
+means satisfied with the results of his visit. In fact there had
+apparently been no results at all.</p>
+
+<br />
+
+<h2><a name="CHAPTER_V" id="CHAPTER_V"></a>CHAPTER V</h2>
+
+
+<p>Duvall's first move, after leaving Mrs. Morton's apartment that morning,
+was to enter the taxicab which had been waiting for him at the door and
+return to his hotel. A light overcoat which he had in the vehicle
+concealed his workman's disguise sufficiently to enable him to reach his
+room without exciting comment. Once there, he changed his clothes,
+putting on a professional looking frock coat, and adjusting a pair of
+shell-rimmed eyeglasses to complete the slight disguise. Thus equipped,
+he once more set out.</p>
+
+<p>Grace had left a note for him, saying that she had gone shopping. Beside
+it lay the photograph of Ruth Morton, which he had, he remembered, left
+on his chiffonier while putting on his workman's clothes that morning.
+At the foot of her hastily written note Grace had added a postscript.
+"Is <i>this</i> the reason for your sudden interest in motion pictures?" it
+read. "Well, I'll admit she's a raving beauty, Richard, but I'll bet she
+isn't half as nice as I am." Duvall read the note with a smile. Grace
+was always such a thoroughly good comrade.</p>
+
+<p>Leaving the hotel, he went to the telegraph office from which the
+message to Ruth Morton had been delivered that morning. It was on
+Columbus Avenue, some four blocks from the Mortons' apartment.</p>
+
+<p>"Can you tell me where this telegram was sent from?" he asked. The
+message showed that it had been filed, as well as delivered, within the
+city limits.</p>
+
+<p>The man behind the desk looked up his records.</p>
+
+<p>"It was sent from the main office on lower Broadway, at 8.30," he said,
+briefly.</p>
+
+<p>Duvall thanked him, then turned away. Although he realized that he could
+scarcely hope to obtain even a scanty description of the sender of the
+telegram from the main office, he determined to go there. First,
+however, he walked back toward the Mortons' apartment, and going up the
+steps of the brownstone house adjoining, rang the doorbell.</p>
+
+<p>A neat maid-servant opened the door. Duvall favored her with a smile, at
+the same time taking a notebook and pencil from his pocket.</p>
+
+<p>"I am making some corrections in the city directory," he said. "Will you
+please give me the names of all the persons living in this house." The
+girl stared at him for a moment, but his prosperous appearance, his
+businesslike manner, disarmed any suspicion she may have felt.</p>
+
+<p>"There's&mdash;there's Mr. William Perkins," she said, "and Mrs. Perkins, and
+Mr. Robert, that's Mr. Perkins' son, and&mdash;and Miss Elizabeth, although
+she's away at boarding school, and&mdash;and Emily Thompson, the cook,
+and&mdash;and me. My name's Mary. Mary Wickes."</p>
+
+<p>"Thank you, Mary," Duvall replied, entering the names carefully in his
+notebook. "And Mr. Perkins, the elder Mr. Perkins, I mean, is he the
+lawyer?"</p>
+
+<p>"No, sir. It's Mr. Robert that's the lawyer, sir. Mr. William Perkins is
+in the leather business."</p>
+
+<p>"Ah, yes. I see. Thank you very much indeed. And there are no boarders,
+or other persons whatever living in the house?"</p>
+
+<p>"No, sir. Not any, sir."</p>
+
+<p>Duvall closed his book and put it carefully in his pocket.</p>
+
+<p>"Now, Mary," he continued. "Just one more question. Does any one sleep
+in the attic?"</p>
+
+<p>"The attic, sir? Why, no sir. Cook and I sleep on the fourth floor, sir,
+but the attic isn't used, except for storage, sir. Are you going to put
+that in the directory too, sir?" The girl regarded him with wondering
+eyes.</p>
+
+<p>"No, Mary. Not in the directory. But we want to be sure not to omit any
+names, and I thought that if there was anyone living in the attic&mdash;&mdash;"
+he paused.</p>
+
+<p>"No one, as I've told you. Nobody ever goes up there, so far as I know.
+Is that all, sir?"</p>
+
+<p>"Yes. That's all. Thank you. Good morning."</p>
+
+<p>Duvall went down the steps, and proceeded to the subway station,
+somewhat mystified. He had handled many curious cases in the past, many
+that had been notable for their intricacy, their complexity of motive
+and detail. But here, he felt, was a case of a very different sort, the
+peculiarity of which lay in its astonishing lack of clues of any sort.
+Usually in the past there had been motives, evidence, traces of some
+kind or other, upon which to build a case. Here there was nothing,
+except the three mysterious letters, the one equally mysterious
+telegram. He felt baffled, uncertain which way to turn. In rather a
+dissatisfied frame of mind he made his way to the telegraph office in
+lower Broadway. There were several clerks engaged in receiving messages.
+He approached one of them.</p>
+
+<p>"This telegram," he said, holding out the slip of yellow paper Mrs.
+Morton had given him, "was sent from this office at half past eight this
+morning. Can you by any chance give me a description of the person who
+sent it?" He leaned over and addressed the clerk in a low tone. "I am a
+detective," he said. "The telegram is part of a blackmailing scheme."</p>
+
+<p>The man looked at him for a moment, and then consulted with an older
+man, evidently his superior. The latter came forward.</p>
+
+<p>"I received this message myself, sir," he said. "I remember it, because
+of its peculiar wording. What is it you wish to know?"</p>
+
+<p>"I would like a description of the person who sent it," Duvall told him.</p>
+
+<p>The man thought for a moment.</p>
+
+<p>"I'm not able to tell you much," he said. "It was a woman&mdash;I didn't
+notice particularly whether she was young or old. In fact, she didn't
+give me a chance, just laid the message and the money down and went
+right out. She evidently knew the rate, for the amount she left was
+correct. I took the message and read it, without noticing her
+particularly, and then, when I had finished reading it and looked up,
+she had gone."</p>
+
+<p>"Then you can't tell me anything about her?" Duvall asked, greatly
+disappointed.</p>
+
+<p>"Not a thing. I remember it was a woman, and my general impression is
+that she was rather young and small, but I can't be at all sure. You
+see, sir, a great many persons come in, during the day, and we haven't
+time to take note of them particularly. As I say, I read the telegram
+first, and counted the words. By that time she had left the office."</p>
+
+<p>Duvall thanked the man for his information and made his way to the
+street. Something at least had been gained. The person who was hounding
+Ruth Morton was a woman.</p>
+
+<p>By this he was not at all surprised. He had felt for some time that
+Ruth's enemy was, in all probability, some jealous and envious movie
+actress who, herself unsuccessful, resented the youth and beauty of her
+successful rival. He called a taxi and directed the driver to take him
+out to the studio of the company with which Ruth was connected. Here, in
+all probability, was to be found the woman he sought.</p>
+
+<p>The journey consumed considerably over an hour, and it was lunch time
+when he finally drew up before the entrance to the series of studio
+buildings. Before entering he went to a nearby restaurant to get a bite
+to eat.</p>
+
+<p>It was a small and rather cheap place, but at this hour was crowded with
+the employees of the big company. Duvall at first could not find a seat,
+but presently discovered one at a table not far from the door, at which
+were seated some young men, apparently stenographers or clerks.</p>
+
+<p>While waiting for his order of sandwiches and milk, the detective
+occupied himself with a newspaper. He was not reading it, however,
+although he pretended to be deeply engrossed in its contents. He was in
+reality listening to the gossip of the studio, which rose in a chorus
+about him.</p>
+
+<p>From a nearby table came the voice of a woman, evidently a great admirer
+of Ruth Morton.</p>
+
+<p>"I tell you," she said, "that new film that she finished last week, An
+American Beauty, is going to be a knockout. She's the swellest thing on
+the screen. Got 'em <i>all</i> faded, <i>I</i> think."</p>
+
+<p>"Think so?" questioned one of her companions. "I'm pretty strong for
+Helen Ward, myself."</p>
+
+<p>"Ruth Morton won't last," remarked a third, in a petulant voice.</p>
+
+<p>"Course she'll last. Say&mdash;ain't that a bear of a title? An American Beauty. She
+always seems like a beautiful big rose, to me."</p>
+
+<p>"Well, roses don't last, do they?" asked the petulant voice again. "Not
+very long, anyway."</p>
+
+<p>Duvall turned suddenly in an effort to see the face of the speaker, but
+try as he would, he was unable to do so. Two of the girls sat with their
+backs to him. He could not manage to catch a glimpse of either of them.
+Almost as he turned, the three rose and made their way to the street.
+For a moment he thought of following them, but the idea seemed absurd.
+These twelve dollar a week stenographers or clerks could have no part in
+the plot against Miss Morton. And yet, there was something startling in
+the young woman's words. "Roses don't last." The telegram received by
+Ruth Morton that morning had contained almost the same phrase. "Even the
+beauty of the rose cannot endure." Then he remembered the title of the
+new film of which the girls had spoken, and smiled at his own
+suspicions. "An American Beauty." It would be natural, perfectly natural
+for anyone to refer to Ruth as a rose, with that title for her latest
+picture. He dismissed the matter from his mind, and proceeded to make a
+hasty lunch.</p>
+
+<div class="figcenter" style="width: 352px;">
+<img src="images/illus01-cropped.jpg" width="352" height="525" alt="He was watching, not only Ruth, but those about her" title="" />
+<span class="caption">He was watching, not only Ruth, but those about her</span>
+</div>
+
+<p>At the entrance of the studio he explained that he was a writer of
+special articles for the Sunday papers, and had come to "write up" the
+life at the studios. He was promptly turned over to one of the officials
+who, after a few inquiries, seemed delighted at the opportunity to
+obtain free publicity for his company and its stars.</p>
+
+<p>"I want particularly to give a sketch of Miss Ruth Morton," he said.
+"She seems to be such a universal favorite."</p>
+
+<p>"A most delightful and charming woman," his companion asserted, with a
+pleased smile. "Come this way. You may be able to see her at work." He
+led Duvall down a long corridor, and into one of the big studio rooms.</p>
+
+<p>The first impression Duvall got was that of utter confusion. People were
+darting here and there, in ordinary clothes, or in all sorts of makeups.
+Stage carpenters were creating a terrific racket, building a new scene.
+A tangle of electric light cables, a blinding glare from the arcs, a
+confusion of voices, a wilderness of scenery and "props" all combined to
+create an impression quite the reverse of what he had expected. Here, he
+felt, was something very different from the theater, something bigger,
+yet more elemental, in which vast sums were expended daily to amuse a
+vaster indeed, a world-wide, audience. He sat down upon a box, and
+inspected the scene before him.</p>
+
+<p>"Miss Morton will be on in a few moments," his guide said.</p>
+
+<p>Duvall nodded. His attention was fixed upon the little drama going on
+before him. He knew nothing of the plot of the play, but the mechanical
+features of the operation held his interest keenly. The brilliant
+electric lights, the setting of the little room, the actors in their
+ghastly greenish makeups, the camera man, grinding stolidly away at his
+machine, the director, hovering about like a hawk, watching every
+movement, every gesture, with a superlatively critical eye, all spoke to
+him of a new world, and one with which he was not in the least familiar.</p>
+
+<p>Suddenly he saw the lovely face of Ruth Morton, as the girl appeared
+from an open doorway. She did not take part in the picture at once, but
+stood chatting with the director, awaiting the moment when she would
+make her entrance. Duvall watched her intently. Her face, he thought,
+was drawn, nervous, her expression one of fear. She seemed suspicious of
+every one who came near her, as though she suspected that every stage
+hand, every electrician or helper, had in his possession a bottle of
+vitriol, which he only awaited the moment to hurl in her face. That the
+girl's nervous manner, her strained and tense expression, was evident to
+others as well as to himself, he realized from a remark his companion
+made to him.</p>
+
+<p>"Miss Morton doesn't seem herself to-day," he said. "She must have
+something on her mind. I shouldn't be surprised if she has been working
+too hard lately."</p>
+
+<p>Duvall made no reply. He was watching, not only Ruth, but those about
+her. In particular he observed the other women in the cast. It seemed
+not improbable that among them he would find the one whose envy had led
+to the sending of the threats Ruth had been receiving.</p>
+
+<p>Presently the scene was finished, and Ruth, in response to a call from
+Duvall's companion, came toward them.</p>
+
+<p>"Miss Morton," the latter said, "let me present Mr. Richards." This was
+the name Duvall had given. "He is anxious to meet you, and write you up
+for one of the newspapers."</p>
+
+<p>Ruth gave him her hand with a smile which Duvall saw clearly enough was
+forced. The girl was palpably worn, <i>distrait</i>.</p>
+
+<p>"I'm not going to interview you now, Miss Morton," he said. "I can
+understand that you must be tired, after posing all the morning. Let me
+come and see you sometime when you are more at leisure."</p>
+
+<div class="figcenter" style="width: 349px;">
+<img src="images/illus02-cropped.jpg" width="349" height="522" alt="Come to my house some evening, and I'll tell you all
+about being a 'movie' star" />
+<span class="caption">"Come to my house some evening, and I&#39;ll tell you all
+about being a 'movie' star"</span>
+</div>
+
+<p>She thanked him with a smile, this time quite genuine.</p>
+
+<p>"I'm not feeling very well this afternoon," she said. "Come to my home
+some evening, or better still, on Sunday, and I'll tell you all I know
+about being a 'movie' star. So glad to have met you." She was just about
+to turn away, when a small boy came up, carrying in his hand a flat
+package, wrapped in brown paper. Duvall observed that the package had
+upon it a typewritten address.</p>
+
+<p>"Something for you, Miss Morton," he said, and placed the package in
+Ruth's hand.</p>
+
+<p>The girl looked at it for a moment in dismay. Then realizing that the
+eyes of the two men were <a name="bent" id="bent"></a>bent curiously upon her, she recovered herself
+and tore open the brown paper envelope. Duvall, with one eye on the boy,
+saw that he had disappeared through the door leading to the company's
+executive offices.</p>
+
+<p>Suddenly Ruth, who had been examining the contents of the package, gave
+a faint cry, and swayed backward, as though about to fall. Duvall's
+companion sprang to her assistance, while Duvall himself snatched the
+object which had so affected her from her hand and hastily examined it.</p>
+
+<p>It was a photograph of Ruth Morton herself, but Duvall, as he gazed at
+it, comprehended instantly the effect it had produced upon the girl's
+over-wrought nerves. Some clever hand had been at work upon the
+photograph, retouching it, changing its lovely expression, until the
+portrait, instead of being a thing of beauty, grinned up at him in
+frightful hideousness. The blank, sightless eyes, the haggard cheeks,
+the thin wasted lips, the protruding and jagged teeth, all created an
+impression shocking beyond belief. And yet, the result had been obtained
+by the addition of but a few simple lines and shadows.</p>
+
+<p>Along the blank space at the bottom of the picture a line of typewritten
+characters had been placed. Duvall glanced at them. "As you will look
+soon," the words read. Below them was fixed the grinning Death's head
+seal. Unobserved in the confusion, Duvall thrust the photograph into his
+pocket, and turned to Ruth and the others.</p>
+
+<p>The girl had recovered herself by now, and was being conducted to her
+dressing room by a solicitous crowd. So far as Duvall would see, she had
+said nothing to those about her as to the cause of her sudden
+indisposition, and with the exception of the man who had been Duvall's
+guide, none of them had observed the opening of the package containing
+the photograph, nor its immediate effect upon her.</p>
+
+<p>The latter, however, whose name was Baker, came over to Duvall and
+addressed him.</p>
+
+<p>"What was it about that photograph that upset Miss Morton so?" he asked.
+"And what has become of it?"</p>
+
+<p>Duvall drew him to one side.</p>
+
+<p>"Let us go to your office, Mr. Baker," he said. "I have a most important
+matter to discuss with you."</p>
+
+<p>Baker regarded the detective for a moment in surprise, then, seeing that
+Duvall was very much in earnest, he led the way to his private office.</p>
+
+<p>"I am not a newspaper writer, Mr. Baker," Duvall said, as soon as they
+were seated. "As a matter of fact, I am a detective, in the employ of
+Mrs. Morton, Ruth Morton's mother."</p>
+
+<p>"A detective?" he questioned. "Why has Miss Morton's mother employed a
+detective?"</p>
+
+<p>"Because someone is persecuting the girl, by sending her threatening
+letters, saying that her beauty is to be destroyed. This photograph"&mdash;he
+drew the hideous picture from his pocket&mdash;"is a sample of their work."</p>
+
+<p>Mr. Baker regarded the photograph for a moment in silence, then rose
+with a growl of rage and struck his clenched fist upon the desk.</p>
+
+<p>"This is outrageous&mdash;damnable!" he cried. "It cannot go on. No wonder
+the poor girl looked tired out. We will put the matter in the hands of
+the police. We will spend any amount of money&mdash;&mdash;"</p>
+
+<p>"Wait a moment, Mr. Baker," Duvall interrupted, urging the angry man
+back into his chair. "Nothing is to be gained by giving any publicity to
+this matter. The scoundrels who are at the bottom of it will at once be
+warned, and then our chance of catching them will be small indeed. So
+far, not a soul knows that I am working on this case, outside of Mrs.
+Morton, and yourself. Even Miss Ruth does not know it. I have already
+unearthed some very surprising things connected with the case, although
+I have been occupied with it only since this morning. Within a few days,
+I have no doubt, I shall be able to place my hands upon the person or
+persons responsible for the trouble, but I must insist that I be given a
+free hand."</p>
+
+<p>"But," Mr. Baker expostulated, "she may be in immediate danger. At any
+moment something may happen that would ruin her beauty, and
+incidentally, ruin us as well. She is our star attraction."</p>
+
+<p>"I do not think the danger is immediate," Duvall replied gravely. "All
+the threats so far received set thirty days as the period within which
+the attack is to be made. Only three days have passed, so far. And in
+addition, Miss Morton is being very carefully guarded."</p>
+
+<p>"She certainly shall be while she is here at the studio," Mr. Baker
+exclaimed. "But, man, something ought to be done&mdash;at once."</p>
+
+<p>"The first thing to be done is to find out how that photograph got
+here&mdash;who brought it&mdash;and when. It was not delivered by mail. Look
+here." He handed the angry official the torn manilla envelope, which
+Ruth, in her excitement, had dropped upon the floor.</p>
+
+<p>Mr. Baker regarded it for a moment in angry silence, then pressed an
+electric button upon his desk. A young woman responded.</p>
+
+<p>"Send Jim here," he said. The girl nodded and withdrew.</p>
+
+<p>A few moments later a freckled-faced boy of twelve or fourteen came in.
+Duvall saw that it was the same boy who had brought in the photograph.</p>
+
+<p>"You sent for me, sir?" he asked.</p>
+
+<p>"Yes. Where did you get the package you delivered to Miss Morton a
+little while ago?"</p>
+
+<p>"From Mr. Curry, sir."</p>
+
+<p>"Good." Mr. Baker rose and went toward the door. "Come with me," he said
+to Duvall, "and you too, Jim." The three of them went along the
+corridor, arriving presently at the main entrance to the building. An
+elderly man sat at a high desk behind a wire grating.</p>
+
+<p>"Curry," Mr. Baker burst out, "this boy tells me you gave him a package
+for Miss Morton a while ago."</p>
+
+<p>"Yes, sir."</p>
+
+<p>"Where did you get it?"</p>
+
+<p>The man looked up in surprise.</p>
+
+<p>"Why, sir, someone left it here&mdash;on my desk. I don't know who, sir.
+Right after lunch, it was. You know people deliver things here all the
+time. I didn't take any particular notice how it got here. It was just
+pushed through the window, I guess, same as usual. There was a lot of
+mail in the rack, after lunch, and everybody asking for theirs as they
+came in. In fact, I don't remember seeing the package handed in at all.
+Just found it lying on my desk, along with a lot of letters and things.
+Why, <a name="sir" id="sir"></a>sir? Is anything wrong?"</p>
+
+<p>Baker turned to Duvall in disgust.</p>
+
+<p>"No system here at all," he grumbled. "The trail is lost, of course.
+Half a hundred people come through here every hour. That's all, Jim," he
+said, turning to the boy, who disappeared at once. Accompanied by
+Duvall, Baker returned to the private office.</p>
+
+<p>"Well?" Mr. Baker asked. "What next?"</p>
+
+<p>"How many typewriters have you in your offices, Mr. Baker? Machines, I
+mean, not operators."</p>
+
+<p>"About thirty, I guess. Or maybe thirty-five. Why?"</p>
+
+<p>"I want you to get me a sample of the writing of each machine, without
+letting anyone know about it. Put each one on a separate sheet of paper,
+with a note added, stating whose machine it is&mdash;that is, in whose
+office."</p>
+
+<p>Mr. Baker nodded. "I'll do it to-night," he said. "Attend to it myself.
+I see your idea. You think this thing is the work of someone inside the
+studio."</p>
+
+<p>"It may be, I don't know. But I mean to find out."</p>
+
+<p>"All right. Anything else?"</p>
+
+<p>"Yes. Tell me something about this new film you've just gotten out. 'An
+American Beauty,' I think it is called."</p>
+
+<p>Mr. Baker's manner became enthusiastic.</p>
+
+<p>"Greatest film Ruth Morton ever did," he exclaimed. "A knockout. It is
+to be shown at the Grand, on Broadway, to-morrow night. First time on
+the screen. You'd better look it over."</p>
+
+<p>"I probably shall. Now, tell me this. If I wanted to add anything to
+that picture, put in an insert, I believe you call it, could I do so, if
+I told you about it to-morrow?"</p>
+
+<p>"Well&mdash;it might be done," Mr. Baker replied, dubiously. "But we wouldn't
+want to change the film any. It's perfect as it is."</p>
+
+<p>"I don't doubt that. I have no idea of improving it in any way. But it
+is just possible that I may have a scheme that will help us to catch
+these people who are threatening Miss Morton. I'll tell you more about
+it, to-morrow. Meanwhile, don't forget about the typewriter samples.
+I'll see you in the morning." He rose. "And for the present, I think it
+would be best for you to keep what I have told you to yourself."</p>
+
+<p>Mr. Baker nodded.</p>
+
+<p>"I'll do that," he said, putting out his hand. "For the present, at
+least. But don't forget, Mr. Duvall, that this is a very vital matter to
+our company, and we can't afford to take any chances."</p>
+
+<p>"I realize that fully. You can depend on me. I intend to save Miss
+Morton from any harm, not primarily on your company's account, but on
+her own. Good day."</p>
+
+<p>"Good day, and the best of luck."</p>
+
+<p>Duvall went toward the entrance, and in the corridor met Mrs. Morton.
+She was about to pass him, but he detained her.</p>
+
+<p>"Twenty-seven days more," he whispered to her. She turned sharply, a
+look of fear upon her face, but as she recognized Duvall, her expression
+changed.</p>
+
+<p>"Oh&mdash;it's you," she exclaimed. "I've just come down in the car, to take
+Ruth home. Is everything all right?"</p>
+
+<p>"Yes, so far. At least no harm has come to your daughter. But I am sorry
+to say that she has received another warning."</p>
+
+<p>"Here?" Mrs. Morton started, and glanced about in alarm.</p>
+
+<p>"Yes."</p>
+
+<p>"What was it?"</p>
+
+<p>"A photograph." Duvall explained the contents of the mysterious package,
+but did not show the hideous picture to the girl's mother.</p>
+
+<p>"And you haven't found out anything yet?"</p>
+
+<p>"Nothing definite. There has scarcely been time. But we will. You may be
+sure of that."</p>
+
+<p>"Have you seen Ruth?" Mrs. Morton asked.</p>
+
+<p>"Yes. Mr. Baker introduced me to her. She thinks I am a newspaper man,
+who wants to write a special article about her for one of the Sunday
+papers. She suggested that I call at your house some evening, or
+possibly Sunday. If you are going back to town soon, I think it might be
+a good idea for me to drive back with you."</p>
+
+<p>"By all means. I shall feel much safer. Suppose you wait for us at the
+entrance. I shall not be long."</p>
+
+<p>Duvall nodded, and strolled toward the street, his mind busy with the
+events of the day. He stood for quite a while near the door, watching
+the people who came in and out. Many of them were women. He wondered if
+among them was the woman who was responsible for the threats of the past
+three days. It seemed improbable, and yet, there were indications that
+it was within the studio, rather than outside it, that the guilty person
+was to be found.</p>
+
+<p>Mrs. Morton came out presently, accompanied by Ruth. The girl looked
+pale and troubled. Duvall went up to her.</p>
+
+<p>"I have met your mother, Miss Morton," he said, "and she has very kindly
+suggested that I ride back to the city with you."</p>
+
+<p>The girl nodded, without particular interest.</p>
+
+<p>"We shall be very glad to have you," she said, "but you will excuse me,
+I know, if I do not talk to you about my work. I am feeling rather bad
+to-day, and I'm sure I couldn't tell you anything interesting."</p>
+
+<p>"I'm sure I would not expect it, under the circumstances," Duvall
+replied, as Miss Morton, accompanied by her mother, went toward the
+automobile that stood near the entrance. "I don't doubt your work is
+full of trying incidents."</p>
+
+<p>"Oh, it isn't my work," the girl replied, as he assisted her into the
+car. "I love my work. But there are other things." She glanced toward
+her mother with a tired smile, then sank back upon the cushions.</p>
+
+<p>A moment later they were whirling toward the city.</p>
+
+<br />
+
+<h2><a name="CHAPTER_VI" id="CHAPTER_VI"></a>CHAPTER VI</h2>
+
+
+<p>Duvall's ride back to town with Mrs. Morton and Ruth was quite
+uneventful. The latter, as she had explained, was ill, weak, indisposed
+to talk. Duvall and Mrs. Morton kept up a brisk conversation upon topics
+of the day, but both knew that it was of the girl they were thinking,
+and their interest in the subjects they discussed was clearly forced.
+Both were glad when the car at last stopped before the apartment
+building, and the long ride was over.</p>
+
+<p>Mrs. Morton invited Duvall to come in and dine with them, and he
+promptly accepted. Ruth seemed indifferent. Assisted by her maid, she
+left the car and on reaching the apartment, at once went to her room.</p>
+
+<p>"You will excuse me, I know," she said to Duvall. "I am tired out, and
+think I had better lie down at once. <a name="nora" id="nora"></a>Nora will bring me some dinner,"
+she said, turning to her mother.</p>
+
+<p>Duvall and Mrs. Morton ate their dinner in silence. Some sense of
+oppression, of impending evil, hung over them both. Mrs. Morton left the
+table toward the close of the meal, and went to her daughter's room.
+With the solicitude of the typical mother she arranged the windows. That
+opening to the fire escape she raised to its full height. The one facing
+upon the court she left as it was, raised some six or eight inches.
+Then, having kissed her daughter good night, she returned to the
+library, where Duvall sat smoking a cigar.</p>
+
+<p>"Ruth has gone to bed," she told him. "Both the windows in her room are
+open, the one on the fire-escape wide, the other partly raised."</p>
+
+<p>Duvall looked at her with an expression of doubt.</p>
+
+<p>"I think it would be better, for the present," he said, "to close and
+fasten the one opening on the fire escape. We cannot tell to what danger
+your daughter may be exposed."</p>
+
+<p>Mrs. Morton rose and left the room.</p>
+
+<p>"I will do as you advise," she said. Going to Ruth's bedroom she closed
+and fastened the window in question, then she went back to the library.</p>
+
+<p>"Have you hit upon any theory to account for the sending of these
+letters?" she asked.</p>
+
+<p>Duvall shook his head. "The whole thing is very mysterious," he said.
+"Of course it was easy enough for anyone to leave the photograph at the
+studio this afternoon. In fact it might readily have been done by one of
+the other actresses, who might be jealous of your daughter's success.
+But if the thing was done by anyone employed at the studio, how can we
+account for the message left in the bedroom at half-past nine this
+morning, the one we found on the floor? If the woman who is responsible
+for these threats was at the studio this morning, how could she arrange
+to have the note left in your daughter's bedroom here at the same hour?
+That would seem to imply a confederate. I confess that the entire matter
+is for the moment beyond me."</p>
+
+<p>"Were you able to find out anything concerning the telegram which came
+this morning?"</p>
+
+<p>"Nothing, except that it was sent by a woman. I was not surprised to
+learn that. Naturally I should expect that a woman was responsible for
+these threats. But what woman? That is the question." He sat for a long
+time, thinking, his eyes fixed upon the floor.</p>
+
+<p>Suddenly there came a ring at the doorbell. Mrs. Morton, without waiting
+for the maid, sprang to the hall, with Duvall close at her heels. As she
+threw it open, they saw a man standing in the doorway. Duvall was the
+first to recognize their caller.</p>
+
+<p>"How do you do, Mr. Baker," he said, holding out his hand.</p>
+
+<p>Mr. Baker came in, and greeted Mrs. Morton.</p>
+
+<p>"I didn't expect to find Mr. Duvall here," he said. "In fact, I came to
+you to get his hotel address. Luckily I won't need it, now."</p>
+
+<p>"Anything new?" Duvall asked, as they returned to the library.</p>
+
+<p>"Nothing much. I got those samples of the writing of the various
+typewriters, as you requested," Baker replied, "and I thought that
+instead of waiting until to-morrow, it would be better to bring them to
+you to-night." He took a sheaf of papers from his pocket. "There are
+thirty-two in all. What are you going to do with them?" He placed the
+papers in Duvall's hand.</p>
+
+<p>The latter sat down at the library table and placed the sheets of paper
+before him.</p>
+
+<p>"Of course you know," he said to Baker, "that every typewriting machine
+has its unmistakable peculiarities. It is almost impossible to find a
+machine that has been used at all, that has not developed certain
+individual defects, or qualities, found in no other machine. Now let us
+take for instance the letters that Miss Morton has received during the
+past few days. They have all been written on the same machine, and I am
+of the opinion that it is a fairly old one. While going down to the
+studio this afternoon, I worked out and wrote down in my notebook the
+particular features which appear in all these letters." He took a small
+leather-covered book from his pocket.</p>
+
+<p>"In the first place," he said, "the letter 'a' throughout the several
+communications is always found to be out of line. The key bar is
+doubtless a trifle bent. Let us, therefore, see if, in any of the
+samples you have brought me, there exists a similar defect."</p>
+
+<p>He took the samples of writing, one by one, and after scrutinizing them
+carefully, passed them over to Baker, who likewise subjected them to a
+critical examination. When their work was completed, it was found that
+of the thirty-two samples, the displacement of the letter "a" occurred
+in but three, and in one of these it was so slight as to be scarcely
+noticeable. Duvall laid the three pages to one side. "A second fault
+shown in the typewriting of the letters," he said, "is to be found in
+the capital 'W.' Its lower right-hand corner has been worn or broken
+off, so that it invariably fails to register." He handed one of the
+letters to Baker. "See here, and here. The corner of the 'W' instead of
+being clear and distinct, is blunt and defective. Let us see whether a
+similar fault is to be found in any one of these three samples." He
+picked up the three sheets of paper that he had placed to one side.</p>
+
+<p>As he examined them, Mr. Baker and Mrs. Morton saw a shadow of
+disappointment cross his face. He handed the three pages to Baker.</p>
+
+<p>"The threatening letters were not written on any machine at your
+studio," he said.</p>
+
+<p>Baker took the pages and looked them over carefully.</p>
+
+<p>"No," he said at length. "You are right. None of these show the second
+defect you have named."</p>
+
+<p>"Well," observed Duvall cheerfully, "we have accomplished something, at
+least. We know that these letters were not written at the studio, and it
+seems reasonably certain that the woman we are looking for has a
+typewriter in her rooms, or wherever she may live. Of course she might
+have had the typewriting done by some public stenographer, but I
+consider it unlikely. A person sending threats of this character would
+not be apt to entrust so dangerous a secret to a third person. We must
+therefore make up our minds to find a woman who has a typewriting
+machine, and knows how to use it."</p>
+
+<p>"There are probably a hundred thousand such women in New York," Baker
+observed, gloomily.</p>
+
+<p>"No doubt. But we have more information than that about the person who
+sent these letters."</p>
+
+<p>"What, for instance?" asked Baker and Mrs. Morton in a breath.</p>
+
+<p>"Well, in the first place, this woman was able to secure possession of a
+photograph of Miss Morton." He took the hideously distorted picture from
+his pocket. "Do either of you know where this photograph was made?"</p>
+
+<p>Mrs. Morton examined the picture with a shudder. Then she rose, went to
+a cabinet at the other end of the room, and took out an album. Returning
+to the table, she placed the book before her, and began to turn the
+pages. In a few moments she found what she was looking for, a duplicate
+of the likeness which lay before them, with the exception, of course, of
+its frightful distortions.</p>
+
+<p>"This picture was made by Gibson, on Fifth Avenue," she said, referring
+to the photograph in the book. Both Baker and Duvall saw at once that on
+the retouched picture, the name of the photographer had been scratched
+off.</p>
+
+<p>"How many of them were made, and what became of them?" Duvall asked
+quickly.</p>
+
+<p>"Ordinarily I could not answer such a question," Mrs. Morton replied,
+"for Ruth has had many photographs taken, and we have not of course kept
+a record of them, or what has become of them, but in this particular
+case I happen to remember that she did not like the pose particularly,
+and ordered but half a dozen. I do not think that she gave any of them
+away. If I am right in my supposition, there should be five more here in
+the apartment." Closing the book, Mrs. Morton went to the cabinet again,
+and took out a portfolio containing numberless photographs of her
+daughter in all sorts of poses.</p>
+
+<p>After some searching, she produced a brown-paper envelope, containing a
+number of pictures, all taken by the same photographer, at the same
+time. There were in the envelope four copies of the photograph, the
+fifth of which was contained in the album.</p>
+
+<p>"Evidently one has been given away," Duvall exclaimed. "Now if we can
+only find out to whom, our search for the writer of these letters may be
+very quickly ended."</p>
+
+<p>Mr. Baker regarded them both with a puzzled look.</p>
+
+<p>"I have seen that picture before," he said, "and of course I could not
+have done so, had I not seen the one that is missing." He sat for a
+while in silence, searching his recollection for a solution of the
+problem. Suddenly he spoke. "There was a picture like that in my office,
+at one time," he exclaimed. "Miss Morton sent a number down, for
+advertising purposes, and I am positive that this one was among them. I
+remember distinctly the pose of the head, the unusual arrangement of the
+hair. That photograph should be in our files. The fact that it has been
+taken out shows that the person who has been writing these letters is a
+member of our own staff, or at least has access to our files."</p>
+
+<p>"That does not necessarily follow," observed Duvall.</p>
+
+<p>"Why not?"</p>
+
+<p>"Because the picture might have been obtained from the photographer."</p>
+
+<p>"But they are not allowed to dispose of the portraits of others, without
+the sitter's permission."</p>
+
+<p>"I know that, but they sometimes do so, especially in the case of anyone
+so well known as Miss Morton. She has become a sort of public <a name="character" id="character"></a>character.</p>
+
+<p>"Well," remarked Duvall, "we can readily find out, in the morning. You,
+Mr. Baker, can go through your files, and should you find the photograph
+to be there, I will take the matter up with the photographer. If, on the
+contrary, the picture is missing, it will be fairly conclusive evidence
+that the person or persons we are looking for are in some way connected
+with the studio."</p>
+
+<p>"I will make an investigation the first thing in the morning," Mr. Baker
+announced, rising. "Do you expect to be at the studio early, Mr.
+Duvall?"</p>
+
+<p>"Yes. Quite early."</p>
+
+<p>"Then we had best leave matters until then. Good night. Good night, Mrs.
+Morton." He turned and started toward the door.</p>
+
+<p>He had proceeded but a few steps, when the three occupants of the room
+were startled by a series of sudden and agonizing cries. From the rear
+of the apartment came a succession of screams so piercing in their
+intensity, so filled with horror, that they found themselves for a
+moment unable to stir. Then Mrs. Morton gave a cry of anguish, and
+darted out into the hall, closely followed by Duvall and Mr. Baker.</p>
+
+<p>The screams continued, filling the entire apartment with their clamor.
+That the voice which uttered them was that of Ruth Morton none of the
+three doubted for a moment. With sinking hearts they went on, prepared
+for the worst. Duvall found himself dreading the moment when they should
+reach the bedroom door, and face the girl, her beauty, perhaps,
+disfigured beyond all recognition.</p>
+
+<p>There was a sharp turn, at the end of the hall, into a shorter cross
+hall, at the end of which was the door of Ruth's bedroom. It was closed,
+but as though in response to Mrs. Morton's agonized appeals, it suddenly
+opened as they reached it, and Ruth Morton, pale as death, appeared.</p>
+
+<p>With wide open eyes staring straight ahead, she half stepped, half fell
+through the doorway, her slender figure clothed only in her night dress.
+"Ruth," Mrs. Morton screamed, as she caught sight of her daughter.</p>
+
+<p>The girl tried to say something, but her tongue failed her. Then, with a
+faint moan, she lurched forward and fell limply into her mother's arms.</p>
+
+<br />
+
+<h2><a name="PART_II" id="PART_II"></a>PART II</h2>
+<h2><a name="CHAPTER_VII" id="CHAPTER_VII"></a>CHAPTER VII</h2>
+
+
+<p>When Duvall, Mr. Baker, of the motion picture company, and Mrs. Morton
+rushed down the hallway of the latter's apartment in response to the
+screams from Ruth's bedroom, they were one and all convinced that the
+girl had suffered some terrible injury&mdash;that the mysterious threats to
+destroy her beauty which had been made during the past few days had been
+converted into some frightful reality.</p>
+
+<p>One glance at the girl's white face as she fell fainting into her
+mother's arms told the detective that their fears had been, to that
+extent at least, groundless. The girl's lovely features, although drawn
+and contorted by fear, showed no signs of the disfigurement they feared.</p>
+
+<p>Leaving the girl to her mother's care, Duvall, closely followed by
+Baker, dashed into the bedroom, and at once switched on the lights. The
+place, to the intense surprise of both, presented a picture of perfect
+quiet and order. The bed clothing was slightly disarranged, but this of
+course was but natural, since Ruth had sprung up under the influence of
+some terrible fear, and rushed from the room. Everything else seemed in
+its place.</p>
+
+<p>Duvall's first act was to examine the window. The one fronting on the
+fire escape was closed and tightly fastened. It was perfectly clear that
+no one had entered the room in that way.</p>
+
+<p>The other window, facing on the court, was raised a few inches, just as
+Mrs. Morton had left it half an hour before. Duvall turned to his
+companion with a <a name="puzzled" id="puzzled"></a>puzzled frown.</p>
+
+<p>"I had supposed, Mr. Baker," he said, "that someone had entered this
+room, and frightened Miss Morton while she was asleep, but that is
+impossible. The windows have not been disturbed."</p>
+
+<p>Baker glanced at the one which faced the court.</p>
+
+<p>"That one may have been," he said, indicating it with a nod. "Someone
+may have come in that way, raising the window to effect an entrance, and
+lowering it again after leaving."</p>
+
+<p>"I admit that what you say would be possible, were there any way in
+which the window might be reached from outside," Duvall replied, "but if
+you will look out, and tell me how anyone could make an entrance from
+the court, I will agree to the possibility you suggest."</p>
+
+<p>Baker raised the window, and glanced out.</p>
+
+<p>"The apartment above," Duvall went on, "is unoccupied, and the window
+above is closed and fastened. The little attic in the adjoining house is
+unused, although that is not important, since no one could reach this
+window from it, in any event. Can you suggest any other way?"</p>
+
+<p>Mr. Baker shook his head.</p>
+
+<p>"She must have been frightened by some terrible nightmare," he said. "I
+do not wonder at it. She has gone through enough to upset anybody's
+nerves. Suppose we go back and question her."</p>
+
+<p>"Just a moment," exclaimed Duvall. Then he dropped upon his knees beside
+the disordered bed, and began to examine the surface of the counterpane
+with minute care.</p>
+
+<p>"What is it?" Baker asked, joining him.</p>
+
+<p>"I don't know&mdash;yet," returned Duvall, as he took a magnifying glass from
+his pocket and proceeded to scrutinize with the greatest interest some
+marks upon the counterpane's surface. Presently he rose, replaced the
+glass in his pocket, and turned to his companion.</p>
+
+<p>"There is something very astonishing about this whole affair," he
+exclaimed. "What do you make of those?" He indicated a series of dark
+smudges upon the bedspread, arranged in little groups.</p>
+
+<p>Baker bent over and examined the marks with an exclamation of surprise.</p>
+
+<p>"Why&mdash;they look like finger prints," he cried. "Large finger prints."</p>
+
+<p>"It is impossible to say whether they are finger prints or not," Duvall
+replied. "As you see, there are a great many of them, very confusingly
+arranged. But there is something else, that you have not noticed. What
+do you suppose could have made a mark like this?" He pointed to a long
+straight dark line, which extended half way across the counterpane, and
+pointed directly toward the window which faced upon the court. The line
+was very faint, but clearly defined, as though someone had laid a thin
+dusty stick across the bed.</p>
+
+<p>"I can't make anything of it," Baker exclaimed, gazing toward the
+window.</p>
+
+<p>"Nor can I," said Duvall. "At one time, because of certain indentations
+on the letters found in this room, I had thought that they might have
+been introduced through the partly opened window by means of a long rod,
+a fishing pole, perhaps. This mark on the counterpane appears to bear
+out that theory. The smudges which look like finger prints may have been
+merely the points at which the end of the pole, or whatever was attached
+to the end of the pole, came in contact with the bed. All that is
+perfectly supposable. But you can see for yourself that if a long pole
+were thrust through the window, raised as the latter was but a trifle
+above the level of the bed, the other end of such a pole must of
+necessity have been held at approximately the same level, and the only
+point outside the window from which it could have been so held is <i>in
+the air, forty feet above the bottom of the court</i>! The thing is
+absurd."</p>
+
+<p>"There is, of course, the window of the apartment below," Baker
+suggested. "Might not it have been used?"</p>
+
+<p>"I thought of that," Duvall replied. "You can see for yourself that even
+a tall man standing on the window sill below, would find not only his
+hands, but even his head, far below the sill of this <a name="window" id="window"></a>window, nor could
+anyone so support themselves, without something to hold on to. But all
+that is beside the question. The people in the apartment below are
+friends of Mrs. Morton's, a middle-aged man and his wife, with two young
+children. They are eminently respectable people, and quite above
+suspicion."</p>
+
+<p>"Then I give the thing up," exclaimed Baker. "Suppose we have a talk
+with Miss Morton."</p>
+
+<p>They found the girl lying on a couch in the library, with her mother
+sitting beside her. She seemed very weak and quiet, but in full
+possession of her faculties. Duvall drew up a chair, and asked her if
+she felt able to tell them what had occurred.</p>
+
+<p>"Yes," she replied in a faint voice, her face still showing evidences of
+her fright. "I will try to tell you exactly what happened."</p>
+
+<p>"I had taken some medicine to make me sleep, before I got into bed,
+because I was very nervous and upset. When mother came back to fix the
+windows I was already drowsy, and just remember that she turned out the
+lights, and then I must have dozed.</p>
+
+<p>"All of a sudden I heard a strange rasping noise, and I woke up, with
+the feeling that there was someone in the room. I don't know just why I
+felt so sure of that, whether it was merely a sense of someone's
+presence, or the sound of someone moving about near my bed. I think,
+however, that it was the latter.</p>
+
+<p>"The room was dark, of course, but enough light came through the windows
+to make a moving object distinguishable. I looked about, terribly
+frightened, but for a moment I saw nothing. The noise I had heard at
+first continued. Then without the least warning, a hand seemed to clutch
+at the bedclothes, and I saw above me, bending over me, a terrible dark
+face, exactly like the grinning death's head on those letters I've been
+getting.</p>
+
+<p>"I lay perfectly still, frozen with horror, and in a moment the face had
+disappeared, and then I began to scream. Right after that I sprang from
+the bed and threw open the door, and found mother and Mr. Baker and
+yourself standing in the hall. That is all I know."</p>
+
+<p>Duvall looked at her for a moment, puzzled.</p>
+
+<p>"Are you sure you really saw someone leaning over you? Might it not have
+been an illusion, the result of your nervous condition?"</p>
+
+<p>"No. I am certain someone was there&mdash;someone quite tall, I should say,
+and with a terrible, evil face."</p>
+
+<p>"It might have been a mask, of course," Duvall suggested. "Someone
+wearing a mask."</p>
+
+<p>"Yes. It might have been. It was too dark for me to tell, of course. But
+I remember the eyes, for I saw them distinctly. They were only a few
+inches from my own." She put her hands to her face and shuddered. "It
+was terrible, terrible. I shall never sleep in that room again."</p>
+
+<p>"There&mdash;there, dearie," Mrs. Morton whispered in a soothing voice. "You
+need not sleep there. You can lie right here, for the rest of the night,
+and I will stay with you and see that no one harms you."</p>
+
+<p>"That would be best, Mrs. Morton," Duvall remarked. "And to-morrow I
+suggest that you and your daughter move, temporarily at least, to
+another location. Some quiet hotel, where you will not be subject to
+these terrible annoyances. I cannot imagine how it is done, but in some
+way, some almost superhuman way, it seems, someone can apparently either
+enter your daughter's room, or at least reach it from without, at will."</p>
+
+<p>"What do you mean by that?" asked Ruth, somewhat mystified.</p>
+
+<p>"I mean this, Miss Morton. I do not believe that there was anyone in
+your room to-night. I do not believe that there has ever been anyone
+there. But I <i>do</i> believe that the two letters we found there were
+introduced from without, in some mysterious way, at the end of a long
+pole, or rod. And I think that what frightened you so to-night was
+merely a mask, a grotesque representation of the seal used on the
+letters, and pushed toward you in some way, as you lay in bed for the
+purpose of terrifying you."</p>
+
+<p>"But&mdash;why&mdash;why?" the girl cried.</p>
+
+<p>"I cannot say. But it has occurred to me that these people, whoever they
+are, that are trying to injure you, may not intend any physical violence
+at all, at least for the present, but may be depending solely upon the
+terrible and insidious power of suggestion. You must bear this
+possibility in mind, and try to control your fears. I can readily
+believe that thirty days of this sort of persecution, and you would be a
+physical and mental wreck. But we shall stop it. You need have no fears
+on that score." Mrs. Morton turned to her daughter with a few words of
+explanation.</p>
+
+<p>"Mr. Richards, or rather, Mr. Duvall, is not a newspaper man, Ruth, but
+a detective, who is trying to bring the wretches who are annoying you to
+justice. I feel every confidence in him."</p>
+
+<p>Ruth turned toward Duvall a very white and pathetic face.</p>
+
+<p>"I hope you will succeed, Mr. Duvall," she said, in a weak voice. "I
+cannot stand much more."</p>
+
+<p>"I shall, Miss Morton. And now," he turned to Mr. Baker, "I think we had
+better go, and let Miss Morton get some rest. I will come here in the
+morning, Mrs. Morton," he continued, addressing the girl's mother, "and
+we will consider further the question of your moving to a hotel.
+Meanwhile I do not think you have anything further to fear this evening.
+Good night."</p>
+
+<p>Before leaving the apartment he made another examination of the marks
+upon the bedclothes, then closed and fastened both windows, and locked
+the door of the room.</p>
+
+<p>Mr. Baker left him at the corner.</p>
+
+<p>"You will come to the studio to-morrow, of course."</p>
+
+<p>"By all means. I shall come down with Miss Morton and her mother. That
+will give us an opportunity to investigate further the matter of the
+missing photograph, and also to talk over that plan I had in mind
+concerning the new film you are to show at the Grand to-morrow night. It
+is barely possible that, by means of a plan I have in mind, we may be
+able to locate the person or persons responsible for all this trouble."</p>
+
+<p>"I certainly hope so," said Baker, as he took his leave. "This thing is
+getting on <i>my</i> nerves, too."</p>
+
+<p>Duvall made his way back to his hotel, as much mystified as ever. He had
+thought for a moment of spending the night on the sidewalk in front of
+the Mortons' apartment, watching the windows facing on the court, but
+his experience told him that it would be useless. The alarm which Ruth
+had made, the closing of the windows of her bedroom, the locking of the
+door, all made it highly improbable that any further attempt would be
+made to annoy her during the night. He walked along in a state of
+intense preoccupation, trying to discover some reasonable explanation of
+the astonishing events of the day.</p>
+
+<p>Once he had an impression, a feeling, that he was being followed, but
+when he turned around, there was no one in sight but a slightly tipsy
+man, and a couple of young girls, far down the street. He dismissed the
+thought from his mind, and proceeded to his hotel.</p>
+
+<p>It was not yet eleven o'clock, and Grace was waiting for him in the
+little parlor of their suite.</p>
+
+<p>"Well, Richard," she remarked, as he came in, "you've had quite a day of
+it."</p>
+
+<p>"Yes, quite," he replied, throwing himself into a chair. "What have
+<i>you</i> been doing with yourself?"</p>
+
+<p>"Shopping, mostly. I found it rather dull. I went to a moving picture
+this afternoon. Saw your friend Ruth Morton. She certainly is a very
+beautiful girl."</p>
+
+<p>"Yes&mdash;very," Duvall replied, absently.</p>
+
+<p>"Have you seen her to-day?" Grace went on, with a smile.</p>
+
+<p>"Yes. Why?"</p>
+
+<p>"Oh&mdash;nothing. I was just thinking."</p>
+
+<p>Duvall burst into a laugh, and rising, went over to his wife and kissed
+her.</p>
+
+<p>"For heaven's sake, Grace," he said, "don't be silly. I'm not interested
+in motion picture actresses."</p>
+
+<p>"You weren't, I'll admit, nor in motion pictures either, until recently,
+but perhaps you have changed. I could understand any man being
+fascinated by a girl like Ruth Morton."</p>
+
+<p>Duvall did not pursue the question. It was a hard and fast rule between
+them not to discuss his professional work. And Mrs. Morton had made it a
+point that he should confide in no one, not even his wife.</p>
+
+<p>"Well," he said, picking up an evening paper, "I'm not fascinated yet.
+No letters for me to-day, I suppose."</p>
+
+<p>"None." Grace went on with her sewing.</p>
+
+<p>They sat for a while in silence. Presently there came a knock on the
+door, and a boy appeared, bearing a telegram, Duvall opened it
+carelessly, thinking it some word from the overseer of his farm. He sat
+up with sudden astonishment as he read the contents of the message.</p>
+
+<p>"Keep out," the telegram read, "or you will find that we can strike
+back."</p>
+
+<p>Duvall placed the telegram in his pocket with a frown. So it appeared
+that in spite of all his care, his connection with the case was known.
+How this was possible he could not imagine. His first visit to the
+Morton apartment that day had been in the guise of a workman. His
+subsequent appearance at the studio, and later, at the apartment, had
+been in the character of a newspaper man. There was only one
+explanation. Someone had watched him while he was making his examination
+of Ruth Morton's room, and, subsequently, had followed him from the
+apartment to his hotel. He began to realize that he was dealing with a
+shrewd brain, and one that acted with almost uncanny quickness and
+precision. He determined that, if Mrs. Morton and her daughter changed
+their place of residence the following day, he would do the same. He
+said nothing of his intentions to Grace, however. It was more than ever
+necessary that he preserve secrecy in this case.</p>
+
+<p>"No bad news, I hope, Richard," Grace remarked, glancing up from her
+sewing.</p>
+
+<p>"No. Nothing serious. Have you heard anything from home?"</p>
+
+<p>"Yes. Everything is going along quite smoothly. The boy is well and
+happy, and Mrs. Preston says to stay as long as we want to."</p>
+
+<p>"Well," said Duvall, rising and throwing down his newspaper, "if things
+don't go better than they have been going to-day, I may have to be here
+some <a name="time" id="time"></a>time. I've got a queer case on, Grace. I'd like to tell you about
+it, but I can't. But it is quite unusual. Some features to it that I
+have never met before."</p>
+
+<p>"Oh&mdash;I wish I might help you," Grace exclaimed. "You know how often I
+have done so in the past."</p>
+
+<p>"I know, dear. But I am bound to secrecy, for the present at least.
+Suppose we turn in now. I've got to get up early."</p>
+
+<p>"All right," Grace said. "But if you need my help, don't hesitate to ask
+me. To tell you the truth, I'm having an awfully slow time."</p>
+
+<br />
+
+<h2><a name="CHAPTER_VIII" id="CHAPTER_VIII"></a>CHAPTER VIII</h2>
+
+
+<p>Duvall made his appearance at the Morton apartment the following morning
+in his ordinary guise. It was his intention, when the time came, to
+disappear from the case in his normal person, to reappear in it, later,
+in a complete disguise. But that time, he felt, had not yet arrived.</p>
+
+<p>Mrs. Morton received him in fairly good spirits. Her daughter, she said,
+had had a restful night, in spite of her terrible experience. When Ruth
+rose from the breakfast table to greet him, he was gratified to find
+that she showed no great traces of the fright of the evening before.</p>
+
+<p>"I'm feeling almost myself again, Mr. Duvall," she said. "I've made up
+my mind not to let these people frighten me again."</p>
+
+<p>"Nothing further occurred last night, of course," Duvall asked.</p>
+
+<p><a name="nothing" id="nothing"></a>"Nothing," replied Mrs. Morton. "I could almost believe the whole thing
+a horrible dream." They did not touch on the question of going to a
+hotel, during the short interval that elapsed before they set out for
+the studio. Duvall was anxious to see Mr. Baker. He hoped sincerely that
+by means of the photograph which had been in the company's files, some
+trace of the persons responsible for the threats might be obtained.</p>
+
+<p>The trip to the studio was made most uneventfully, and Ruth started in
+with her work in very good spirits. Duvall, leaving the girl with her
+mother, sought out Mr. Baker in the latter's private office.</p>
+
+<p>"Hello!" Baker cried, grasping the detective's hand warmly. "Anything
+new?"</p>
+
+<p>"Not a thing. How about the photograph we were going to trace?"</p>
+
+<p>Mr. Baker frowned.</p>
+
+<p>"It's a curious thing," he replied. "Most curious. The picture in
+question was, I find, taken from the files by Mr. Moore, our president,
+and placed on his desk. He always admired it, and kept it there, along
+with a number of others, to show to persons calling upon him. Now, it
+seems, it has disappeared. There is not the slightest trace of it."
+"But," Duvall objected, "who could have taken it?"</p>
+
+<p>"A dozen people. Half a hundred, I guess. You see, Mr. Moore's office is
+a big room, just beyond here." He rose, and led the detective through a
+short corridor. "Here it is," he went on, throwing open the door. "This
+is where Mr. Moore receives his <a name="callers" id="callers"></a>callers. It is his reception room, and
+no private papers are kept here. Those are all in the smaller office
+adjoining. This room is open at any time. After Mr. Moore leaves in the
+evening, and he often leaves early, anyone might come in here. And when
+the offices are closed, at night, I suppose any employee of the company
+might look in, if he cared to do so, without anyone objecting. You see,
+this is a sort of public room. The inner office is always kept locked,
+but there has never seemed to be any good reason for locking this one."</p>
+
+<p>"Still, although you cannot tell who has taken the picture, it seems
+clear enough that it must have been removed by some one employed in the
+studio."</p>
+
+<p>"Even that is by no means certain. So many people come here every day.
+All sorts of visitors, writers, actors, and the like. After business
+hours I don't doubt any number of persons enter this room, to look at
+the pictures of our great successes that hang on its walls. And then
+there are the caretakers, the scrub-women, and their friends. I find
+that they, many of them, bring in outsiders, after working hours, to
+look at the studio, and the famous offices. Of course it should not be,
+and it will not be, in the future, but up to now we have rather welcomed
+people from outside. It seemed good advertising."</p>
+
+<p>Duvall followed his companion back to his office.</p>
+
+<p>"Then this clue, like all the others in this singular case," he
+remarked, "seems to end in a blind alley."</p>
+
+<p>"It seems so," assented Mr. Baker, gloomily. "What was your plan about
+the new film we're going to show to-night?"</p>
+
+<p>Duvall was about to speak, but before he could do so, they heard a
+slight commotion in the hall outside. Then someone rapped violently on
+the door.</p>
+
+<p>Both he and Baker sprang to their feet.</p>
+
+<p>"Come in," the latter cried.</p>
+
+<p>The door was flung open, and Mr. Edwards, the director, who was making
+the picture upon which Ruth Morton was working, strode hastily into the
+room. "Mr. Baker!" he exclaimed, then paused upon seeing Duvall.</p>
+
+<p>"What is it?" Baker replied.</p>
+
+<p>"Will you look here a minute, please?"</p>
+
+<p>Baker went up to him, his face showing the greatest uneasiness.</p>
+
+<p>"What's the matter?" he asked. "Anything wrong?"</p>
+
+<p>"Yes. Miss Morton was going through the scene in the first part, where
+she gets the telegram, you know, and when she opened the message, and
+read it, she fainted."</p>
+
+<p>"Fainted? What was in the telegram to make her faint?"</p>
+
+<p>"Well, it ought to have read, 'Will call for you to-night, with marriage
+license&mdash;Jimmy.' That was the prop message we had prepared. But somebody
+must have substituted another one for it. This is what she read." He
+handed Baker a yellow slip of paper. "I can't make anything out of it."</p>
+
+<p>Baker snatched the telegram from his hand with a growl of rage, and read
+it hastily. Then he passed it over to Duvall.</p>
+
+<p>"What do you think of that?" he asked. Duvall gazed at the telegram with
+a feeling of helpless anger.</p>
+
+<p>"Twenty-six days more," it read. "When you appear in your new picture at
+the Grand to-night, <a name="itwill" id="itwill"></a>it will be your last. I shall be there." The grinning
+death's head seal was appended in lieu of a signature, as before.</p>
+
+<p>A feeling of resentment swept over the detective. It seemed that these
+people acted as they saw fit, with supreme indifference to the fact that
+he was on their trail. Never before had he felt his skill so flouted,
+his ability made so light of. And yet, as usual, the message had
+apparently been delivered in such a way as to make tracing it
+impossible.</p>
+
+<p>"Still at it, it seems," Mr. Baker remarked. "This thing has got to
+stop, and at once. I don't propose to let anybody make a monkey of me."</p>
+
+<p>Duvall turned to the director, Mr. Edwards.</p>
+
+<p>"Who prepared the original telegram?" he asked quickly.</p>
+
+<p>Mr. Edwards looked at the detective in surprise, evidently wondering
+what this stranger had to do with the matter.</p>
+
+<p>"Answer, Edwards. It's all right," snapped Mr. Baker.</p>
+
+<p>"I prepared the property telegram," the director answered.</p>
+
+<p>"When?"</p>
+
+<p>"Last <a name="night" id="night"></a>night. I knew it would be needed to-day."</p>
+
+<p>"What did you do with it?"</p>
+
+<p>"I left it on my desk. This morning I took it into the studio, and when
+the moment arrived, I gave it to the actor who took it to Miss <a name="morton" id="morton"></a>Morton."</p>
+
+<p>"Was he out of your sight, after you gave him the telegram?"</p>
+
+<p>"No. He took it and walked right on the scene."</p>
+
+<p>"Then he couldn't have substituted another for it?"</p>
+
+<p>"No. It would have been impossible, unless he used sleight of hand."</p>
+
+<p>"Before you gave the man the telegram where was it?"</p>
+
+<p>"In my coat pocket."</p>
+
+<p>"No chance, I suppose, of anyone having taken it out and substituting
+another."</p>
+
+<p>"None."</p>
+
+<p>"Then it is clear that the substitution must have been effected between
+the time you left your office last night, and your arrival here this
+morning."</p>
+
+<p>"Yes."</p>
+
+<p>"Was this possible?"</p>
+
+<p>"Undoubtedly. I left my office last night about six. It is never locked.
+The caretakers, the women who clean the offices, were in there later,
+and from seven to nine this morning it would also have been a simple
+matter for anyone to enter and make the change."</p>
+
+<p>Duvall turned to Mr. Baker.</p>
+
+<p>"It's the same story," he said. "Someone who works in the building is
+responsible for this thing, or else is able to bribe one or more of your
+employees to act for them. But we won't get very far looking for the
+guilty person, with several hundred people to watch and no clues
+whatever to go on. Suppose we go back to your office, and I will tell
+you what I had in mind about this evening."</p>
+
+<p>"Is Miss Morton able to go on with the scene?" Baker asked, as Edwards
+started away.</p>
+
+<p>"No. She seems all broken up. I don't think she is very well. Her mother
+is going to take her home, as soon as she feels better."</p>
+
+<p>"Will you ask Mrs. Morton to wait a little while, Mr. Edwards? Tell her
+that Mr. Duvall will join her presently, and go back to the city with
+her." Mr. Edwards nodded, and withdrew, and Duvall and Mr. Baker retired
+to the latter's private office.</p>
+
+<p>"What did you have in mind about that new film we're going to release
+to-night?" Mr. Baker asked.</p>
+
+<p>"I'll explain that presently. First, tell me how long it will take you
+to make a short section of film, say enough to show for about ten
+seconds?"</p>
+
+<p>"Oh&mdash;not long. But what of?"</p>
+
+<p>"I'll explain that presently. But you could make such a section of film,
+develop and print it, and insert it in the picture you are going to show
+to-night, if you had to, couldn't you?"</p>
+
+<p>"Yes&mdash;if we had to. But what's the idea?"</p>
+
+<p>Duvall took a bit of paper from his pocket and handed it to Baker.</p>
+
+<p>"I want you to make a picture of this, and have it inserted in the film
+at any convenient point&mdash;say at the beginning of the second part. And
+you had better have the cutting and pasting-in done by some trusted
+person, under your personal supervision."</p>
+
+<p>"But," said Baker, gazing in amazement at the bit of paper Duvall had
+handed him. "What's the idea of putting this in our picture? It wouldn't
+do at all."</p>
+
+<p>"Look at that telegram Mr. Edwards just gave you. The writer says in it,
+'I shall be there.' Now if the person who is causing all this trouble is
+going to be in the audience at the Grand Theater to-night, it is our
+business to find her. I say her, because I am convinced the guilty
+person is a woman."</p>
+
+<p>A look of comprehension began to dawn upon Mr. Baker's face.</p>
+
+<p>"By George!" he exclaimed. "You figure out that this will cause her to
+disclose herself&mdash;make some sign?"</p>
+
+<p>"I feel certain of it."</p>
+
+<p>"Then we will put it in." He laid the square of paper on his desk. "I
+will have the section of film made privately, and at once. I shall not
+tell even the other officers of the company about it. I suppose they
+will give me the devil, until after they know the reasons for it, but
+then, of course, it will be all right."</p>
+
+<p>Duvall rose and put out his hand.</p>
+
+<p>"You will be there to-night, of course?"</p>
+
+<p>"Of course. And you?"</p>
+
+<p>"Oh, I'll be on hand all right, although you may not recognize me. Good
+day." With a quick hand-shake he left the room, and went to look for
+Ruth and her mother. He found them in the girl's dressing-room, ready to
+depart. Ruth was pale and terrified, showing the most intense
+nervousness in every word and movement. Mrs. Morton, scarcely less
+affected, strove with all her power to remain calm, in order that her
+daughter might not break down completely. Duvall did his best to cheer
+them up.</p>
+
+<p>"You must not let this thing prey on your mind, Miss Morton," he said.
+"We are going to put a stop to it, and that very soon."</p>
+
+<p>"I hope so, Mr. Duvall," the girl replied. "If you don't, I'm afraid I
+shall break down completely."</p>
+
+<p>"I think we had better go home at once," Mrs. Morton said. "Ruth is in
+no condition to do any more work to-day."</p>
+
+<p>"I quite agree with you about going, Mrs. Morton, but not home." He
+lowered his voice, as though fearing that even at that moment some tool
+of the woman who was sending the letters might be within earshot. "I
+suggest that you let me take your daughter to some quiet hotel. You can
+follow, with her maid and the necessary baggage, later on. But we must
+be certain to make the change in such a way that our enemies, who are
+undoubtedly watching us, will not know of it. We will all leave here in
+your car, giving out that we are going to your home. No one will suspect
+anything to the contrary. On our arrival in the city, your daughter and
+I will leave the car, and drive to the hotel in a taxicab. When, later
+on, you follow with the baggage, take a taxi, sending your own car to
+the garage. I know your confidence in your chauffeur, but in this affair
+we can afford to trust no one. Your daughter and yourself can remain
+quietly in the hotel, under an assumed name, for a few days, until she
+recovers her strength. Meanwhile, I have every expectation that the
+persons at the bottom of this shameful affair will have been caught."</p>
+
+<p>The plan appealed to Mrs. Morton at once, and she told the detective so.</p>
+
+<p>"But where shall we go to&mdash;what hotel?" she asked.</p>
+
+<p>Duvall leaned over and whispered in her ear the name of an exclusive and
+very quiet hotel in the upper part of the city.</p>
+
+<p>"Do not mention the name to anyone," he said, "not even to the taxicab
+driver, when you leave the house. Tell him to put you down at the
+corner, a block away, and do not proceed to the hotel until you see that
+he has driven off. And keep your eyes on your maid. I do not suspect
+her, I admit, but there seems to be a leak somewhere, and we must stop
+it."</p>
+
+<p>Mrs. Morton nodded, and rose.</p>
+
+<p>"We had better start, then," she said. "I understand perfectly. Have
+Ruth register in the name of Bradley. And I think, Mr. Duvall, if you
+can do so, you had better arrange to stop there as well."</p>
+
+<p>"I had intended to do so," the detective replied.</p>
+
+<p>"That will be better." Mrs. Morton led the way to the street.</p>
+
+<p>"You did not intend to go to the showing of your new film at the Grand
+to-night, did you?" Duvall asked Ruth, after they <a name="had" id="had"></a>had started away from
+the studio.</p>
+
+<p>"Yes, I had intended to go," she replied. "I always go to my first
+releases. But to-night I do not feel able to do so."</p>
+
+<p>"I think it is just as well. What you need most now is rest."</p>
+
+<p>The girl looked at herself in a small mirror affixed to the side of the
+car.</p>
+
+<p>"Oh," she exclaimed. "I look terrible. These people are right, it seems.
+Three more weeks of this persecution and my looks would be quite gone.
+Mr. Edwards told me only this morning that he had never seen me look so
+bad." There were tears in her eyes.</p>
+
+<p>Duvall realized that she spoke the truth. The effect of the strain upon
+her nervous system, the brutal shocks of the past two days, the horror
+of the experience of the night before, had wrought havoc with the girl's
+beauty. Her face, gray, lined, haggard, her eyes, heavy and drawn, made
+her the very opposite of the radiant creature that had created such a
+furore in motion picture circles. The methods of her persecutors, if
+unchecked, would beyond doubt wreck her strength and health in a short
+time, and in addition, there was the danger that at any moment a
+physical attack, a swiftly thrown acid bomb, an explosive mixture
+concealed in an innocent-looking package, might destroy both her beauty
+and her reason in one blinding flash. With the fear in her great brown
+eyes constantly before him, Duvall determined more than ever to free her
+from this terrible persecution.</p>
+
+<p>They separated in the neighborhood of 30th Street, Duvall and Miss
+Morton taking a taxicab that stood before one of the smaller Fifth
+Avenue hotels. He made a pretense of entering the hotel, and did not
+summon the taxi until Mrs. Morton's car was well out of sight up the
+Avenue. Then he instructed the driver to proceed first to his hotel.</p>
+
+<p>Their stop here was but momentary. Duvall went to his room, threw a few
+articles of clothing into his grip, left a note for Grace, telling her
+that he would be absent for several days, then rejoined his companion
+and drove uptown to the hotel opposite the park, the name of which he
+had mentioned to Mrs. Morton. He felt perfectly certain that they had
+not been followed.</p>
+
+<p>Upon arriving at the hotel, he entered their names, including that of
+Mrs. Morton, upon the register, using the pseudonym which that latter
+had suggested. Then, sending Ruth to her room, he asked to see the
+manager, and had a brief conference with him in private. Immediately
+thereafter, he went up to his own apartment.</p>
+
+<p>As he had arranged, it adjoined the suite selected for the Mortons. He
+tapped lightly on the communicating door.</p>
+
+<p>"Are you all right, Miss Morton?" he called.</p>
+
+<p>"Yes," came the girl's voice from the opposite side. "All right, thank
+you."</p>
+
+<br />
+
+<h2><a name="CHAPTER_IX" id="CHAPTER_IX"></a>CHAPTER IX</h2>
+
+
+<p>Grace Duvall said good-by to her husband that morning with very little
+enthusiasm. She was not jealous of him, she was too sensible a woman,
+and trusted him too fully for that. But his sudden interest in Ruth
+Morton, the charming motion picture star, seemed rather incomprehensible
+to her. Of course she suspected he was working on a case which concerned
+the girl although Duvall had neither affirmed nor denied it. But she
+felt lonely, and perhaps a trifle out of sorts, and found her solitary
+breakfasts, luncheons, dinners, a little trying. So often before, she
+and Richard had worked together. Why, she wondered, did he so pointedly
+exclude her from this case? She would have liked to talk it over with
+him.</p>
+
+<p>She sat rather disconsolately in her room most of the forenoon, and
+about one o'clock made ready for a lonely luncheon. She was just about
+to leave the apartment when the telephone bell rang. Grace hastened to
+it at once, hoping that the call might be from her husband. A woman's
+voice, low, firm, determined sounded in her ears.</p>
+
+<p>"I want to speak with Mr. Duvall," the voice said.</p>
+
+<p>"Mr. Duvall is out. This is Mrs. Duvall."</p>
+
+<p>"Very well, Mrs. Duvall. If you want to keep your husband from very
+serious harm, you had better tell him to steer clear of Ruth Morton's
+affairs in future. A word to the wise, you know. Good day." The speaker
+suddenly rang off.</p>
+
+<p>Grace turned from the telephone, her brain in a whirl. What danger
+threatened her husband? Ought she not to tell him of the message as soon
+as possible, so that he might be on his guard? And what did this
+mysterious reference to "Ruth Morton's affairs" <a name="mean" id="mean"></a>mean? Did it imply that
+Richard was in any way involved&mdash;but that was preposterous. She put the
+thought from her mind, and went down in the elevator to a lonely and not
+very enjoyable meal.</p>
+
+<p>As she left the dining-room, and passed through the lobby, she thought
+she saw ahead of her a familiar figure. A moment later she realized that
+it was Richard himself, walking very rapidly toward the main entrance,
+his satchel in his hand. Was he leaving the hotel? And if so, ought she
+not to make an attempt to give him the message she had just received,
+before he did so? She walked quickly after him, but his pace was so
+rapid that she reached the sidewalk only in time to see him swing
+himself into a waiting taxi, baggage in hand, and drive quickly off. But
+what Grace saw, in addition to this, filled her with queer misgivings.
+Beside her husband in the cab was a woman&mdash;very beautiful woman, whom
+Grace had no difficulty whatever in identifying as Ruth Morton. And she
+also noticed, in the brief moment that elapsed before the taxi shot
+toward the Avenue, that the woman seemed to be in tears, and that
+Richard leaned over with the utmost solicitude and affection and clasped
+her hand in his. For the first time in her life, Grace Duvall was
+actually jealous.</p>
+
+<p>Thoughts of possible danger to her husband, however, were paramount in
+her mind. Without an instant's hesitation she stepped into a second
+taxi, whose driver was trying to attract her attention, and told him to
+follow the car containing the man and woman which had just driven off.</p>
+
+<p>The chauffeur grinned knowingly, nodded, and started his car. His grin
+drove from Grace's mind her sudden and unaccustomed jealousy. She knew
+that Richard must be going away with this girl for some reason connected
+with his professional work. Of course that work did not usually include
+consoling beautiful damsels in distress, but there must be extenuating
+circumstances. She put her unpleasant thoughts from her mind, and
+proceeded on her mission, to give her husband the warning message she
+had just received, with a reasonably calm mind.</p>
+
+<p>After a drive of some fifteen minutes, she saw the cab ahead of them
+begin to slow up, and observed that her chauffeur did likewise.
+Presently the first cab stopped before the doors of a big, imposing
+looking hotel, and Richard and Miss Morton hurriedly entered.</p>
+
+<p>Grace did not at once get out. She knew that her husband might resent
+her having followed him, and did not care to put him to any disadvantage
+by appearing so unexpectedly upon the scene. She waited, therefore, for
+several minutes, until he would have had time to go to his room, and
+then, paying off her cabman, she strolled quietly into the hotel lobby.</p>
+
+<p>There were a few persons sitting about, but Richard was not amongst
+them. Going to the clerk at the desk, she asked to see Mr. Richard
+Duvall.</p>
+
+<p>The clerk regarded her with a supercilious stare, consulted his records
+in a bored way, then informed her that no such person was registered
+there.</p>
+
+<p>Grace was completely taken aback.</p>
+
+<p>"But I saw him come in, only a few moments ago," she protested.</p>
+
+<p>"No such person here, Miss." With a frigid smile the clerk turned away,
+watching her, however, out of the corner of his eye, as though he
+considered her a suspicious character.</p>
+
+<p>Grace leaned over and examined the register. There were three entries
+upon it, in a handwriting clearly that of her husband. "Mrs. Bradley and
+maid," the first entry said. "Miss Bradley," the second. They had been
+assigned a suite of rooms. The third and last entry was "John Bradley."
+His room adjoined the suite. All three were set down as hailing from
+Boston.</p>
+
+<p>Grace puzzled for a long time over this mysterious series of entries
+without arriving at any definite conclusion regarding them. Where was
+the so-called Mrs. Bradley? And why had her husband assumed the same
+name? Was he posing as Ruth Morton's brother, and if so, for what
+reason? She could not make head or tail of the matter, and wondered
+whether she had better send up her card, or write Richard a note and
+leave it for him, telling of the warning. While she was debating the
+matter in her mind, she suddenly saw him emerge from one of the
+elevators at the opposite side of the lobby, and come toward the desk.</p>
+
+<p>Grace approached him at once, glad that the matter had been so simply
+arranged.</p>
+
+<p>"Richard," she said, in a low voice. "I want to speak to you."</p>
+
+<p>The gentleman she had addressed regarded her with a frown.</p>
+
+<p>"My name is not Richard, madam," he said, pointedly. "I am John Bradley.
+You must have made a mistake." With a polite bow he passed <a name="on" id="on"></a>on.</p>
+
+<p>Grace was completely taken aback. She knew that between them there
+existed a tacit understanding never to address each other, in public,
+during the progress of a case, unless requested to do so by some sign.
+But she felt that she had important information to give her husband, and
+then, she <i>had</i> been a trifle jealous and annoyed. The thought that she
+had committed an error filled her with chagrin. Without a word, she left
+the hotel.</p>
+
+<p>At a nearby corner she stepped into a telephone booth, and calling up
+the hotel, asked to speak to Mr. John Bradley. In a few moments she
+heard Richard's familiar tones.</p>
+
+<p>"This is Grace," she said quickly. "I'm sorry I spoke to you, just now,
+but I wanted to tell you that some woman telephoned the hotel to-day,
+and left a warning to the effect that if you did not keep out of Miss
+Morton's affairs, you would be in serious danger."</p>
+
+<p>"How did you know where I was?" Duvall asked.</p>
+
+<p>"I saw you leave the hotel, and followed you."</p>
+
+<p>"You should not have done so."</p>
+
+<p>"But I wanted to give you the message. I thought you ought to know."</p>
+
+<p>"I understand that, but I wished my presence here to be unknown to
+anyone. You made a serious mistake. I only hope that no harm will come
+of it."</p>
+
+<p>"But&mdash;how could harm come of it?"</p>
+
+<p>"You drove here in one of the hotel's regular cabs, I suppose?"</p>
+
+<p>"Yes."</p>
+
+<p>"Then the people I am trying to avoid may trace me here, through the
+driver of that cab."</p>
+
+<p>"Oh&mdash;Richard&mdash;I'm so sorry. Isn't there anything I can do?"</p>
+
+<p>"Nothing, now, except to make no further attempt to communicate with me
+here. Good-by."</p>
+
+<p>Grace returned to her hotel, very thoroughly dissatisfied with what she
+had done. It seemed to her that by trying to warn Richard of possible
+danger, she might only have brought it upon him. Apparently he had left
+their hotel, to avoid the very persons who had telephoned the warning
+message to her. She arrived at the door, got out of the cab in which she
+had made the journey, and looked about, hoping that the cabman who had
+driven her uptown might now be at his usual stand. To her delight, she
+saw that he was.</p>
+
+<p>She went up to the man, a slim, keen looking young Irishman, and engaged
+him in conversation.</p>
+
+<p>"Do you remember driving me uptown an hour or so ago?" she asked.</p>
+
+<p>"Sure I do, Miss," answered the man, touching his cap.</p>
+
+<p>"Then please forget completely where you went, will you?" She handed the
+man a ten dollar bill. "It is barely possible that someone may try to
+find out, through you, where I went. Be sure that you give them no
+information."</p>
+
+<p>"They'll get nothing out of me, Miss," the man replied, pocketing the
+bill with a pleased grin.</p>
+
+<p>"And if anybody <i>does</i> try to find out, get their name, if you can, and
+if not, a description of them."</p>
+
+<p>"I'll do my best, Miss."</p>
+
+<p>"I am stopping here. My name is Duvall, Mrs. Duvall."</p>
+
+<p>"Very good, ma'am. I'll attend to it, ma'am."</p>
+
+<p>Grace went up to her room, satisfied that she had remedied her mistake,
+and began to look through an afternoon paper she had bought. There
+seemed nothing better to do, during the evening, than to go to the
+theater. Glancing down the list of attractions, she suddenly saw the
+name of Ruth Morton, in large letters, billed in a new feature play, <i>An
+American Beauty</i>, opening at the Grand Theater that night. She at once
+made up her mind to go. Since yesterday, her interest in Miss Morton had
+perceptibly increased. And in spite of all, Richard <i>had</i> held her hand.</p>
+
+<p>She was just finishing her dinner, when a page came through the room,
+calling her name. She got up at once and followed him to the lobby.</p>
+
+<p>"I am Mrs. Duvall," she said.</p>
+
+<p>The boy looked up.</p>
+
+<p>"There's a chauffeur outside wants to see you, ma'am," he said, "Tom
+Leary."</p>
+
+<p>Grace understood at once, and made her way to the sidewalk. The cab
+driver of the morning stood near the entrance.</p>
+
+<p>"I beg pardon, ma'am, for calling you out," he said, "but I couldn't
+come in, and there was something I felt you ought to know."</p>
+
+<p>"What is it?"</p>
+
+<p>"A lady came here to see me a while ago," he said. "A smallish looking
+woman, not pretty, with light hair. She had on a dark brown suit. Not
+very good style, ma'am. She asked me if I knew anybody in the hotel
+named Duvall. I said I did. I find she'd been asking all the other
+cabmen, and had been to the desk, before that. I guess she must have
+been inquiring for your husband, ma'am."</p>
+
+<p>"Yes&mdash;yes&mdash;very likely," Grace hastily replied. "What then?"</p>
+
+<p>"Well, ma'am, she then asked me if I knew Mrs. Duvall. I said I did.
+Then she wanted to know if I'd driven either you or your husband to any
+other hotel to-day, and I said I hadn't, but that I usually did drive
+you, when you went anywhere. I took the liberty of saying that, ma'am."</p>
+
+<p>"Yes. I'm glad you did. Go on."</p>
+
+<p>"Then she hands me five dollars, and says that if I <i>did</i> drive you to
+any other hotel, I was to let her know which one it was."</p>
+
+<p>"Where?" Grace asked, eagerly.</p>
+
+<p>The man fished from his pocket a small bit of cardboard upon which was
+scrawled with a pencil "Alice Watson, General Delivery."</p>
+
+<p>Grace stared at the bit of paper in surprise. Had she, by some lucky
+chance, discovered the very person for whom Richard was seeking? Of
+course the name was probably a fictitious one, and the address "General
+Delivery," meant nothing, and yet, it provided a clew by means of which
+this woman might be found.</p>
+
+<p>"You have acted very wisely, Leary," she said. "I am greatly obliged to
+you."</p>
+
+<p>"Do you want me to send her any word, ma'am?"</p>
+
+<p>"I may. I am anxious to get hold of this woman, or, to be more exact, my
+husband is. I will consult with him first, however. It may be that he
+will want you to write her a letter, giving her some such information as
+she desires, and then, by going to the general delivery window at the
+post office and watching, identify her when she comes for it. Do you
+think you could arrange to get off and do this?"</p>
+
+<p>"Well, ma'am, even if I can't arrange to get off, you could of course
+hire my cab, and&mdash;&mdash;"</p>
+
+<p>"Of course," Grace interrupted. "Very well. I will let you know further
+about the matter a little later. Meanwhile, here is something more for
+your trouble." She gave the man another bill. "Now drive me to the Grand
+Theater."</p>
+
+<br />
+
+<h2><a name="CHAPTER_X" id="CHAPTER_X"></a>CHAPTER X</h2>
+
+
+<p><a name="duvall" id="duvall"></a>Duvall, after having satisfied himself that Ruth Morton was safely
+installed in her suite of rooms at the hotel, came down to the lobby to
+await the arrival of Mrs. Morton.</p>
+
+<p>The unexpected meeting with Grace caused him the utmost anxiety. He
+appreciated fully her reasons for having come to see him, and yet he
+deeply regretted her coming. The enemies of Ruth Morton were far too
+clever, too shrewd, he feared, not to take advantage of her mistake, and
+by means of it, trace him at once to his present address. A complete
+disguise became an immediate necessity. He decided to assume one, as
+soon as Mrs. Morton had arrived.</p>
+
+<p>The latter came in about ten minutes later accompanied by Nora. Duvall
+explained matters to the clerk at the desk, and the supposed Mrs.
+Bradley was conducted to her rooms at once. Duvall accompanied her.</p>
+
+<p>They found Ruth resting quietly, but her joy at her mother's arrival was
+very apparent. She feared to be left alone, and seemed to expect her
+persecutors to appear from every closet, through every door or window.</p>
+
+<p>"Oh, mother, I'm so glad to see you," she exclaimed.</p>
+
+<p>"I'm glad to find you safe," Mrs. Morton returned.</p>
+
+<p>"I advise you to stay right here with your daughter throughout the
+evening, Mrs. Morton," said Duvall, as he made ready to go to his own
+room. "Have your meals sent up. Admit no one. Open no packages. I have
+every hope that before the night is over, I may have some most important
+and satisfactory news for you. I shall probably not see you again until
+after the performance to-night, but if anything vital occurs, I will of
+course communicate with you by telephone. Good-by, and good luck."</p>
+
+<p>When he reached his own room, he proceeded to the business of divesting
+himself completely of all resemblance to Richard Duvall. It was clear
+that the persons he was seeking knew him by sight, and hence his
+opportunities to accomplish anything against them were very greatly
+lessened. The threatening telephone message received by Grace did not
+worry him at all, but the fact that those people were so constantly upon
+his heels did. He determined to disappear completely as Duvall, and
+reappear in the person of John Bradley, using all his skill in the
+matter of disguise to create for himself a totally different
+personality.</p>
+
+<p>Taking a makeup box from his grip, he proceeded first to give his dark
+brown hair a very decided and natural looking touch of gray, over the
+temples and at the sides. Then he fitted into place a short pointed
+grayish beard, and a mustache with waxed ends. These were products of
+the skill of one of the best wig-makers in Paris, and so cleverly made
+that they would defy detection, even in broad daylight. A pair of
+gold-rimmed eyeglasses completed the facial disguise. Duvall might now
+have passed anywhere for a well-groomed professional man of fifty-five
+or sixty.</p>
+
+<p>The impression was heightened by his frock coat and silk hat. He felt
+quite sure that, in his present disguise, the plotters against Ruth
+Morton's welfare could not possibly recognize him.</p>
+
+<p>He went down to the theater very early, after a hasty dinner, and found
+Mr. Baker in the box office. The moving picture man did not recognize
+him, of course, and Duvall, after drawing him aside, had some little
+difficulty in convincing him of his identity. Once it had been
+established, however, Mr. Baker conducted him to a dressing room behind
+the scenes, and motioned him to a chair.</p>
+
+<p>"We can talk here without being seen or heard," he said. "Is there
+anything new?"</p>
+
+<p>"Nothing. I have taken Mrs. Morton and her daughter to a hotel, where I
+feel sure they will be quite safe from further annoyance. Ruth will not
+come to the studio for a few days, until we have gotten to the bottom of
+this affair. I am staying in an adjoining room, so as to be on hand at
+once in case of any trouble. I suppose you have everything fixed for
+to-night?"</p>
+
+<p>"Yes." Mr. Baker's tone was dubious. "I have inserted in the film the
+material you gave me. It will appear just at the end of Part I. I hope
+it will not spoil our picture."</p>
+
+<p>"I think not. As a matter of fact, when the reasons for its introduction
+become known, I imagine it will give you a lot of very valuable
+advertising."</p>
+
+<p>"Possibly so," Mr. Baker granted. "But after all, I begin to feel very
+doubtful as to the results. This woman, whoever she is, that is
+persecuting Miss Morton seems to be mighty clever. She may not be
+affected in the way you think, by what she sees on the screen."</p>
+
+<p>"I realize that. It is only a chance. But don't you think that, under
+the circumstances, it is a chance worth taking?"</p>
+
+<p>"Most certainly; otherwise I should not have consented to it. But, as I
+say, I doubt very much its success."</p>
+
+<p>"Well&mdash;we can only try. You will remember what I said about the lights,
+and the call for a doctor, if one appears to be needed."</p>
+
+<p>"Yes. I have all that in mind. Miss Morton is not coming to-night, I
+presume."</p>
+
+<p>"No. I advised against it."</p>
+
+<p>"I'm glad of that."</p>
+
+<p>Duvall sat in silence for a moment.</p>
+
+<p>"By the way," he said presently. "There is one important matter that I
+have overlooked. Do you give your employees passes for these opening
+performances?"</p>
+
+<p>"No&mdash;not regularly, that is. But any member of our organization who
+wishes to see the performance would of course be admitted. We reserve a
+section of the house for that purpose. A number of our people usually
+come over."</p>
+
+<p>"Good! That's just what I had hoped for. Where is this section?"</p>
+
+<p>"The last five rows on the left-hand side of the house. But why?"</p>
+
+<p>"Don't you see? All the evidence points to the fact that the person who
+is responsible for these threats either works in your studio, or is in
+some way able to gain access to it at any time. Witness the stolen
+photograph&mdash;the substituted telegram of this morning. In the latter it
+was definitely stated that the woman in the case would be in the
+audience to-night. I am hoping sincerely that she will not have the
+cleverness to enter as one of the public, but will come in as one of
+your people, and sit in the section of the house reserved exclusively
+for your employees. In that event, I think we shall discover who she is
+beyond a doubt."</p>
+
+<p>"I certainly hope so," sighed Mr. Baker. "This thing has got us all up
+in the air. Our President had a long conference with me this afternoon
+about Miss Morton. He seems to think she is going to pieces, and
+recommended trying to get Joan Clayton away from the Multigraph people
+to take her place. He says that she is losing her good looks. I told him
+nothing, of course, but it worried me a lot. I am very fond of Ruth
+Morton, and I don't want to see her lose her place."</p>
+
+<p>"She won't lose it," asserted Duvall. "When we get through, her position
+with your company will be stronger than it has ever been before. Shall
+we go out in the lobby and take a look at the crowd as it comes in?"</p>
+
+<p>Mr. Baker assented, and the two men stationed themselves near the box
+office.</p>
+
+<p>Without appearing to do so, Duvall inspected the various members of the
+incoming crowd. His scrutiny was careful, comprehensive, but the only
+person he recognized was Grace.</p>
+
+<p>That she also recognized him he knew. She had seen the disguise he wore,
+many times, and was familiar with it. She did not betray herself,
+however, by so much as a glance, but proceeded at once to her seat.</p>
+
+<p>When the moment arrived for the beginning of the performance, the house
+was filled. Duvall, with Baker at his side, stationed himself back of
+the left-hand section of seats, so that the rows reserved for the
+employees of the company were directly in front of him. He occupied
+himself, during the interval before the lights were switched off, by
+noting carefully all the women in the last five rows, but none of them
+attracted his attention particularly.</p>
+
+<p>Soon the performance began. Ruth Morton, the American Beauty, stepped
+upon the screen, a compelling vision of loveliness. The audience
+followed eagerly her exciting adventures. Duvall himself, in spite of
+his preoccupation, found himself absorbed by the charm and action of the
+picture. In the opening scenes, Ruth appeared as a poor girl, trying to
+make her way in the great world of the theater. Her struggles, her
+sacrifices, her failures, were almost vividly portrayed. When at last,
+through her marvelous beauty, she succeeded in gaining recognition from
+the critics, he applauded with those about him, completely under the
+spell of her charm.</p>
+
+<p>The final scene of the first part was a view of Ruth, as Catherine Grey,
+the American Beauty, refusing the dubious offers made her by a rich New
+Yorker. With a faith in herself by no means assumed, Catherine turned
+from his picture of luxury, of steam yachts, of country estates, of
+unlimited bank accounts, with a smile which showed her confidence in her
+beauty, her talents. The audience watched her, spellbound, as she stood
+on the sidewalk before the theater, looking with grave inscrutable eyes
+after the costly limousine that had just driven away without her. In no
+picture heretofore taken of the girl had she appeared to better
+advantage. Every line of her lovely face seemed responsive to the effect
+of the lighting, the situation, the motives which inspired her. The
+audience drew itself back, ready to register its approval of the first
+part of the film with hearty applause.</p>
+
+<p>And then, something happened. The lovely, smiling face of Ruth Morton
+faded from view, and in its place came with brutal suddenness the
+picture of a huge grinning death's head, amazing in its suggestion of
+horror. The audience sat in utter silence, wondering what could be the
+reason for this sudden apparition. Beneath the death's head appeared in
+huge letters the words:</p>
+
+<p class="center">"We know the woman."</p>
+
+<p>The thing had come as a complete surprise. The tension throughout the
+house was electric. Duvall saw his wife rise from her seat on the aisle,
+a few rows away, and come quickly to the rear of the house. She, at
+least, realized that a moment of importance had arrived.</p>
+
+<p>And then, without warning, the stillness of the theater was broken by a
+sudden cry, and a woman, sitting some three rows from where Duvall
+stood, but on the opposite side of the aisle from the seats indicated by
+Mr. Baker, rose to her feet, turned, and fell heavily against the back
+of the seat ahead of her. At almost the same moment the lights were
+switched on, and a voice was heard calling. "Is there a doctor in the
+house?"</p>
+
+<p>It was Mr. Baker, and Duvall, who stood beside him, sprang forward at
+once.</p>
+
+<p>"I am a doctor," he cried, and approached the place where the woman sat.</p>
+
+<p>"Can I be of any assistance?" Grace asked. "I am a trained nurse."</p>
+
+<p>"Yes," replied Duvall, quickly. "Get this woman to the ladies' dressing
+room at once."</p>
+
+<p>Grace sprang forward. There was a bustle among the audience, a sudden
+rising, a craning of necks. Everyone seemed to be looking for the person
+who had uttered the sudden cry. Before anyone fully realized what had
+happened, Grace had reached the fainting woman's side, and supporting
+her with an arm about her waist, was leading her toward the rear of the
+house.</p>
+
+<p>Almost at once the theater became dark, and the second part of the
+picture was flashed upon the screen. The lovely face of Ruth Morton once
+more greeted the eyes of the <a name="audience" id="audience"></a>audience. The interruption had occupied
+less than a minute.</p>
+
+<p>Duvall, standing at the entrance to the aisle, watched Grace come
+quickly toward him, supporting the fainting woman. The latter seemed
+completely overcome, and Grace was obliged almost to carry her.</p>
+
+<p>"Keep her there, in the dressing room, until I return," he said in a
+quick whisper. Then with a nod to Mr. Baker, who stood close by, he went
+toward the street. A taxicab drew up, awaiting a fare. Duvall signaled
+to it.</p>
+
+<p>"Wait for me here," he said to the driver. "I will be back in a moment."
+Then he re-entered the theater.</p>
+
+<p>Grace meanwhile had conducted the woman to the ladies' dressing room,
+and placed her upon a couch.</p>
+
+<p>She was a frail, insignificant looking creature, not at all the sort of
+person one would associate with threats of the kind that Ruth Morton had
+been receiving. She appeared to be greatly ashamed of her sudden
+collapse, and kept insisting, in spite of her evident weakness, that she
+was quite all right again, and wanted to go.</p>
+
+<p>Grace, however, paid no attention to her protestations, but insisted
+that she remain quiet.</p>
+
+<p>"The doctor will be here in a moment," she said. "You must wait quietly
+until he comes."</p>
+
+<p>The woman, however, seemed determined to leave, and it was with a sigh
+of relief that Grace welcomed her husband's return.</p>
+
+<p>Duvall came in hurriedly, as he did so taking a small brown bottle from
+his waistcoat pocket.</p>
+
+<p>"Get me a glass of water," he said to the negro maid. The woman brought
+one at once.</p>
+
+<p>Duvall took a tablet from the bottle and placed it in the glass,
+stirring the water about with the end of a <a name="lead" id="lead"></a>lead pencil until the tablet
+was dissolved. Then he went up to the woman on the couch.</p>
+
+<p>"Here&mdash;drink this," he commanded. "It will quiet your nerves."</p>
+
+<p>The woman took the glass, her eyes regarding him with suspicion. Duvall,
+in his character of a physician, turned aside, and addressed a few words
+to Grace, fearing that in some way the woman might succeed in
+recognizing him. As a result both failed to see that instead of drinking
+the medicine he had given to her, the girl swiftly poured it upon the
+floor. When he again turned to her, she held the empty glass in her
+hand.</p>
+
+<p>Duvall took it from her, and handed it to Grace.</p>
+
+<p>"Come with me, Miss," he said. "I will see you home."</p>
+
+<p>"It isn't necessary," the woman gasped. "I&mdash;I'm all right now."</p>
+
+<p>"You have had a severe shock, Miss. As a physician, it is my duty to see
+that you arrive home safely. I have already engaged a cab. Come." He
+took the woman by the arm and in spite of her objections, raised her
+from the couch.</p>
+
+<p>Suddenly her opposition vanished. She seemed glad of his assistance,
+and, leaning on his arm, made her way from the theater. Duvall was in
+high spirits. He fully believed that his plan had succeeded, that the
+woman at his side was the one who was responsible for the threats which
+had made Ruth Morton so wretched for the past few days.</p>
+
+<p>The cab that he had engaged stood waiting at the door. He put the woman
+inside. She seemed very weak and helpless. "Drive to the &mdash;&mdash; Hotel,"
+Duvall called to the chauffeur, then entered the cab and seated himself
+at the woman's side. He saw Mr. Baker standing upon the sidewalk, and
+nodded. Then they drove off.</p>
+
+<p>The woman lay, in a state of apparent collapse, in one corner of the
+cab, her face pale, her eyes closed. Duvall, inspecting her as well as
+he could in the faint light, began to feel grave doubts as to whether
+after all he had been successful in his ruse. She seemed so little the
+type of woman he would have associated with the brutal campaign of
+terror that had been directed against Miss Morton.</p>
+
+<p>She clutched a black leather satchel tightly in one hand. Duvall
+regarded it with interest. If he was right in his assumption that this
+was the woman he sought, it seemed highly probable that within that
+satchel lay evidence that might convict her. At least there would be
+some clue as to who she was, and that in itself would be valuable.</p>
+
+<p>The woman seemed to grow weaker and weaker. Her closed eyes, her slow
+but regular breathing, indicated that the drug he had given her had
+begun to take effect. Stealthily Duvall's hand reached toward the small
+black satchel. With eager fingers he pressed the catch, and as the bag
+opened, began to draw out its contents.</p>
+
+<p>The woman, however, seemed far less helpless than he had supposed. She
+pulled the satchel toward her, her fingers seeking to close it. Duvall
+discontinued his efforts at once. It would be time enough, he felt, when
+they had reached the hotel, and the woman had been safely conducted to a
+room there. He had made his plans carefully in advance, and arranged
+matters with the hotel manager. There was nothing to do, now, but wait.</p>
+
+<p>Presently the woman, who had been regarding him, unnoticed, from beneath
+lowered lids, uttered a groan, as though in great pain, and clutched her
+breast. Duvall turned to her at once, speaking in a soothing voice, and
+assuming a professional manner.</p>
+
+<p>"Is anything wrong, Miss? I had hoped you were feeling better."</p>
+
+<p>"No, doctor. I'm not. I feel terrible&mdash;terrible."</p>
+
+<p>"In what way?"</p>
+
+<p>"My&mdash;my heart. It is in awful shape. I need some stimulant. The&mdash;the
+medicine you gave me made me feel very ill."</p>
+
+<p>Her words surprised Duvall. He had given her a simple drug, the effect
+of which should have been to make her drowsy, to quiet her nerves. That
+she had not taken it, he of course did not know. His greatest fear had
+been that she would refuse to enter the cab with him. Now that she had
+done so, he was prepared to use even force, if necessary, to retain her
+in his custody until he had either obtained the evidence he desired, or
+forced from her a confession. What he particularly hoped to find was the
+seal with which the death's head impression had been made. He felt
+certain that, if this was the woman he sought, she would have this seal
+somewhere about her person. It was far too significant a bit of evidence
+to be left lying about at home.</p>
+
+<p>But there was always the chance that this woman, who had been so
+instantly affected by the ghastly apparition on the screen, the
+significant words beneath it, might not, after all, be the right one,
+the one he sought. There was always the possibility that the real
+criminal, although present in the audience, had made no sign, and that
+his companion in the cab might be entirely innocent. As he had told
+Baker, it was a chance&mdash;a long chance, yet something seemed to say to
+him that he had made no mistake in taking it. Now, however, a new
+situation had arisen to upset his plans. His prisoner, instead of having
+been quieted by the drug he had administered, was apparently becoming
+more and more agitated and nervous every minute. Her groans, as she lay
+huddled up in the corner of the cab, puzzled him, filled him with vague
+alarm. Was it possible that she had a weak heart? Had the sedative he
+had given her, harmless as he knew the dose would be to a normal person,
+affected her in so unfavorable a way? He took her wrist in his hand, and
+felt her pulse. It was quick, indicative of nervous excitement, but
+certainly not weak.</p>
+
+<p>"Oh&mdash;doctor, doctor, won't you <i>please</i> give me something to make me
+feel a little better?" the woman gasped. "It's my heart, I tell you.
+I&mdash;I can't breathe. I'm suffocating. I must have something at once&mdash;some
+aromatic spirits of ammonia&mdash;some brandy&mdash;anything, to make me feel a
+little better."</p>
+
+<p>Her earnestness, her trembling voice, her excited manner, all served to
+convince Duvall that his companion was really in need of a stimulant of
+some sort. He decided to humor her. A dose of aromatic spirits, he
+reflected, could do no harm, and would doubtless serve to lessen her
+excitement. He leaned out, and directed the driver of the cab to stop at
+the nearest drug store.</p>
+
+<p>"Oh&mdash;thank you&mdash;thank you," the woman gasped. "Tell him to hurry,
+please." Then collapsing in the corner of the seat, she closed her eyes
+and sat so silent that Duvall began to wonder whether she had lost
+consciousness.</p>
+
+<p>The taxicab, meanwhile, had drawn up in front of a drug store on Sixth
+Avenue. Duvall took a look at the apparently unconscious woman, then
+spoke quickly to the chauffeur.</p>
+
+<p>"Stay here until I return," he said. "Don't go away under any
+circumstances. I shall be gone but a moment."</p>
+
+<p>The man nodded.</p>
+
+<p>"I'll stay, sir," he said. "Don't worry."</p>
+
+<p>Duvall went quickly into the store. Going up to the soda counter, he
+instructed the clerk to prepare him a dose of aromatic spirits of
+ammonia as quickly as possible. While waiting for it, he watched the cab
+through the store window.</p>
+
+<p>The preparation of the dose required but a few moments. Then, explaining
+matters to the clerk, Duvall took the glass in his hand and went back to
+the cab. He smiled to himself at his anxiety, as he passed through the
+door. The woman was far too ill, he reflected, to entertain any thoughts
+of escape.</p>
+
+<p>"Here," the detective said, opening the door of the cab. "Drink this."</p>
+
+<p>There was no response. Duvall stuck his head into the vehicle with some
+misgivings. Then he experienced a sudden and most mortifying shock.
+There was no fainting woman huddled against the cushions in the far
+corner. There was no woman at all. <i>The cab was empty!</i></p>
+
+<br />
+
+<h2><a name="CHAPTER_XI" id="CHAPTER_XI"></a>CHAPTER XI</h2>
+
+
+<p>Richard Duvall had had charge of many unusual and intricate cases, in
+the past, and he prided himself upon the fact that he had handled them
+with skill and discretion, and that the results which had followed had
+been both quick and decisive. But in all his career he had not, so far
+as he could remember, ever felt quite so chagrined, as he did when he
+threw open the door of the cab and found that the woman he had left
+there had disappeared.</p>
+
+<p>The fault was his, he knew that well&mdash;entirely and unmistakably his.
+This woman was evidently far more clever, more subtle than he had
+imagined. He realized now that she had in all probability not taken the
+drug he had given her in the dressing room of the theater, that she had
+seen his effort to examine the contents of her handbag, that her
+weakness, her call for a stimulant of some sort had been but clever
+acting, and that she had purposely sent him into the <a name="drug" id="drug"></a>drug store in order
+that she might escape. He blamed himself, utterly and completely, for
+his amazing stupidity in not realizing that the woman, instead of
+ordering the cabman to drive away, had only to slip out through the door
+on the opposite side of the vehicle, and vanish in the darkness.</p>
+
+<p>And this she had quite evidently done. The door of the cab opposite him
+stood open. No doubt she had purposely refrained from closing it,
+fearing that the click of the lock might attract the driver's attention.
+The latter with his eyes following Duvall, as the detective entered the
+store, had remained serenely unconscious of his passenger's movements,
+her clever escape.</p>
+
+<p>At least three or four minutes had elapsed. Duvall glanced up and down
+the street, but no sight of the vanished woman greeted his anxious gaze.
+She had had ample time to reach the next corner, and disappear in the
+darkness. Thoughts of pursuit entered his mind, but he realized at once
+the fruitlessness of such an attempt. His captive might have fled east
+or west, at either of the streets north or south of where he stood. Or
+she might have entered some restaurant, some motion picture house, or
+other convenient doorway along the Avenue. She might even have boarded a
+Sixth Avenue car, or hailed a passing cab. He looked up at the
+chauffeur, who still sat at his steering wheel, totally unaware of the
+flight of one of his passengers.</p>
+
+<p>"The woman has gone," Duvall exclaimed, nodding toward the vacant cab.</p>
+
+<p>The man turned in complete surprise. He seemed scarcely able to credit
+the evidence of his senses.</p>
+
+<p>"I&mdash;why sir&mdash;she was here just a moment ago, sir," he gasped, gazing
+into the interior of the cab as though he expected its recent occupant
+to suddenly materialize in the flesh.</p>
+
+<p>"She got out on the other side, while I was in the store," Duvall
+remarked, shortly, then taking an electric searchlight from his pocket,
+made a thorough examination of the interior of the cab. He scarcely
+expected to find anything, although it flashed through his mind that the
+woman, in her hurry to escape, might have left her bag, her gloves, or
+something that might afford him a clue to her identity.</p>
+
+<p>At first he saw nothing. Then, as his eyes became more accustomed to the
+brilliant glare of the electric torch, he observed a bit of white
+cardboard lying on the floor. It looked like a visiting card, and he
+snatched it up, devoutly hoping that it had fallen from the woman's bag
+during the attempt he had made to rifle it.</p>
+
+<p>Under the light of his pocket lamp he made a quick examination of his
+find. It proved a lamentable disappointment. It was in fact a visiting
+card, or to be more correct, the torn half of one, but what was engraved
+upon it afforded him not the least clue to either the identity or the
+address of the woman he sought. On the first line were the words, "Miss
+Mar"&mdash;then came the torn edge of the card. On the second line there was
+but the figure 1, and then the break.</p>
+
+<p>Was the name so tantalizingly suggested by the letters before him "Miss
+Mary" something or other? Or "Miss Margaret?" Or was it "Miss Martin,"
+or "Miss Marvin," or "Miss Marbury," or any one of a score of other
+names beginning with the letters "Mar?" And what was the missing
+address? What numbers followed the figure 1, on that part of the card
+that had been torn off? And what was the name of the street? He realized
+at once that while what he had found might, under certain circumstances,
+act as a suggestion, it would not serve to get him very far, unless
+reinforced by other and more definite evidence. He thought for a moment
+of securing from Mr. Baker a list of the women employees of the studio.
+It was true, he remembered, that his prisoner had not been seated in
+that particular section of the house reserved for the company's
+employees, but that might have readily come from the fact that the
+section was fully occupied when she arrived. Then, as more names
+beginning with "Mar" occurred to him, the futility of the idea became
+apparent. Apart from any possible number of Marys, and Margarets there
+were Martha, Maria, Marcia, Marian, Marcella&mdash;others perhaps. Of course
+he would be able to recognize the woman, if he saw her, but she would be
+too clever to return to her place in the studio the following day, if by
+any chance she worked there, knowing, as she must inevitably know, that
+she would be identified at once.</p>
+
+<p>Still, there was of course the chance that Mr. Baker might have
+recognized her. He presumably knew all the employees of his company by
+sight. Duvall got into the cab with a mortifying sense of having made a
+very foolish blunder, and directed the cabman to drive him back to the
+Grand Theater.</p>
+
+<p>Mr. Baker was waiting in the lobby when the detective arrived, and at a
+nod from the latter the two men retired to the dressing room in which
+they had had their previous consultation. The moving picture man's face
+was eager, expectant, as he waited for Duvall to speak, and the latter
+felt his chagrin increase by the moment.</p>
+
+<p>When he had at last finished his account of the affair, Mr. Baker looked
+exceedingly grave.</p>
+
+<p>"Too bad&mdash;too bad," he muttered, "to have had her in our hands like
+that, and then, to lose her."</p>
+
+<p>"Did you ever see the woman before?" Duvall questioned.</p>
+
+<p>"No. Of course she might be in our employ, but I doubt it, although I
+could not be expected to know by sight every girl who works in the
+plant. There are stenographers, film cutters and pasters, dozens of
+others, that I do not engage directly, and never see. Let me look at the
+card."</p>
+
+<p>Duvall handed the torn bit of pasteboard to him.</p>
+
+<p>"Not much to go on," he said, quietly.</p>
+
+<p>"No. Not much."</p>
+
+<p>"Of course," the detective went on, "the evening has not been entirely
+wasted. We know the woman by sight, and that is a great deal. As for her
+name, I have made a careful study of this card, and assuming it to have
+been of the usual length in comparison to its width, the name following
+the 'Miss,' if it was a first name, points to a very short one, such as
+Mary, and not a long one, such as Margaret."</p>
+
+<p>"How do you make that out?"</p>
+
+<p>"Simply enough. The entire name would of course have been placed in the
+center of the card, which was, it appears, torn almost exactly in half.
+On the left-hand side, which we have in our possession, there are, in
+the word 'Miss,' four letters, and in 'Mar' three, or seven in all. We
+should correspondingly expect to find seven letters on the right or
+missing half of the card. But were the first name Margaret, or Marcella,
+which each contain eight letters, or five to be added to the 'Mar' we
+already have, it would leave but two letters for the woman's last name,
+and names of that length, or rather shortness, are so rare as to be
+negligible. It is far more probable that we have but to add a 'y' to the
+'Mar,' or one letter, leaving six for the last name. This would give us
+'Miss Mar-y Gordon,' with the name evenly divided by the tear. Or, if by
+chance, the first name is such a one as Marian, containing six letters,
+we need add but the 'ian,' or three letters, to the left-hand side of
+our card, leaving us four letters for the last name. Thus, Miss Marian
+Kent. The full name on the card should have just fourteen letters,
+provided the card is, as I conclude, torn exactly in <a name="half" id="half"></a>half."</p>
+
+<p>"Why do you conclude that?"</p>
+
+<p>"Because visiting cards of this sort are usually made in standard sizes.
+I happen to have a woman's card&mdash;Miss Morton's, in fact, in my pocket.
+Its width is the same as that of the torn card, and if the latter was of
+the same length, you can readily see that it was torn exactly in half."
+He took a card from his wallet and laid the torn bit of pasteboard upon
+it. Their widths were identical. The whole card was just twice the
+length of the torn one.</p>
+
+<p>"That is a most interesting deduction," Baker exclaimed. "What use can
+we make of it?"</p>
+
+<p>"I will tell you. You have your car here, have you not?"</p>
+
+<p>"Yes."</p>
+
+<p>"Then I suggest that we run down to the studio at once, get your list of
+employees, examine the name of every woman upon it, and see if we cannot
+find one of fourteen letters, including the 'Miss,' of which the first
+name begins with 'Mar.' The chances are that we will be able to locate
+the name immediately."</p>
+
+<p>"Yes," Mr. Baker exclaimed, rising in some excitement, "but, as you have
+before said, the woman, if she works for us, will not dare to appear in
+the morning, for fear that she will be recognized at once."</p>
+
+<p>"That is true, but you will no doubt have on your books her home
+address. If we hurry, we can get there and back by midnight, and we may
+be able to place our hands on the woman before she can have time to
+escape."</p>
+
+<p>Mr. Baker reached the door in two steps.</p>
+
+<p>"Come along," he said. "We'll burn up the roads."</p>
+
+<p>The two men said little, during their long ride. When they reached the
+entrance to the dark and silent studio building, only the night watchman
+appeared to greet them.</p>
+
+<p>Inside the building, however, there were more signs of life. Some stage
+carpenters were busy, working overtime on a piece of scenery. In the
+developing and drying departments were also signs of activity. Mr. Baker
+led the way to his office. "It happens," he said, "that as I am obliged
+to O. K. the payroll each week, I have a list of our employees in my
+desk." As he spoke, he took his keys, opened a drawer, and drew out a
+small red book.</p>
+
+<p>"Here is the list, with the home addresses," he said. "How shall we go
+to work?"</p>
+
+<p>"Read me all the women's names, in which the first name begins with
+<a name="mar" id="mar"></a>'Mar,'" Duvall said. "I will put them down on a sheet of paper." He drew
+a pad toward him, took out his pencil, and the two set to work.</p>
+
+<p>When they had at last reached the end of the book, both Duvall and Mr.
+Baker were surprised to find that the names they had picked out were so
+few. In all there were but eight, as follows:</p>
+
+<p>
+<span style="margin-left: 3em;">Miss Mary Sollenberger,</span><br />
+<span style="margin-left: 3em;">Miss Mary Green,</span><br />
+<span style="margin-left: 3em;">Miss Margaret Schwartz,</span><br />
+<span style="margin-left: 3em;">Miss Maria Rosenheim,</span><br />
+<span style="margin-left: 3em;">Miss Martha Simmons,</span><br />
+<span style="margin-left: 3em;">Miss Marcia Ford,</span><br />
+<span style="margin-left: 3em;">Miss Marian Greenberg,</span><br />
+<span style="margin-left: 3em;">Miss Mary King.</span><br />
+</p>
+
+<p>Duvall ran his pencil down the list of names. "There is but one that
+fulfills the requirements," he announced. "The sixth name, that of Miss
+Marcia Ford, contains in all fourteen letters. None of the others do.
+Two, those of Miss King and Miss Green, come the nearest. Miss King's
+full name contains twelve letters, Miss Green's, thirteen. Any one of
+the three <i>might</i> be the one we seek."</p>
+
+<p>"I can answer for Miss King at once," said Mr. Baker, quietly. "She is
+my stenographer, and most certainly <i>not</i> the woman who was in the
+theater to-night."</p>
+
+<p>"That leaves then, Miss Green and Miss Ford. What do they do, and what
+are their addresses?"</p>
+
+<p>Mr. Baker referred to his book.</p>
+
+<p>"Miss Green is a telephone operator. Her address is given here as 310
+Gold Street, Brooklyn. Miss Ford is a film cutter, and lives at 122 West
+9th Street, New York."</p>
+
+<p>"Neither sounds particularly promising," Duvall remarked, with a frown.</p>
+
+<p>"No. But of course we are assuming that the woman in question works in
+the studio. If she does <i>not</i>, our whole fabric falls to pieces." Duvall
+took the torn piece of card from his pocket and glanced at it.</p>
+
+<p>"The address given here begins with the number 1," he said,
+significantly. <a name="itmay" id="itmay"></a>"It may be that Miss Marcia Ford, of 122 West Ninth
+Street, is the woman we are looking for, although I confess I should
+have suspected some rival motion picture star, rather than a film
+cutter."</p>
+
+<p>"By George, I forgot the fact that the card had an address on it," Baker
+exclaimed. "I think we had better look up Miss Ford at once."</p>
+
+<p>"I agree with you," Duvall said. A few moments later they were driving
+at top speed back toward New York.</p>
+
+<p>It was five minutes to twelve when they reached the corner of Fifth
+Avenue and Ninth Street and turned west. Duvall realized that they were
+following a very slim clue, but it seemed for the moment the only
+promising one they had.</p>
+
+<p>The house, No. 122, proved to be a typical high stooped, brownstone
+boarding house of this section of the city. It was for the most part
+dark, although one or two of the upper windows showed lights.</p>
+
+<p>Accompanied by Baker, Duvall quickly mounted the steps and rang the
+bell. At first there was no answer, although they could hear the sound
+of the bell tinkling mournfully inside. A second summons brought no
+greater response. At the third, a woman's head appeared in one of the
+upper windows, and they heard a shrill and not over pleasant voice
+asking them what they wanted.</p>
+
+<p>"I have an important message for Miss Marcia Ford," Duvall replied
+pleasantly. "I must see her at once."</p>
+
+<p>"Miss Ford moved away from here three months ago," the woman snapped.</p>
+
+<p>"Will you please give me her present address?" the detective exclaimed,
+somewhat taken aback.</p>
+
+<p>"I don't know it. She didn't say where she was going. Good night!" A
+moment later the window above them was closed with a slam.</p>
+
+<p>The two men stood staring at each other in the utmost disappointment.
+They had expected a more favorable outcome of their expedition.</p>
+
+<p>"How long has she been with you?" Duvall asked, turning to his
+companion.</p>
+
+<p>"I don't know. Certainly over three months, or we shouldn't have this
+address on our books. I suppose, when she changed it, she omitted to
+notify us. What are we going to do now?"</p>
+
+<p>"There isn't anything we can do, until morning. If Miss Marcia Ford
+reports for work to-morrow, and you see that she is the woman who
+fainted in the theater to-night, have her arrested at once. If she
+doesn't report for work, at least we shall know that she is the woman we
+are after."</p>
+
+<p>"That isn't much consolation," Mr. Baker grumbled.</p>
+
+<p>"I don't agree with you. Having the woman's name, knowing her
+appearance, we are certain to catch her, sooner or later. And in the
+meanwhile, I do not think that she will attempt anything further so far
+as Miss Morton is concerned. We are too close on her trail, for that."</p>
+
+<p>"I hope you are right," said the motion picture man. "Well, I guess I'll
+go along home. I'll be at the studio first thing in the morning,
+however, and I suppose you will be there too."</p>
+
+<p>"By all means. I am most curious to see whether our reasoning to-night
+has been correct."</p>
+
+<p>"Shall I take you to your hotel in my car?"</p>
+
+<p>"No, thanks. I'll take a taxi. Good night."</p>
+
+<p>"Good night."</p>
+
+<p>A few moments later, Duvall was speeding up Fifth Avenue, his brain
+still puzzling over the curious contradictions which the events of the
+night had developed. On one point he felt secure, however. He was
+certain that the woman who had so narrowly escaped him earlier in the
+evening would not soon again attempt anything against Ruth Morton.</p>
+
+<p>Arrived at his hotel, he asked for his key. The man behind the desk,
+with a queer look, handed him along with it a slip of paper. On it was
+written: "Mrs. Bradley wishes Mr. John Bradley to come to her room at
+the moment he returns."</p>
+
+<p>"When was this message left?" the detective asked.</p>
+
+<p>"Oh&mdash;nearly two hours ago. The time is stamped on the back of it, sir."</p>
+
+<p>Duvall turned the card over, and saw from the stamp on the other side
+that Mrs. Morton had sent for him at half past ten.</p>
+
+<p>"The message was phoned down by the lady herself," the clerk added, by
+way of explanation.</p>
+
+<p>Duvall went up in the elevator, and a few moments later, was knocking at
+the door of Mrs. Morton's suite.</p>
+
+<p>The latter herself appeared in the doorway. She was pale and agitated.
+"Come in, Mr. Duvall," she said.</p>
+
+<p>The detective entered, closing the door behind him.</p>
+
+<p>"What is wrong, Mrs. Morton?" he asked.</p>
+
+<p>"There has been another warning&mdash;a dreadful one," the older woman
+exclaimed, her voice trembling. "It came a little after ten."</p>
+
+<p>"What was it?" Duvall's voice was almost as strained as that of the
+woman before him. Her words came to him as a complete surprise. Had all
+the work of the evening, then, been wasted?</p>
+
+<p>"At a little after ten," Mrs. Morton said slowly, "I sent my maid Nora
+out for some medicine for my daughter. She went to a drug store some
+three blocks away. As she returned to the hotel, she saw a young woman
+standing near the entrance, apparently watching those who went in and
+out. As soon as the maid came up to the doorway, the woman stepped up to
+her, and thrusting a package into her hands, said quickly, 'Give this to
+Miss Ruth Morton. It is from the studio.' Then she walked away at once.</p>
+
+<p>"Nora, as she tells me, did not know just what to do. You will remember
+that while she realizes from our presence here under an assumed name,
+that something is wrong, she knows little or nothing of the
+circumstances surrounding Ruth's terrible persecution. Hence she
+foolishly took both the medicine and the package the woman had given
+her, to my daughter."</p>
+
+<p>"Yes&mdash;yes&mdash;go on," Duvall exclaimed, seeing Mrs. Morton pause.</p>
+
+<p>"Ruth opened them both. I was in the next room at the moment. Suddenly I
+heard a cry, and on rushing in, found her standing in the center of the
+room, holding a small bottle in one hand, and staring at it in the
+utmost consternation. In her other hand was a sheet of paper, which, as
+I subsequently found, had been wrapped around the bottle, inside the
+outer brown-paper cover.</p>
+
+<p>"The bottle was labeled 'carbolic acid.' Here is the sheet of paper."
+Mrs. Morton, with trembling fingers, extended a half sheet of <a name="note" id="note"></a>note-paper
+toward the detective.</p>
+
+<p>Duvall took it and read the typewritten words upon it.</p>
+
+<p>"We gave you thirty days. Now we give you seven. Drink this, and save
+yourself from a horrible fate." The death's head signature ended the
+message. "Ruth has been very ill ever since," Mrs. Morton added
+drearily. "If she is not better in the morning, I shall call in a
+doctor. She felt herself absolutely safe, here, and was recovering her
+cheerfulness. Now all her fears have returned with redoubled force. I am
+terribly worried about her&mdash;terribly worried." Taking out her
+handkerchief, the poor woman wiped the tears from her eyes. "How could
+these people have known we were here?" she whispered, in an awed voice.
+"It seems like the work of fiends."</p>
+
+<p>There was little that the detective could say in reply. Even to his
+sober judgment, there came a suggestion of the uncanny, the
+supernatural. The woman in the cab had escaped at half past nine,
+presumably quite ignorant of the location of Mrs. Morton's retreat. Half
+an hour later, the campaign of intimidation was renewed with greater
+vigor than before.</p>
+
+<p>"I'm afraid, Mrs. Morton," he said, "that it <a name="will" id="will"></a>will be necessary for you
+to remain with your daughter every minute of the time, for a day or two.
+By then, I am convinced that we shall have laid our hands on the guilty
+parties. Good night."</p>
+
+<p>Duvall rose very early the following morning, and drove at once to the
+studio, but early as he was, Mr. Baker was there before him.</p>
+
+<p>The latter was seated in his office, poring over a mass of reports, when
+Duvall entered. He glanced up, rose, shook hands nervously, then
+motioned to a chair.</p>
+
+<p>"Nothing new yet," he said. "My stenographer, Miss King, is here.
+Neither Miss Green nor Miss Ford have yet arrived, but it is still a
+little early. Miss King came before her usual time, as she had some
+reports to get out that she could not complete last night. We have at
+least fifteen minutes to wait."</p>
+
+<p>Duvall told him to proceed with his work, and drawing a newspaper from
+his pocket, made an effort to interest himself in it. In this, however,
+he was not very successful. Time after time his mind would wander from
+the printed sheet before him to the strange events of the night before.
+The thing that puzzled him most was, how did the persecutors of Miss
+Morton discover her new address so soon? Was the woman who had handed
+the package to Nora, the maid, the same one that had vanished from the
+cab? He remembered that it had been about nine o'clock when they left
+the Grand Theater, and perhaps half-past when he had gone into the drug
+store in Sixth Avenue to get the aromatic spirits of ammonia. Had the
+woman gone directly from the cab to the hotel? She must have done so,
+without much loss of time, in order to reach there by ten o'clock. How
+had she known the address? He knew very well that he had given it to the
+cabman, when they started away from the theater. Had the supposedly
+fainting woman overheard his words? If she had, and had so promptly
+acted upon them, she was far more clever and determined than her
+appearance would seem to warrant. He revolved the matter endlessly in
+his mind, waiting for Mr. Baker to announce that the time had come, when
+Miss Ford's or Miss Green's arrival or non-arrival would indicate which
+of the two, if either, was the woman they sought.</p>
+
+<p>Suddenly the bell of the telephone on Mr. Baker's desk ran sharply. He
+answered it, then turned to Duvall.</p>
+
+<p>"Miss Green, the telephone operator, is at her desk," he said. "Would
+you like to take a look at her?"</p>
+
+<p>"Yes." The detective arose, and followed Mr. Baker into the corridor.
+The switchboard of the building was located at the end of the hall, in a
+small bare room. When they reached it, Mr. Baker spoke to a dark-haired,
+rather stout, woman who sat at the desk.</p>
+
+<p>"Miss Green," he said, "if any calls come in for Mr. Duvall, he will be
+in my office." Then he went back along the corridor.</p>
+
+<p>"She certainly isn't the woman we are after," he remarked to Duvall, as
+soon as they were out of earshot.</p>
+
+<p>"No. It must be Miss Ford," the detective replied.</p>
+
+<p>"Suppose we go to the developing and finishing department," Baker
+suggested. "It is time all our people were on hand. Mr. Emmett, who is
+in charge there, can tell <a name="us" id="us"></a>us about Miss Ford."</p>
+
+<p>They crossed to the other side of the building, and entered a small
+office. A bald-headed man sat at a littered desk.</p>
+
+<p>"Mr. Emmett," Baker said, "shake hands with Mr. Duvall. He is looking
+for a young woman in the finishing department. Miss Marcia Ford. Has she
+come in yet?"</p>
+
+<p>"No," replied the bald-headed man, gravely shaking hands. "She is not
+here this morning. It is rather surprising, too, for she usually is on
+time."</p>
+
+<p>"What sort of a looking woman is she?" Duvall inquired.</p>
+
+<p>"Oh&mdash;a rather insignificant looking girl of about twenty-five. Small,
+slender, not very prepossessing, but clever&mdash;enormously clever. One of
+the best film cutters we have. I should be sorry to lose her."</p>
+
+<p>"Light blue eyes, and light hair," Duvall questioned. "And a thin,
+rather cruel mouth?"</p>
+
+<p>"Exactly. But why? Has she gotten into any trouble?"</p>
+
+<p>"No&mdash;I hope not. I merely wanted to see her."</p>
+
+<p>"Well&mdash;of course she may show up later, although as I say she has
+usually been very punctual. I shouldn't be surprised if she is sick.
+She's been acting rather peculiarly, the past few days."</p>
+
+<p>"How so?" asked Duvall, quickly.</p>
+
+<p>"I can't say&mdash;exactly. I got the impression from her manner that she was
+nervous, excited, out of sorts. Merely an impression, but such things
+count."</p>
+
+<p>"Telephone me, Emmett," Mr. Baker said, "if she comes in during the next
+hour. Come along, Mr. Duvall, you can wait in my office."</p>
+
+<p>They returned to the other side of the immense building, and Duvall sat
+down to wait. He felt sure that they were on the right track, and was
+impatient to get back to New York and try to locate the missing woman.
+The description given by Mr. Emmett left little doubt in his mind that
+she and Miss Marcia Ford were one and the same. He sat in Mr. Baker's
+office, reading the paper, waiting anxiously for the hour the latter had
+specified to pass.</p>
+
+<p>After what seemed an interminable wait, Mr. Baker glanced at his watch,
+then rose.</p>
+
+<p>"It is ten o'clock, Mr. Duvall," he announced. "Miss Ford has not come,
+or Mr. Emmett would have notified me. I do not see that there is
+anything further to be accomplished here."</p>
+
+<p>As he spoke, the telephone bell rang sharply. Mr. Baker picked up the
+receiver, listened intently for a few moments, then slammed the receiver
+back upon the hook.</p>
+
+<p>"Hell!" he ejaculated softly.</p>
+
+<p>"What is it?" Duvall asked.</p>
+
+<p>"Miss Ford has just reported for work!"</p>
+
+<br />
+
+<h2><a name="PART_III" id="PART_III"></a>PART III</h2>
+<h2><a name="CHAPTER_XII" id="CHAPTER_XII"></a>CHAPTER XII</h2>
+
+
+<p>The announcement, made by Mr. Baker, that Miss Marcia Ford, the film
+cutter, had reported for work, filled Duvall with astonishment. He had
+expected nothing of the sort, so convinced was he that the girl in
+question was the one they were looking for, the one who had been
+persecuting Ruth Morton, the motion picture star, with her threats.</p>
+
+<p>He rose from his seat, in Mr. Baker's office at the studio, and turned
+toward the door. "If Miss Ford has reported for work," he said, "I had
+better take a look at her at once. If she is the woman who escaped from
+the cab, last night, I shall have no difficulty in recognizing her. But
+I am afraid it is out of the question. Knowing that both you and I had
+seen her, when she fainted at the theater, she would not dare to put in
+an appearance here to-day. The thing is utterly <a name="incomprehensible" id="incomprehensible"></a>incomprehensible.</p>
+
+<p>"Still, she might suppose that we would not suspect her, that she could
+carry on her work in the studio without anyone being the wiser. I seldom
+go into that part of the building, myself, and she would certainly not
+expect to see you. In fact, it may not have occurred to her that we
+suspect one of our employees, in spite of the stolen photograph or the
+fake telegram."</p>
+
+<p>"Suppose we take a look at her at once. That will settle the whole
+question," Duvall urged.</p>
+
+<p>"Very well." Mr. Baker closed his desk and the two men crossed the
+corridor and made their way into that part of the studio building
+devoted to the developing and finishing of the films.</p>
+
+<p>Mr. Emmett, the head of the department, was seated at his desk when they
+arrived.</p>
+
+<p>"So the Ford girl is here," Baker said at once.</p>
+
+<p>"Yes, sir. She came in about ten minutes ago, explaining her lateness by
+saying that she was ill, when she got up this morning, and was not sure
+that she could get here at all. Shall I send for her?"</p>
+
+<p>"No," Duvall interposed quickly. "Pardon me, Mr. Baker," he turned to
+the latter, "but if we send for this girl, it will arouse her
+suspicions. Of course I do not think she is the woman we are looking
+for, but she may be in league with her. Would it not be better to have
+Mr. Emmett and yourself conduct me through the room in which she works,
+as though I were a visitor to the studio? You can readily point her out
+to me as we pass, and that will give me ample opportunity to recognize
+her, in case I have ever seen her before."</p>
+
+<p>"I think that a very good idea," returned Baker. He said a few words to
+Mr. Emmett, and the three men set out to go through the rooms in which
+the film cutting and pasting were done.</p>
+
+<p>At one of the tables a girl of about twenty was at work. As they passed,
+Mr. Emmett turned his head and nodded. The girl did not look up, and the
+three men continued their way through the room.</p>
+
+<p>When they again reached the hall, Mr. Baker turned to Duvall.</p>
+
+<p>"Well?" he questioned.</p>
+
+<p>"It is not the woman," the detective said. "I did not suppose it would
+be. There is some slight resemblance, of course. The color of the eyes
+and hair is the same, and the features are somewhat alike. However, I am
+very much afraid, Mr. Baker, that I have wasted both your time and mine.
+And yet, I cannot get over my original impression, that the person
+responsible for these threats is connected, in some way, with your
+company."</p>
+
+<p>Baker, puzzled and disappointed as well, led the way back to his office.
+Duvall, however, when they reached it, did not enter.</p>
+
+<p>"I shall not remain any longer, at present," he said. "I have an idea
+that I can accomplish more in town. Perhaps I may discover something
+there&mdash;some clue, that will enable us to make progress. I have a plan
+that may result in something."</p>
+
+<p>"What is it?" Mr. Baker asked.</p>
+
+<p>"I prefer not to say yet. If anything develops, I will let you know.
+Good day."</p>
+
+<p>The taxicab in which he had made the trip down was still waiting for
+him. An hour later he had reached his hotel.</p>
+
+<p>The disguise of the night before he had discarded. The woman in the cab
+had penetrated it. His presence, and that of Mrs. Morton, at the uptown
+hotel, was known. There seemed to be no further purpose, for the
+present, in attempting to preserve his incognito. He went to his room at
+once, and knocked on the door which separated it from the apartment of
+Mrs. Morton and her daughter. The door was opened by the maid, who
+ushered him into the little parlor.</p>
+
+<p>"I will tell Mrs. Morton that you are here," the girl said, and went
+into the next room.</p>
+
+<p>Mrs. Morton came out presently, her face pale and drawn. Duvall knew at
+once that she had been up all night, watching, no doubt, beside her
+daughter.</p>
+
+<p>"How is Miss Ruth?" he asked.</p>
+
+<p>"She is better. She had a fairly good night's rest, and her fever has
+left her."</p>
+
+<p>"I am glad to hear that. I hope there have been no further threats."</p>
+
+<p>"No. Not yet. But I never know at what moment something may happen. It
+is terrible&mdash;terrible, living under a shadow like this."</p>
+
+<p>As she spoke, the telephone bell rang.</p>
+
+<p>"You answer it, Mr. Duvall," she said, turning quickly to the door by
+which she had entered, and closing it. "I do not think I can stand
+anything more at present."</p>
+
+<p>Duvall took down the receiver. Someone was asking for Mr. John Bradley.</p>
+
+<p>"This is Mr. Bradley," he said, then suddenly recognized his wife's
+voice. "Is this you, Richard?" she asked.</p>
+
+<p>"Yes. What is it?"</p>
+
+<p>"If you have time, to-day, come down and see me. I have something I want
+to tell you. Something important."</p>
+
+<p>"Very well. I will be there in half an hour. Good-by." He hung up the
+receiver.</p>
+
+<p>"Was it anything&mdash;anything <i>more</i>, Mr. Duvall?" asked Mrs. Morton.</p>
+
+<p>"No. Nothing of that sort. Well, I must go along now. I merely looked in
+to ask after your daughter. There is one thing I want you to do,
+however, and that is, let me have a key to your apartment on 57th
+Street."</p>
+
+<p>Mrs. Morton took the key from her purse, and handed it to him.</p>
+
+<p>"Haven't you any good news, yet?" she asked, somewhat pathetically.</p>
+
+<p>"Not yet&mdash;at least nothing very definite. I know the woman who is
+annoying your daughter by sight, however, and I think I can safely
+assure you that she will be under arrest before very long. Matters of
+this sort take time, Mrs. Morton. Remember that I have had charge of the
+case but three days, and these people we are looking for are shrewd,
+leaving few clues. But I feel that I shall have something definite to
+report very soon now."</p>
+
+<p>"I hope so, I'm sure. Good day."</p>
+
+<p>"Good day." Duvall left the room, and taking a taxi, drove down to see
+Grace.</p>
+
+<p>He found her sitting at the writing desk, in the reception room of their
+suite, apparently busy over a letter. She pushed the sheet of paper
+aside, when her husband entered, and threw her arms about his neck.</p>
+
+<p>"Richard!" she exclaimed, "I'm so glad to see you. It has been ages.
+What's the matter with <a name="you" id="you"></a>you? You look dreadfully blue."</p>
+
+<p>Duvall threw himself into a chair.</p>
+
+<p>"I'm a bit disgusted with myself," he said.</p>
+
+<p>"What about? I may ask you now, may I not? Is it about that wretched
+Morton case? I must talk to you about that. May I? You see, you rather
+got me into it, last night, and I got myself into it, too, by coming up
+to your hotel to see you, and now you've got to tell me how things
+turned out, after you left the theater, or I shall not know just what to
+do."</p>
+
+<p>"About what?"</p>
+
+<p>"I'll tell you that, after I hear about last night."</p>
+
+<p>Duvall laughed, although a trifle grimly.</p>
+
+<p>"I'm not particularly proud of last night," he said.</p>
+
+<p>"Wasn't the woman who fainted the one you were after?" asked Grace.</p>
+
+<p>"Yes. I'm sure she was. But unfortunately, she got away from me." He
+outlined to Grace the circumstances which led up to the woman's escape
+from the cab.</p>
+
+<p>"You say she was a small, slight woman, with light hair?"</p>
+
+<p>"Yes. Why?"</p>
+
+<p>"Then I may know something about her."</p>
+
+<p>"What?"</p>
+
+<p>"I'll tell you. You remember that, when I came up to see you at the
+hotel yesterday afternoon, you were greatly put out, because you were
+afraid that I might have been followed, thus disclosing the name of your
+hotel to these people you are trying to avoid?"</p>
+
+<p>"Yes. I was afraid of it. And the people in question did find out in
+some way where I had taken Miss Morton and her mother, as I discovered
+last night."</p>
+
+<p>"They did not discover it through me."</p>
+
+<p>"How do you know?"</p>
+
+<p>"It came about in a curious way. After you told me, over the telephone,
+that you feared I might have been followed, I looked up the taxi driver
+who took me uptown, and asked him if anyone had tried to question him. I
+thought that possibly this hotel might have been watched, and, if so,
+the person who was watching it might have noticed the number of my car,
+or the driver, and later, applied to him for information. I saw him as
+soon as I returned. No one had done so."</p>
+
+<p>"That is all very well, but they might have asked him, and found out
+where he drove you, later."</p>
+
+<p>"They did ask him, later. Why is it, Richard, that you seem to forget
+that I have done detective work before, too? I suspected that he might
+be approached, and I subsidized him&mdash;gave him ten dollars, and
+instructed him to let me know, in case anyone questioned him about <a name="me" id="me"></a>me."</p>
+
+<p>"Well, late yesterday afternoon, a woman, answering the description you
+give, did apply to the cabman to find out where he had driven me.
+Naturally he told her nothing. Then, thinking, I suppose, that I might
+repeat my visit, she gave him five dollars, and told him to let her know
+in case I drove from here to any other hotel. She figured, no doubt,
+that being your wife, I was certain to go and see you."</p>
+
+<p>Duvall sat forward in his chair, an eager look upon his face.</p>
+
+<p>"You did splendidly, Grace," he said. "Much better than I have done. But
+the important point is this. How was the cabman to let her know, and
+where? Did she give him her name and address?"</p>
+
+<p><a name="she" id="she"></a>"She gave him a name and address. It is about that, that I wanted to see
+you."</p>
+
+<p>"What was it?"</p>
+
+<p>"Alice Watson. General Delivery. He was to write her a letter."</p>
+
+<p>Duvall sank back in his chair with a disappointed look.</p>
+
+<p>"An assumed name, of course," he said. "I'm afraid it won't be of much
+service to us."</p>
+
+<p>"But why? I was going to write this woman a letter, giving her the name
+of some other hotel&mdash;any one would do. Then, she would come there to
+find you, we could have the cabman, Leary, on watch to point her out,
+and in that way identify her and perhaps follow her to her home." Duvall
+shook his head.</p>
+
+<p>"It would have worked splendidly, my dear," he said, "except for the
+fact that in some way the woman has already discovered the name of my
+hotel. She will not go to the general delivery window at the post office
+to get it, now, for she already knows it. And if she did, she would
+realize as soon as she read your letter that you were not telling her
+the truth. Is that what you have been so busy about?" He glanced at the
+half-finished letter that lay on his wife's desk.</p>
+
+<p>"Yes." Grace looked at him rather sheepishly. "I am terribly
+disappointed," she said. "I really hoped that I had discovered something
+that would help you." She took from the desk the piece of paper that
+contained Alice Watson's address, and tearing it into bits, dropped them
+slowly into the waste basket.</p>
+
+<p>Duvall observed her action.</p>
+
+<p>"What are you tearing up?" he asked.</p>
+
+<p>"Oh, nothing. Merely the bit of paper that contained the woman's assumed
+name and address. It is of no use any longer." She glanced at a scrap of
+the paper, about half an inch square, that remained between her fingers,
+then started. "There must have been something on the other side," she
+exclaimed. "There's a part of a name here&mdash;printed or engraved. It looks
+like 'Ford.'"</p>
+
+<p>Duvall sprang from his chair and made a dive for the scrap basket.</p>
+
+<p>"Ford!" he exclaimed. "That's queer! We must get every scrap of that
+card at once."</p>
+
+<p>It took the two of them several minutes to gather from the basket the
+tiny pieces into which Grace had torn the bit of paper. Then they fitted
+them together. Duvall saw at once, as soon as he picked up the first
+scrap, that the address had been written on a card. When the several
+pieces had at last been assembled upon the top of the desk, it became
+quite clear that the Watson name and address had been hastily scrawled
+upon the torn half of a visiting card. Slowly and carefully Duvall
+turned the bits over. The words engraved upon the opposite side filled
+him with delight.</p>
+
+<p>There were first the letters "cia," followed by the name "Ford." Beneath
+were two figures, a "6" and a "2," and after them, West 57th Street.</p>
+
+<p>Duvall gazed at the result in surprise, then taking from his pocketbook
+the torn half of the card he had found the night before in the cab, he
+laid it beside the fragments on the desk. The two fitted exactly. The
+name and address were both plain. Evidently the woman who had
+interviewed the cabman, Leary, and the woman who had escaped from the
+cab were one and the same. She had taken a card from her purse, torn it
+in half, written the "Alice Watson" address that she gave the cabman on
+one half, and thrust the other back into her handbag. Later, when Duvall
+had attempted to examine the contents of the bag, the bit of card had
+fallen to the floor. All that was sufficiently clear.</p>
+
+<p>Grace, looking over her husband's shoulder, read the completed name and
+address.</p>
+
+<p>"Miss Marcia Ford," she exclaimed. "162 West 57th Street. Why, Richard,
+there is the name and address of the woman you want."</p>
+
+<p>"It may be her address," her husband remarked, gloomily, "but it
+certainly isn't her name."</p>
+
+<p>"But&mdash;Why not?"</p>
+
+<p>"Because I saw Marcia Ford this morning, and <i>she isn't the woman</i>!"</p>
+
+<p>Grace looked at him in astonishment. "Are you sure?" she cried.</p>
+
+<p>"Perfectly. Marcia Ford is not the one we are after."</p>
+
+<p>"Then how do you explain the woman having a card with that name on it?"</p>
+
+<p>"I don't explain it&mdash;unless," he paused for a moment in thought. "Unless
+this Ford woman, and the other one, are in league with each other, which
+might account for the latter having her card in her purse."</p>
+
+<p>"And the address! Is that where Marcia Ford lives?"</p>
+
+<p>"I don't know. It may be where they both live, for all I can tell. I
+only hope it is." He rose and took up his hat.</p>
+
+<p>"Where are you going?" Grace asked.</p>
+
+<p>"To 162 West 57th Street." Suddenly he took his wallet from his pocket,
+snatched a second card from it, and after looking at it for a moment,
+gave an exclamation of delighted surprise.</p>
+
+<p>"What is it?" Grace asked quickly.</p>
+
+<p>He thrust the card into her hand. Grace glanced at it, without quite
+understanding what it meant.</p>
+
+<p>"I don't see what you mean," she exclaimed. "The thing is clear enough.
+The card I have just given you belongs to Miss Ruth Morton."</p>
+
+<p>"I see that, but&mdash;&mdash;"</p>
+
+<p>"Then surely you must see that Miss Morton's apartment also is on
+Fifty-seventh Street, and just two doors from the address of Miss Marcia
+Ford!"</p>
+
+<br />
+
+<h2><a name="CHAPTER_XIII" id="CHAPTER_XIII"></a>CHAPTER XIII</h2>
+
+
+<p>Duvall, upon discovering that the address of Miss Marcia Ford was on
+West 57th Street, but two doors from the building in which the Morton
+apartment was located, began to feel that he was on the right track. He
+had known, ever since his first day upon the case, that the mysterious
+messages found in Ruth Morton's bedroom had been placed there by some
+ingenious but perfectly natural means. The apparition that had so
+startled the girl upon her last night at the flat was capable, of
+course, of some reasonable explanation. When he left Mr. Baker in the
+morning his plan had been to go to Mrs. Morton's apartment and once more
+investigate all possible means of entrance, hoping that, by finding out
+how the messages were delivered, he might also be able to find out by
+whom. It was for this reason that he had asked Mrs. Morton for the key
+to the apartment.</p>
+
+<p>Now the question seemed in a fair way to being answered for him. The
+fact that this girl's room was located so near to the Mortons' apartment
+could not be a mere coincidence. There must be, between her room and the
+Morton flat some means of communication, although of what nature he
+could not now surmise. Fully convinced, however, that he might very soon
+find out, he hurried up to Fifty-seventh Street and walked along until
+he reached No. 162.</p>
+
+<p>The house was, like that which immediately adjoined the apartment
+building, an old-fashioned one, of brown stone, with a high front stoop.
+It presented an appearance which, if not exactly dilapidated, was yet in
+strong contrast to the neat appearance of its neighbors. A printed card
+in one of the lower front windows indicated that roomers were wanted.</p>
+
+<p>It was just the sort of place that Duvall had expected to find&mdash;just the
+sort of place in which a working girl like Marcia Ford would live.
+Located in a very excellent neighborhood, surrounded by apartment
+buildings and houses of the best type, it still could afford to rent
+rooms at the moderate figure that one of her class could pay. He went up
+the front steps and rang the bell. "Is Miss Ford in? Miss Marcia Ford?"
+he asked.</p>
+
+<p>The servant who came to the door, a neatly dressed German girl, shook
+her head.</p>
+
+<p>"No, Miss Ford is not in. She usually gets back about half past six."</p>
+
+<p>Duvall glanced at his watch. It was not yet three o'clock. He realized
+that he had a long wait before him.</p>
+
+<p>"Will you leave any message?" the girl asked.</p>
+
+<p>"No. It is not important. I will come back." Descending the steps he
+walked slowly in the direction of the apartment building, two doors
+away.</p>
+
+<p>Entering, he made his way to Mrs. Morton's apartment. The place was just
+as they had left it, two days before. The windows had all been tightly
+closed and fastened, and there were no further mysterious messages lying
+about. Once more Duvall went to Ruth Morton's room, and opening the two
+windows looked out.</p>
+
+<p>His investigations, however, told him no more than he had learned
+before. The three dormer windows in the home next door gazed vacantly
+down at him, their windows covered with cobwebs and dust. The
+impossibility of anyone making their way from even the nearest of them,
+to the window where he stood, was manifest. And that a long rod or pole
+could have been utilized to introduce the letters into the girl's room
+was even more impossible. He shook his head, then turned to the other
+window, that facing upon the fire escape.</p>
+
+<p>Here, as on the occasion of his previous examination, the smooth glossy
+surface of the freshly dried paint showed no marks, except those he had
+himself made during his former visit. And yet, as his eyes searched the
+grated surface, he saw that there was something there, something that
+had not been there before. He reached out and picked it up.</p>
+
+<p>It was a woman's handkerchief, a tiny square of lace-edged linen, of an
+inexpensive variety. But it was not the mere presence of the
+handkerchief that so interested him. It might readily have belonged to
+Miss Morton herself, and have been accidentally dropped from the window.
+There were two things about this particular handkerchief, however, that
+marked it as a clue of the utmost value. One was the fact that in its
+corner was embroidered an initial, the letter "F." The other was that
+two of the corners of the handkerchief were knotted together, as though
+it had been tied about someone's wrist, for what reason, he could not
+imagine.</p>
+
+<p>The latter feature puzzled the detective greatly. He could not form any
+hypothesis to account for it. If the Ford woman, as indicated by the
+presence of the handkerchief, marked with an "F," had been on the
+fire-escape, why were there no tell-tale marks to indicate it? And if
+she had not been there, why was her handkerchief found there, knotted in
+this peculiar way? Had it formed part of some apparatus, some device,
+made of a pole and a cord, for inserting the threatening letters through
+the window? If so, it might, of course, have become detached while the
+device was being used. Duvall remembered that he had not examined the
+fire escape on the night when the astonishing apparition had appeared
+beside Ruth Morton's bed, <i>because the window opening on the fire escape
+had been closed and locked</i>. Had the handkerchief been left there then?
+He sat for a long time in the deserted library, trying to hit upon some
+reasonable theory to explain the matter, but his efforts resulted in
+failure. Not the least confusing feature of the affair was the fact that
+the woman, Marcia Ford, <i>was not the woman he was seeking</i>. He had seen
+her at the studio that morning, and knew that she was not the one who
+had escaped from the cab the night before. Were there then two working
+together? If so, he would, through the Ford girl, in all probability be
+able to trace her confederate. He waited patiently until the waning
+afternoon light told him that it was time to begin his watch before the
+house at number 162.</p>
+
+<p>Across the street a residence, closed for the summer, its front entrance
+boarded up, afforded him a convenient place to wait. He sat down upon
+the steps, and pretended to be occupied with a newspaper. His eyes,
+however, sought constantly the doorway opposite.</p>
+
+<p>A number of persons entered the place, during the next two hours, but
+Marcia Ford was not amongst them. As the darkness began to approach, and
+lights in the streets and houses flared up, Duvall rose, crossed the
+street, and stationed himself at a nearer point, from which he might the
+more certainly identify anyone entering the house. Miss Ford, however,
+failed to appear.</p>
+
+<p>From the sign in the window, to the effect that roomers were wanted,
+Duvall concluded that the Ford girl did not take her meals in the house.
+His watch showed him that it was nearly seven. Doubtless she had
+arranged to dine before returning home. In a flash it came to him that
+his opportunity to make an examination of her room was now at hand.</p>
+
+<p>To secure entrance to the room by the usual channels was clearly out of
+the question. The people at the boarding house would, of course, not
+permit it. But could he discover the means of communication, whatever
+they were, between Miss Morton's apartment and the girl's room, he might
+be able to enter the latter unknown and unobserved. He had thought of
+attempting this during the afternoon, but realized that he could not
+hope to accomplish it, in broad daylight, without being seen by the
+occupants of the neighboring buildings, and perhaps arrested as a
+burglar or sneak thief.</p>
+
+<p>With a last glance down the street, he hastened back to the apartment
+building and made his way to Mrs. Morton's flat. Passing quickly through
+Ruth Morton's bedroom, he climbed out upon the fire escape and looked
+about.</p>
+
+<p>Below him were the rear yards of the houses fronting on the next street.
+To the right he could see the bulk of the apartment building, blocking
+his view of the avenue beyond. To the left were the rear buildings of
+the adjoining houses. It was quite dark, the sky was starless, but all
+about him gleamed the lights in the windows of the neighboring
+buildings.</p>
+
+<p>Neither to the right, nor to the left was there any possible way by
+which access to the point where he now stood could be gained. From
+below, it was possible, although his previous examination had showed him
+both the fact that the newly painted surface of the fire escape was
+unmarred, and that the ladder at the lower floor was drawn up some nine
+or ten feet from the ground. He felt certain that Miss Ford had not
+reached Ruth's room in that way.</p>
+
+<p>He glanced upward. The fire escaped stopped at the level of the floor
+above. To ascend from it to the roof was impossible.</p>
+
+<p>Remembering that the top apartment was vacant, Duvall re-entered the
+building and hunting up the janitor, told him that he desired to get out
+on the roof.</p>
+
+<p>The man remembered him, from his first visit, and the inquiries he had
+then made about the tenants of the apartment above.</p>
+
+<p>"I am making some special inquiries on Mrs. Morton's behalf," he
+explained. "You can go with me, if you like, to see that I do nothing I
+shouldn't."</p>
+
+<p>The janitor joined in his laugh.</p>
+
+<p>"I'm not worrying," he rejoined, "but I'll go along, just the same, to
+show you the way." He led the detective up one flight of stairs and,
+going to the end of the outer hall, unlocked and opened a small door
+beside the elevator shaft. A short spiral staircase was disclosed.</p>
+
+<p>Snapping on an electric light, the man ascended the steps, and, after
+fumbling for a moment with the catch, threw open a trapdoor leading to
+the roof. In a moment both he and Duvall had climbed out upon the tiled
+surface. Duvall went to the edge which overlooked the house adjoining,
+and peered down. He at once saw something that interested him.</p>
+
+<p>The house with the dormer windows consisted, as has been previously
+mentioned, of four stories and an attic. Its roof rose several feet
+above the level of the window of Ruth's room, which was on the fourth
+floor of the apartment building. But Duvall saw at once that this
+elevation of the adjoining house did not extend all the way back, but,
+in fact, stopped a little beyond the point where it joined the
+apartment. From here to the rear of the lot the building had no attic,
+its rear extension being but four stories high. In this position on the
+apartment-house roof, the roof of the back building was at least fifteen
+feet below him.</p>
+
+<p>Another thing that he noticed at once was the fact that the second
+house, No. 162, was of almost the same design as the first, that is, it
+consisted of a main building with an attic, and a rear extension,
+reaching to the same level as that of the house between. It was clear
+that if anyone living in the second house could obtain access to the
+roof of the back building, he would be able to walk across that of the
+first or adjoining house, and reach a point directly beneath where he
+stood.</p>
+
+<p>But, granting the possibility of this, of what use would it be? A person
+on the roof below him would in no conceivable way be able to reach
+either of the windows of Ruth Morton's room. Was it possible that an
+opening had been made through the wall of the apartment building itself?
+He thought it unlikely, but determined to investigate.</p>
+
+<p>"I must get down on that roof below," he informed his companion. The
+janitor grinned.</p>
+
+<p>"How are you going to do it?" he asked.</p>
+
+<p>"Haven't you a ladder&mdash;a rope?"</p>
+
+<p>The man thought a moment.</p>
+
+<p>"I've got a short ladder in the cellar, only about eight feet long, I
+guess. I'm afraid it would not do."</p>
+
+<p>"Yes it would," replied Duvall, pointing to the roof of the attic
+portion of the house below. "I'll get down to the roof of the main part
+of the house first, and from there to the roof of the back building. An
+eight-foot ladder will be long enough for that. Bring it up, will you?"</p>
+
+<p>The man hesitated.</p>
+
+<p>"I don't just like this idea of going on other people's roofs," he said.</p>
+
+<p>"You don't need to go. I've got to. I'm a detective, and I'm working for
+Mrs. Morton on a most important case." As he spoke, he took a bill from
+his pocket and pressed it into the man's hand.</p>
+
+<p>The janitor responded at once.</p>
+
+<p>"I'll fetch it up, sir," he said. "Wait for me here."</p>
+
+<p>Duvall occupied the few moments consumed by the janitor's absence in
+examining, by means of his pocket electric torch, the surface of the
+roof on which he stood. The smooth flat terra cotta tiles showed no
+distinguishing marks. Here and there spots of paint, marred by
+footprints, indicated where the painters at work on the building had set
+their buckets, no doubt while painting the wooden portions of the
+trapdoor, and the metal chimney-pots on the roof.</p>
+
+<p>The man returned in a few moments with the ladder, and Duvall, lowering
+it to the level of the main portion of the adjoining house, saw that it
+was of sufficient length to permit his descent. In a moment he had
+slipped off his shoes, and was cautiously descending the ladder.</p>
+
+<p>Once on the surface of the main roof of the house, he had intended to
+take down the ladder and, by means of it, descend the remaining six or
+seven feet to the roof of the back building, but he found that means for
+this descent already existed. A rough but permanent wooden ladder led
+from the higher level to the lower. Duvall judged that it had been
+placed there to provide easy communication between the upper roof and
+the lower. Leaving the ladder where it stood, he made his way down to
+the roof of the back building. It was covered with tin, and he walked
+softly in his stockinged feet to avoid being overheard.</p>
+
+<p>His first act was to go to the wall of the apartment house which faced
+him, and make a thorough examination of it by the light of his electric
+torch. He judged that in the position in which he now stood he was about
+on a level with the floor of Ruth's room. The brick wall of the
+apartment building facing him was blank, that is, it contained no
+windows. After a minute examination, Duvall was forced to the conclusion
+that no entrance to the girl's bedroom had been made through it. The
+bricks were solid, immovable, the cemented joints firm and unbroken. A
+moment later he turned to the left.</p>
+
+<p>Here the rising wall of the attic story of the house faced him, reaching
+to a point above his head. Two dusty and long unopened dormer windows,
+similar to those facing on the court, confronted him. He remembered that
+the servant of the house next door had informed him, earlier in the
+week, that the attic was, and long had been, unoccupied.</p>
+
+<p>Whether the attic was tenanted or not, however, had no bearing on the
+problem which confronted him. The windows might serve as a means whereby
+anyone could reach the roof of the back building from the house proper,
+but they did not suggest any means whereby anyone might reach the
+windows of Ruth's bedroom. And by ascending to the point on the attic
+roof where his ladder stood, the problem was no nearer a solution, for a
+person standing there was on the edge of the court between the
+buildings, seven feet or more above the girl's bedroom window, and as
+many away from it. He turned away, and approaching the rear edge of the
+back building, looked over.</p>
+
+<p>To his left, some eight feet away, was the fire escape before the rear
+window of the girl's bedroom. Standing on that sharp edge, he realized
+that in no way could he reach the railing of the fire escape, except by
+jumping, a feat that an expert gymnast might have hesitated to attempt,
+at that height above the ground. And could it be done successfully, what
+about the crash, the noise which must inevitably result from such a
+performance? What about the damage to the paint upon the fire escape's
+iron surface? And yet it would seem that a young girl had accomplished
+this feat, without noise, without making the least mark to register her
+passage. He thought of the tell-tale handkerchief, which he had found on
+the fire escape earlier in the evening, then turned back with a feeling
+of annoyance. The thing was, he realized, an impossibility.</p>
+
+<p>A sudden sense of the passage of time made him hurry to the roof of the
+rear building of the house at No. 162. Like its neighbor, it was built
+with an attic story, and in the rear were two dormer windows opening in
+the same way upon the lower roof. Could these windows, by any chance, be
+those of the room of Marcia Ford? It seemed highly probable, since, if
+she had operated from the roof, they could afford an easy way to reach
+it. Very cautiously he crept up to the nearer of the two windows and
+looked in.</p>
+
+<p>The room before him was in total darkness, and the very faint radiance
+from without was not sufficient to enable him to distinguish anything
+within it. The window, however, he saw to his delight was open, and the
+opening, although small, was quite large enough to enable him to crawl
+in. Holding his electric torch in one hand, he crept into the room.</p>
+
+<p>The beam of light from his torch, although powerful, was, of course,
+very concentrated. He swept it about the room, to make sure that it was
+unoccupied. It was a small room, long and narrow, with the single dormer
+window, by which he had just entered, at one end, and a similar one at
+the side, in the slanting mansard roof. It contained a small bed, a
+chiffonier and dresser, a table, some chairs and a trunk. It was a
+woman's room; one glance at the dresser told him that, and a
+handkerchief lying crumpled on the latter's top proved to be identical
+with the one he had found on the fire escape, both in its general
+character, and in the initial "F" in one of its borders. Beyond any
+doubt, he was now in Marcia Ford's room.</p>
+
+<p>Had he been inclined to doubt it, two photographs upon the wall would
+have convinced him. One was a picture of the Ford girl herself. The
+other was a portrait of the woman of the cab, the one that Duvall fully
+believed to be the author of the attacks upon Ruth Morton.</p>
+
+<p>He examined the various articles about the room with the utmost care,
+but nothing of any interest rewarded his search. It had been his hope
+that he might find something of definite value&mdash;the typewriter, perhaps,
+upon which the threatening letters had been written, the black sealing
+wax, used in making the death's-head seals, the paper employed by the
+writer. None of these things was in evidence; there was no typewriter,
+the table contained a small bottle of ink, a couple of pens, and some
+cheap envelopes and a writing tablet of linen paper quite different from
+that upon which the warning letters had been written. There was nothing,
+absolutely nothing, in the place to connect its occupant with the
+sending of the letters, except the room's location, in such close
+proximity to that of Ruth Morton, and the photograph of the woman of the
+cab, hanging upon the wall.</p>
+
+<p>Duvall, greatly disappointed, was about to take his departure, when he
+observed at the far end of the room a door. Whether it led to another
+room, or to a bathroom, or merely to a closet, he did not, of course,
+know. There was danger, he fully realized, that Marcia Ford might return
+at any moment. There was equal danger that, upon opening the door, he
+might find himself in another room, possibly an occupied one. He thought
+at one time that he heard sounds on the far side of the door, but when
+he paused and stood listening he could distinguish nothing, and
+concluded that he had been mistaken. Shutting off the light of his
+pocket torch for the moment, in order that, should the entrance lead to
+another room, its rays might not betray his presence, Duvall grabbed the
+door knob, and, turning it softly, opened the door.</p>
+
+<p>For a moment he had a glimpse of a black cavern, and then, with
+incredible swiftness, something struck him a heavy blow in the face.
+What it was he was too much surprised and stunned to realize. His
+electric lamp fell from his hand, and clattered to the floor.</p>
+
+<p>Realizing his helplessness in the almost total darkness, he bent down,
+groping about in an unsuccessful effort to recover the searchlight. And
+then, with a loud cry, a heavy body projected itself upon him, grasping
+wildly at his hair. An arm, clothed in some silken material, encircled
+his throat. He felt himself choking. And at the same moment a strange
+and irrational terror seized him. He seemed in the grasp of something
+uncanny, something inhuman, in spite of its very human cries. With a
+shudder he sprang to his feet, unable to locate the missing electric
+torch, and shaking the shrieking figure from him, plunged toward the
+window by which he had entered. It was not alone the surprise, the
+nameless terror of the thing, that sent Duvall headlong from the room.
+He fully realized that the noise of the encounter, the shrieks of his
+assailant, would quickly bring the other inmates of the house to the
+room. He had no wish to be discovered there&mdash;his entrance had been too
+irregular, too illegal, for that. With extraordinary rapidity he flung
+himself through the window and without waiting to observe the results of
+his intrusion, sped swiftly across the roofs of the two buildings, up
+the steps to the attic roof, and from there, by means of the ladder, to
+the roof of the apartment building. The janitor sat where he had left
+him, smoking a pipe. Duvall looked back. Lights were visible in the room
+he had just left. He saw a figure, one that closely resembled Marcia
+Ford, cross the lighted area of the window. There was a second figure
+with her&mdash;smaller, shorter, he thought. Who&mdash;what was it that had
+attacked him? He stood in a daze, unable to grasp the meaning of the
+experience through which he had just passed.</p>
+
+<p>The janitor took his pipe from his mouth and rose.</p>
+
+<p>"Find what you were looking for?" he asked with a grin. Duvall shook his
+head.</p>
+
+<p>"No," he said. "Not exactly. But I'm on the track of it."</p>
+
+<p>"Want the ladder any more?"</p>
+
+<p>"No, not to-night." He assisted the man to draw it up to the roof.</p>
+
+<p>A few moments later he had reached the sidewalk. He glanced at his
+watch. It was just eight o'clock. As he walked toward the entrance of
+the house at No. 162, the front door opened, and a woman came out.</p>
+
+<p>Duvall quickened his pace, but the woman was also apparently in a great
+hurry. She ran swiftly across the sidewalk, and sprang into a cab which
+stood beside the curb. Duvall was able to get but a fleeting glance at
+her, but that glance was enough to convince him that she was the
+mysterious prisoner who had so neatly given him the slip while in the
+cab the night before. He sprang forward with a cry, but before he had
+come within ten feet of the cab, the vehicle dashed off and proceeded at
+a rapid rate up the street.</p>
+
+<p>A second cab came along at almost the same moment. Duvall hailed it, but
+the driver shook his head, indicating that he had a fare. In a moment
+the second cab had passed, apparently in hot pursuit of the first. There
+were no other cabs in sight. With a growl of anger and annoyance Duvall
+turned back to the door of No. 162.</p>
+
+<p>Should he ring the bell and ask for Miss Ford? he wondered. Of what use
+would it be, to request an interview? Yet there seemed to be nothing
+else that he could do. Miss Ford had not left the house, although the
+other woman, apparently her confederate, had done so. He stood in the
+shadow of the apartment building, trying to decide what move he should
+make next.</p>
+
+<br />
+
+<h2><a name="CHAPTER_XIV" id="CHAPTER_XIV"></a>CHAPTER XIV</h2>
+
+
+<p>Grace Duvall, on being left at the hotel by her husband, spent a long
+and very tiresome afternoon. She had expected Richard back long before,
+with news, perhaps, of a successful investigation of the woman, Marcia
+Ford, whose address was so near that of the Mortons. But when six
+o'clock came, and went, with no news of her husband, Grace came to the
+conclusion that he had probably struck a long trail, and being a
+normally healthy person, with an excellent appetite, she went to the
+dining room and ordered dinner, leaving word at the desk where she would
+be, in case Richard returned.</p>
+
+<p>Her lonely meal was over by seven, and, not knowing what to do next,
+Grace went out on the sidewalk, with the intention of looking for her
+friend of the evening before, the taxicab driver, Leary. It was possible
+that the man might have something more to report. As she reached the
+door, she saw him descend from his cab. He came forward at once, tipping
+his cap.</p>
+
+<p>"Taxi, ma'am," he asked.</p>
+
+<p>"No, I don't think so, Leary. Anything new?"</p>
+
+<p>"Not a thing, ma'am. Haven't seen that party since. Can't I take you for
+a drive, ma'am?"</p>
+
+<p>Grace was on the point of refusing, when a sudden idea came to her. She
+hastily opened her pocketbook, tore out the pieces of the visiting card
+that Duvall had left upon the table, and fitted them together.</p>
+
+<p>"Drive me to 162 W. 57th Street," she directed, and stepped into the
+cab.</p>
+
+<p>Leary touched his cap, and in a few moments they were speeding up the
+Avenue.</p>
+
+<p>"Don't go right up to the address," Grace told him through the speaking
+tube. "Stop a little below, but in a place where I can see the door."</p>
+
+<p>The man nodded, and a little later they turned into 57th Street and drew
+up alongside the curb.</p>
+
+<p>"Do you think you would recognize the woman who gave you the card, last
+night?" Grace asked.</p>
+
+<p>"Yes, ma'am. I think I should, ma'am."</p>
+
+<p>"Very well. Watch the doorway of number 162. If she goes in let me know.
+If she comes out, follow her. I shall probably recognize her myself, if
+she is the woman I think. I saw her for a few moments at the Grand
+Theater last night. But she may not be the same one. We'll know that
+later."</p>
+
+<p>Leary nodded, and they began a long wait. After what seemed to Grace an
+interminable time, they saw a taxicab come rapidly down the street,
+execute a turn, and draw up before the door of number 162.</p>
+
+<p>Grace, as soon as she realized the cab's destination, sprang to the
+sidewalk and strolled carelessly along in the direction of the house.
+The cab came to a standstill just before she reached it, and two women
+got out. One of them Grace had never seen before. The other she
+recognized at once. It was the woman who had fainted in the theater the
+previous night.</p>
+
+<p>Neither of the women paid any attention to her, but directing the cabman
+to wait, passed quickly into the house.</p>
+
+<p>Grace went back to her cab and got in.</p>
+
+<p>"The woman I am looking for has just driven up in that cab," she said.
+"She has gone into the house. The cab is to wait. When she comes out
+again, follow her." Leary nodded, and the two of them settled down for
+what they supposed would be a long wait. To their surprise, scarcely ten
+minutes had passed before the door of No. 162 was suddenly opened, and
+the woman whom Grace had recognized dashed down the steps and sprang
+into the waiting cab. At almost the same moment Grace saw her husband
+start forward from the direction of the apartment building, as though in
+pursuit of her.</p>
+
+<p>There was no time, however, to wait for him. The cab ahead had already
+started off, and Leary, true to his instructions, was speeding after it.
+In a moment both vehicles had turned into Seventh Avenue and were
+driving rapidly uptown.</p>
+
+<p>As minute after minute sped by, Grace began to realize that the chase
+might prove a long one. They had already crossed to Central Park West,
+and were now speeding northward again in the neighborhood of 72nd
+Street. Then, to Grace's surprise, the cab ahead swerved into a side
+street, and drew up before the entrance of the hotel at which Ruth
+Morton and her mother were stopping. The cab had no sooner stopped than
+the woman sprang out and entered the lobby.</p>
+
+<p>Grace followed her without a moment's hesitation, ordering Leary to
+wait. The woman hurried up to the desk and, taking a blank card from it,
+scribbled a few words upon it in pencil, and handed it to the clerk.
+Grace was unable to hear what she said to him, but the man nodded, and
+handed the card to a bellboy. The woman sat down in a nearby chair.</p>
+
+<p>Grace, having nothing else to do, and being somewhat afraid that the
+woman might recognize her, crossed at once to the opposite side of the
+lobby and, going to the news stand, spent some time in selecting and
+purchasing a magazine. She stood with her back to the woman, screened by
+a large palm, but at the same time managed to keep a fairly close watch
+upon her.</p>
+
+<p>It was several minutes before anything happened. Then an elderly lady
+emerged from one of the elevators, and under the guidance of a bellboy
+approached the woman Grace had been following. Grace did not remember
+having ever seen the older woman before, but she had a distinct
+impression that it might be Mrs. Morton. She strolled over to the desk,
+and addressed the clerk in a low voice.</p>
+
+<p>"Is that Mrs. Morton&mdash;the elderly lady in black?" she asked. The clerk
+stared at her, but his reserve melted before her charming smile.</p>
+
+<p>"No, Miss," he said. "That is Mrs. Bradley."</p>
+
+<p>"Thank you." Grace gave a sigh of relief, and turned away.</p>
+
+<p>Looking once more toward the two women, she saw that the older one was
+addressing her companion with something of reserve, as though she had
+never met her before. The younger woman spoke quickly, smilingly, for a
+few moments, shook hands with her companion, and turned away. Grace saw
+that she was about to leave, and at once followed her, although at a
+little distance, so as not to excite her suspicions. When she reached
+the sidewalk the other woman had already entered her cab, and seemed
+about to drive off.</p>
+
+<p>The cab, however, merely moved to a position a little further down the
+street, and by the time Grace had entered her own vehicle the other had
+again become stationary.</p>
+
+<p>This maneuver struck Grace as extremely peculiar. She told Leary to
+remain where he was, and with some misgivings, awaited the woman's next
+move.</p>
+
+<p>After a time she saw Mrs. Bradley, who had gone toward the elevators as
+Grace left the lobby, come out, signal for a taxicab, and drive quickly
+off. Leary was obliged to draw up with his machine, in order to leave a
+clear space before the door.</p>
+
+<p>A few seconds later Grace saw the woman she had been following spring
+from her cab, come rapidly along the sidewalk, and once more enter the
+lobby. Grace again followed her, just in time to see that instead of
+applying at the desk, as before, she went directly to one of the
+elevators, entered, and was whisked out of sight.</p>
+
+<p>Grace's heart almost stood still with fear. She had not appreciated the
+meaning of the woman's actions before. Now they were only too clear. She
+had evidently gotten Mrs. Morton, whom Grace suddenly remembered had
+been registered under an assumed name, out of the way on some pretext or
+other, and had gone to Ruth's room, with the intention, no doubt, of
+carrying out her previous threats. The situation was frightful. It would
+admit of no delay. Grace dashed to the desk and began to speak rapidly,
+in a frightened voice, to the clerk.</p>
+
+<p>"That woman"&mdash;she exclaimed&mdash;"the one who just went up in the
+elevator&mdash;she is going to Miss Ruth Morton's room&mdash;you must stop
+her&mdash;there is no telling what she may not do&mdash;send up, quick&mdash;quick!
+Miss Morton is in the greatest danger."</p>
+
+<p>The clerk looked at her, his mouth half open with surprise.</p>
+
+<p>"I&mdash;what do you mean, Miss? I don't understand you. We have no Miss
+Morton here." He regarded Grace apprehensively, and out of the corner of
+his eye looked toward the cashier, as though he contemplated calling on
+him for assistance in case this apparently mad woman became violent.</p>
+
+<p>Grace gave a groan of despair.</p>
+
+<p>"The daughter of the elderly lady, about whom I asked you before. Her
+name is Morton. Her daughter Ruth is staying here under an assumed
+name&mdash;Bradley, you say it is. Oh&mdash;please be quick. I know what I am
+talking about. That woman who came here a while ago is a dangerous
+character. She gave Mrs. Morton some message or other to get her out of
+the way, and as soon as she had gone came back into the hotel and went
+upstairs in the elevator. Didn't you see her?"</p>
+
+<p>"Yes, Miss, I saw her. She was a friend of Mrs. Bradley's, she said, and
+I supposed Mrs. Bradley had told her to go upstairs."</p>
+
+<p>"I tell you, that woman who just went upstairs means harm&mdash;terrible
+harm, to Miss Bradley&mdash;Miss Morton. Oh&mdash;don't stand there wasting time.
+Come up with me at once, and you will see that I am right&mdash;&mdash;"</p>
+
+<p>"But&mdash;who are you, Miss? What have you to do with the matter?"</p>
+
+<p>"What difference does that make, if what I say is true? If you must
+know, I am a detective employed by Mrs. Morton&mdash;&mdash;"</p>
+
+<p>"Employed by Mrs. Morton! And yet you didn't know her when you saw her!
+My dear woman, your story does not hang together&mdash;&mdash;"</p>
+
+<p>"It is my husband, Mr. Duvall, who is employed by her. He was registered
+here under the name of Bradley, too. I am trying to help him."</p>
+
+<p>"Oh!" The clerk seemed somewhat more inclined to accord her serious
+attention. "Very well. I will go to the room with you, and see if
+everything is all right."</p>
+
+<p>"And hurry, please&mdash;hurry." Grace started toward the elevators.</p>
+
+<p>Then a sudden thought came to her. Suppose the woman was to make her
+escape, coming down in one of the elevators, while she and the clerk
+were going up in another. There had been ample time, she knew, for her
+to have murdered Ruth, were that her plan, and have already left the
+room.</p>
+
+<p>"Wait just a moment," she cried to the clerk, who had said a few words
+to one of his assistants and was leaving the desk to join her. "I must
+speak to my cabman, but I'll be back in a moment." She dashed through
+the entrance doors and hurried to the point where Leary sat at his
+steering wheel.</p>
+
+<p>"Wait here," she whispered to him, "until I come back, unless the woman
+we have been following comes out. If she does come out, and drive away,
+follow her, and find out where she goes. Then telephone me here. I will
+leave my name at the desk, and wait until I hear from you."</p>
+
+<p>Leary nodded, and Grace quickly re-entered the lobby and joined the
+waiting clerk.</p>
+
+<p>"Instruct your telephone operators," she said to him, "to let me know,
+in case anyone calls up Mrs. Duvall."</p>
+
+<p>The clerk gave the necessary instructions, and the two then entered one
+of the elevators and quickly made their way to the seventh floor, upon
+which Mrs. Morton's apartment was located.</p>
+
+<p>There was no one in the corridor when they left the elevator, and the
+clerk, who knew the location of the suite, hastened to it at once.</p>
+
+<p>They reached the door. Grace was conscious of a feeling of apprehension,
+a sense of impending disaster. Her heart pounded violently as she waited
+for the answer to the clerk's knocks. She waited in vain. Only silence,
+grim, terrible, rewarded his efforts.</p>
+
+<p>"Something <i>has</i> happened," Grace whispered, as the clerk again rapped
+upon the door, this time more loudly than before.</p>
+
+<p>Again there was no reply, no evidence of the presence of anyone in the
+girl's rooms.</p>
+
+<p>"Open the door!" Grace cried. "Something terrible must have occurred!"</p>
+
+<p>The clerk took the pass key with which he had provided himself, and
+inserted it in the lock. A moment later the door swung open, and the two
+of them entered the room.</p>
+
+<p>It was in total darkness. Grace clutched at her heart, fearing what she
+believed the switching on of the lights would reveal. The clerk, without
+loss of time, pressed the push button near the door. The room was at
+once flooded with light.</p>
+
+<p>Grace glanced about, then gave a momentary sigh of relief. The room, the
+small parlor of the suite, was quite vacant. At its further end the door
+to Ruth Morton's bedroom stood ajar.</p>
+
+<p>With the clerk beside her, Grace hurriedly crossed the room. With a
+prayer in her heart she pushed open the bedroom door. Her companion at
+the same moment felt along the door-jamb for the electric switch. In an
+instant the bedroom lights were turned on.</p>
+
+<p>Then Grace saw that her fears had been fully justified. On the floor,
+halfway between the door and the bed, lay Ruth Morton, apparently
+lifeless. Her face was the color of chalk, her eyes were closed. With a
+cry, Grace fell on her knees beside the unconscious girl and with
+trembling fingers felt her heart. The clerk, a weak-faced young man,
+stood gazing at the scene before him in amazed horror.</p>
+
+<p>"She isn't dead!" Grace exclaimed, turning an excited face to him. "Her
+heart is still beating. Send for a doctor, quick!" Then, taking the
+unconscious girl in her arms, she lifted her to the bed.</p>
+
+<br />
+
+<h2><a name="CHAPTER_XV" id="CHAPTER_XV"></a>CHAPTER XV</h2>
+
+
+<p>Richard Duvall, realizing that the woman he sought had once more eluded
+him, was for the moment unable to decide what to do next. He was
+oppressed by a sense of failure. Apparently this enemy of Ruth Morton's
+was far more resourceful than he had supposed. She had gotten clear
+away, and there appeared no means by which he could trace her. That the
+second cab, the one he had hailed, contained Grace, did not of course
+occur to him. The trail appeared to be hopelessly lost.</p>
+
+<p>Still, his investigations in Miss Ford's room had not been entirely
+fruitless, although they had also added a startlingly new element to the
+mystery of the case. Who was the person who had attacked him from the
+closet? Was it the woman who had just left the house? He did not think
+so. Nor was it Miss Ford herself. There had been something uncanny about
+the whole experience; he was by no means certain that his assailant had
+been a human being at all. And yet, its cries&mdash;its fingers, tearing at
+his throat. He was unable to account for the experience at all, and
+determined, as soon as possible, to repeat his visit, and sift the
+matter to the bottom.</p>
+
+<p>He remembered that he had seen two persons in the Ford girl's room,
+after his hasty retreat. Two women, he thought, outlined against the
+lighted square of the window. One of these had already left the house.
+The other, Miss Ford herself, was still there. He determined to
+interview her at once.</p>
+
+<p>Of course, he told himself, to do so would put her on her guard, but his
+visit to her room had already done that, and doubtless accounted for her
+companion's hasty flight. And there was something to be gained, by
+letting her realize that she was under suspicion. She would at once try
+to communicate with, to warn, her confederate, and it was in just such
+ways as this, Duvall's experience told him, that criminals so often
+betrayed themselves. If, by frightening Miss Ford, he could cause her to
+flee&mdash;to join her companion&mdash;the tracing of the latter would become
+comparatively simple. He went up to the door of No. 162 and rang the
+bell.</p>
+
+<p>The same woman answered his summons as had answered before. She seemed
+somewhat uneasy&mdash;disturbed.</p>
+
+<p>"I want to see Miss Marcia Ford," Duvall told her.</p>
+
+<p>"Very well, sir. Come in. I will tell Miss Ford. What name, please?"</p>
+
+<p>"Say that Mr. Bradley is calling."</p>
+
+<p>The girl ushered him into a dark parlor, lighted by a single lowered gas
+jet, and suggestive of the gloom of ages, in its walnut furniture, its
+dismal pictures and ornaments. He took a seat, and waited for the
+appearance of Miss Ford.</p>
+
+<p>She arrived in a few moments, a slender, ordinary-looking girl, in white
+shirtwaist and black skirt.</p>
+
+<p>"You are Mr. Bradley?" she asked, regarding the detective with a look of
+inquiry.</p>
+
+<p>"Yes. I came to see you about a matter of <a name="importance" id="importance"></a>importance."</p>
+
+<p>"What is it?"</p>
+
+<p>"Who was the woman who just left here&mdash;the woman who had just come in
+with you?" Miss Ford favored the detective with a glassy stare.</p>
+
+<p>"I do not understand you," she exclaimed. "I came home alone. What is
+the purpose of these questions?"</p>
+
+<p>Duvall felt that he had a shrewd opponent to deal with.</p>
+
+<p>"Are you acquainted with Miss Ruth Morton?" he asked.</p>
+
+<p>"Why&mdash;certainly&mdash;that is, I know her by reputation, She works for the
+same company as I do. Why do you ask?"</p>
+
+<p>"Miss Morton has recently been the subject of a shameful persecution.
+The woman who just left this house is concerned in it. Who is she?"</p>
+
+<p>"I do not know what you are talking about," the girl exclaimed, angrily.
+"I know nothing about any woman. You must pardon me, Mr. Bradley, if I
+decline to be questioned in this way any further." She moved toward the
+door.</p>
+
+<p>"Then you wish me to understand that the woman who just left this house
+did not come here with you?"</p>
+
+<p>"Understand anything you please. I decline to be questioned any
+further." With a look of anger she left the room.</p>
+
+<p>Duvall made his way back to the sidewalk, thoroughly satisfied with the
+results of his visit. The Ford woman, in the first place, had lied. The
+other woman had been with her, beyond a doubt. Duvall thought of her
+picture on the wall of Miss Ford's room. The latter's reason for lying
+was equally clear. She and the woman with her were guilty.</p>
+
+<p>In the second place, Miss Ford now realized fully that she was under
+direct suspicion. If, this being the case, she failed to take some step
+that would be fatal to both her confederate and herself, Duvall felt
+that he would be very much surprised. He made up his mind to keep close
+watch upon the house.</p>
+
+<p>Suddenly it occurred to him that Grace might be of immense service to
+him at this juncture. She could follow the Ford girl, unknown,
+unrecognized, while he himself could not. He decided to call her up at
+once, and ask her to join him.</p>
+
+<p>At the corner, the lights of a saloon glowed brilliantly. With a final
+glance at the dark doorway of No. 162, he walked quickly down the street
+He felt that, if he hurried, he need not be away from his post more than
+a few moments.</p>
+
+<p>The call to his hotel developed the fact that Grace was not in. There
+was a lady asking for him, however, the clerk said, an elderly woman,
+who gave her name as Mrs. Morton. She had just come in, and seemed
+greatly agitated at not having found him.</p>
+
+<p>The name, Mrs. Morton, filled Duvall with sudden apprehension.</p>
+
+<p>"I'll speak to her, please," he said. A moment later, he recognized the
+voice of Mrs. Morton over the 'phone.</p>
+
+<p>"Is this Mr. Duvall?"</p>
+
+<p>"Yes."</p>
+
+<p>"This is Mrs. Morton. Your wife came to me, a little while ago, and said
+that you wanted to see me at your hotel at once. She explained that it
+was of the utmost importance. Why are you not here?"</p>
+
+<p>"I sent no such message."</p>
+
+<p>"No such message! Then who did?"</p>
+
+<p>"I do not know. You left your daughter alone?"</p>
+
+<p>"Yes."</p>
+
+<p>"Then, Mrs. Morton, I am afraid you have been imposed upon. Wait where
+you are. I will join you at once."</p>
+
+<p>"Hurry, then, Mr. Duvall. If what you say is true, we do not know what
+may have happened."</p>
+
+<p>"I will be with you in fifteen minutes."</p>
+
+<p>The astonishing news given to him by Mrs. Morton filled Duvall with
+alarm. Clearly the supposed message from him had been part of a scheme
+to get her away from the hotel, to leave Ruth there alone. He scarcely
+dared think of the consequences. The following of Miss Ford now became a
+matter of secondary importance. Fearing the worst, he signaled to a
+passing taxicab, and drove as rapidly as possible to his hotel.</p>
+
+<p>Mrs. Morton awaited him in the lobby. She was in a state of the utmost
+excitement.</p>
+
+<p>"We must go back to the hotel at once," she cried. "Ruth is there all
+alone."</p>
+
+<p>"Where is her maid, Nora?"</p>
+
+<p>"I let her go out, this evening."</p>
+
+<p>"Then you should not have left the hotel."</p>
+
+<p>"I would not have done so, but for this imperative message from you."</p>
+
+<p>"What was the message?"</p>
+
+<p>"Your wife, or at least a woman claiming to be your wife, came to see me
+a little after eight o'clock. She said you had arrested the woman who
+has been sending these threats to my daughter, and that you needed me at
+once, to make a charge against her at the police station. I naturally
+came here immediately."</p>
+
+<p>"The woman who told you this&mdash;she couldn't have been my wife. Describe
+her."</p>
+
+<p>"She was slight, small, neatly but not expensively dressed, with light
+eyes and hair."</p>
+
+<p>"That was not Mrs. Duvall, but it answers very well the description of
+the woman we are seeking. What did she do, when you left the hotel?"</p>
+
+<p>"I thought she also left."</p>
+
+<p>"You are not sure of this?"</p>
+
+<p>"No."</p>
+
+<p>"Then we have no time to lose. Come." He escorted Mrs. Morton to a
+taxicab, and instructed the chauffeur to drive to her hotel at top
+speed.</p>
+
+<p>Mrs. Morton had very little to say on the way uptown. She was naturally
+in a state of greatest excitement. Duvall, too, was greatly concerned.
+He knew that the false message had not been given by Grace. What purpose
+had the woman in mind, in getting rid of Mrs. Morton? The realization of
+what might have happened to Ruth alarmed him beyond measure.</p>
+
+<p>The drive to the hotel occupied but a few moments, but to Duvall it
+seemed hours. When they at last drew up before the hotel door, he sprang
+to the sidewalk, ordered the chauffeur to wait, and with Mrs. Morton at
+his side, hurried into the lobby.</p>
+
+<p>"Give me my key," Mrs. Morton cried, pausing for a moment at the desk.
+Then, with Duvall at her heels, she rushed to the elevator.</p>
+
+<p>As soon as they arrived at the door of the suite, it was apparent that
+something was wrong. The door stood open. The clerk, with one of the
+maids, occupied the little parlor. Through the open door of the bedroom
+Duvall caught a glimpse of Ruth, lying in bed, the figure of a
+heavily-set, bearded man bending over her.</p>
+
+<p>"Mrs. Bradley!" the clerk exclaimed, as soon as he caught sight of Mrs.
+Morton. "I'm so glad you have come. Your daughter has had an&mdash;an
+accident!"</p>
+
+<p>Mrs. Morton paid scant attention to his words. She, too, had seen
+through the doorway the figure of her daughter lying in the bed. With a
+cry, she passed the clerk unnoticing, and went toward the bedroom door.</p>
+
+<p>"Ruth!" she exclaimed, in an agonized voice, then rushed into the room
+beyond.</p>
+
+<br />
+
+<h2><a name="CHAPTER_XVI" id="CHAPTER_XVI"></a>CHAPTER XVI</h2>
+
+
+<p>When Grace Duvall, accompanied by the hotel clerk, found Ruth Morton
+lying on the floor in the parlor of her suite, her first act had been to
+call for a doctor.</p>
+
+<p>Her second was to gather the unconscious girl in her arms, and carry her
+into the adjoining bedroom.</p>
+
+<p>That Ruth was alive, filled Grace with joy. She had feared something far
+worse might have befallen the girl. Yet it was clear that some terrible
+shock had operated to reduce her to the condition in which she had been
+found. What this shock was, Grace could only surmise.</p>
+
+<p>She placed the girl upon the bed, and proceeded to remove her clothing.
+By the time she had gotten her beneath the sheets, the clerk came in,
+accompanied by the hotel physician.</p>
+
+<p>The latter, after a hasty examination, turned to Grace with a grave
+look. "The young woman has experienced a terrible shock of some sort,"
+he said. "She is very weak, and her heart action is bad." He took some
+tablets from a bottle in his medicine case, and called for a glass of
+water. "Severe nerve-shock of this sort is a serious matter," he
+exclaimed. "Sometimes it is fatal, at others the mind may be permanently
+affected. The young lady must be kept absolutely quiet, of course. We
+will hope for the best. Give her a tablespoonful of this solution every
+hour. Force her to take it, even if she does not regain consciousness. I
+will look in again in an hour or two. But be sure that she is kept
+absolutely quiet."</p>
+
+<p>Grace sat beside the unconscious girl for a long time in silence. Once
+she went into the next room and called up her hotel, thinking that
+Richard might have returned, but he had not. She felt that she could
+only wait where she was, until some word came from Leary.</p>
+
+<p>The clerk, as soon as Ruth was attended to, had hastened down to the
+lobby, only to learn that the woman who had gone to Miss Bradley's room
+had not been seen.</p>
+
+<p>It must have been almost an hour before Grace was informed by one of the
+bellboys that someone wished to speak to her on the telephone. She did
+not take the message in Ruth's room, the management having given
+instructions that no calls were to be transmitted there for fear of
+arousing the unconscious girl. She went quickly downstairs in the
+elevator, and repaired to a booth in the lobby. One of the maids had
+been left to watch over Ruth.</p>
+
+<p>The message was from Leary, as Grace had anticipated.</p>
+
+<p>"Is this you, Mrs. Duvall?" the cabman asked.</p>
+
+<p>"Yes. What have you discovered?"</p>
+
+<p>"The lady got into her cab a little while after you left me, and drove
+away. I followed, as you told me to do. She drove to an apartment on
+96th Street, left her taxicab, and entered. The cab drove away. I'm
+waiting across the street, in a drug store. The apartment is on the
+corner, 96th Street and Columbus Avenue. Shall I stay here?"</p>
+
+<p>"Yes. Wait until I come." Grace left the booth, and hunting up the
+clerk, told him that she was obliged to go out at once.</p>
+
+<p>"Mrs. Morton should be back very soon," she said. "One of the maids is
+sitting with Miss Ruth. Hadn't you better stay with her, as well?"</p>
+
+<p>The clerk nodded, then saw the doctor coming through the lobby.</p>
+
+<p>"Here's Dr. Benson," he said. "I'll send him up. The young lady will be
+quite safe, until her mother comes."</p>
+
+<p>Grace bowed to the doctor, then hurried out of the hotel, and jumping
+into a taxi, ordered the driver to take her to Columbus Avenue and 96th
+Street. She felt overjoyed, to know that the woman Duvall had been
+seeking had at last been run to earth. She should, Grace determined, not
+escape a second time.</p>
+
+<p>At 96th Street, she found Leary, impatiently waiting for her in the
+doorway of the corner drug store from which he had telephoned. He saw
+her as soon as she left the cab and, tipping his cap, came forward and
+joined her.</p>
+
+<p>"She's in there yet, Miss," he whispered, jerking his thumb toward the
+building on the opposite corner.</p>
+
+<p>Grace glanced in the direction indicated. A somewhat dingy-looking
+apartment house stood upon the corner; its lower floor occupied by a
+florist's shop. The entrance was on 96th Street. Leaving Leary on the
+opposite corner, she crossed the street and entered the vestibule of the
+building.</p>
+
+<p>The mail boxes on either side contained five names each, indicating that
+there were ten apartments in the building. Grace looked over the
+addresses in them carefully, but none of them meant anything to her.
+None was at all familiar. The name on the torn card had been Ford, but
+there was no such name among those before her. How was she to tell to
+which apartment the woman had gone? The situation presented an
+interesting problem.</p>
+
+<p>Making a list of the names upon a visiting card, Grace determined to try
+them each in turn. She had observed that the building contained no
+elevator. She rang one of the bells, and almost at once the clicking of
+the catch told her that the front door was unlocked. She turned the knob
+and entered.</p>
+
+<p>The occupants of the two ground floor apartments were named Weinberg and
+Scully, respectively. Grace tried both doors in succession, asking for
+Mrs. Weinberg at the one, and for Mrs. Scully at the other. In each case
+the woman who appeared bore no resemblance to the one she sought, and
+she was obliged to pretend that she had made a mistake. The doors were
+at once closed in her face.</p>
+
+<p>It was not until she reached the fourth floor that success rewarded her
+efforts. The left-hand apartment on this floor had as its tenant a Miss
+Norman. To Grace's delight, she had scarcely rung the bell, when the
+woman she had been following appeared, wearing a flowered <a name="kimono" id="kimono"></a>kimono.</p>
+
+<p>She looked at Grace keenly, suspiciously, but with no sign of
+recognition. Whether she did not know her, or merely pretended not to do
+so, Grace was unable to say. After all, it made little difference.
+Having now located the woman, it was only necessary to get away, upon
+some pretense or other, and telephone to Richard. She felt highly
+elated.</p>
+
+<p>"What do you want?" the woman asked, quickly.</p>
+
+<p>"Are you Miss Norman?"</p>
+
+<p>"I am."</p>
+
+<p>"Miss Norman, I have come to try to interest you in the work we are
+doing on behalf of the suffering people of Poland. The war, as you
+know&mdash;&mdash;" Grace reeled off this appeal, feeling quite certain that the
+woman would reject it at once, and thus leave her free to go. But as it
+turned out, Miss Norman did nothing of the sort.</p>
+
+<p>"I am always interested in worthy charities," she remarked, with a
+peculiar smile. "Won't you come in?" She held wide the door.</p>
+
+<p>Grace found herself in a quandary. Was this a plot to get her inside the
+apartment, or was the woman in earnest? It seemed unlikely, and yet,
+Grace feared the danger, now that she had gone so far, of arousing the
+other's suspicions by a refusal.</p>
+
+<p>"I&mdash;I will come in for a moment," she said, and an instant later found
+herself in a small, rather poorly furnished living room. The woman
+closed the door, and followed her. Grace braced herself for a possible
+attack, but none came.</p>
+
+<p>"Sit down," her hostess said, indicating a chair.</p>
+
+<p>"No. It is too late for that. If you care to subscribe anything&mdash;&mdash;"</p>
+
+<p>"But you must tell me more about your work."</p>
+
+<p>"It is very simple. The money is expended by the Polish Relief
+Committee, to relieve the starving and destitute sufferers in the war
+zone."</p>
+
+<p>"I see. It seems a worthy charity. I will think the matter over. Suppose
+you call again."</p>
+
+<p>Grace began to breathe more freely.</p>
+
+<p>"I will do so, of course," she said, moving toward the door.</p>
+
+<p>The woman preceded her.</p>
+
+<p>"Let me open it," she said. "The catch has a habit of sticking." She
+fumbled with the lock.</p>
+
+<p>Grace was so completely deceived by the woman's actions that she
+momentarily relaxed her guard. As her companion drew the door open,
+Grace bade her good night and started to go. The instant her back was
+turned, she felt a slender but muscular arm slide about her neck, and
+she was instantly dragged backward, unable, on account of the pressure
+upon her throat, to utter a sound.</p>
+
+<p>Her attempt at a cry for help was smothered before it became audible.
+She saw, as in a dream, the woman before her drive the door to with her
+shoulder. Then she was whirled backward and thrown violently upon a low
+couch.</p>
+
+<p>She grasped the arm of her assailant and struggled with all her might,
+but to no purpose. The woman bent over her, her hands at her throat.
+Grace's brain reeled. Everything seemed black before her eyes. She
+gasped, trying in vain to breathe, but the fingers upon her throat were
+momentarily tightening. Then, almost before she realized it, the objects
+in the room swam vaguely before her eyes, and she lost consciousness.</p>
+
+<br />
+
+<h2><a name="PART_IV" id="PART_IV"></a>PART IV</h2>
+<h2><a name="CHAPTER_XVII" id="CHAPTER_XVII"></a>CHAPTER XVII</h2>
+
+
+<p>Duvall, on his arrival with Mrs. Morton at her apartment, lost no time
+in finding out from the clerk just what had happened. The story, pieced
+together, confirmed his worst suspicions.</p>
+
+<p>The woman, after escaping from the house at 162 West 57th Street, had
+gone at once to Ruth's hotel, followed by Grace. Here she had
+interviewed Mrs. Morton, represented herself as Grace Duvall, and
+induced Mrs. Morton to leave the hotel by giving her a fictitious
+message purporting to be from himself.</p>
+
+<p>Returning, later, to the hotel, she had gone to Ruth Morton's room and
+attacked her. The nature of that attack, the effect upon the girl, were
+as yet uncertain. Ruth Morton was still unconscious.</p>
+
+<p>Meanwhile, as he learned from the clerk, Grace had received a telephone
+message and hurriedly left the hotel. The clerk did not know from whom
+the message had come.</p>
+
+<p>Duvall went to Ruth Morton's bedroom, and called the doctor aside.</p>
+
+<p>"What is the exact nature of Miss Morton's injuries?" he asked.</p>
+
+<p>"She has no injuries, at least in the sense I think you mean. She is
+suffering solely from the effects of shock."</p>
+
+<p>"What sort of shock?"</p>
+
+<p>"I do not know, of course. Fright, of some sort, terrible fright, I
+should say. I am informed that some woman, some enemy of hers, came to
+this room, and was alone with her."</p>
+
+<p>"There is no evidence of any violence?"</p>
+
+<p>"None whatever. But the effects of shock are often worse than those of
+actual physical violence. They have frequently been known to cause
+death."</p>
+
+<p>"You do not, I hope, anticipate anything of the sort in this case."</p>
+
+<p>"I cannot say." The doctor shook his head. "She must have been very
+weak. Her system is responding very slowly."</p>
+
+<p>Duvall glanced over to where Mrs. Morton hung in agonized silence over
+her daughter's bed, then went out into the sitting room. It seemed to
+him well nigh incredible that the woman responsible for all this had
+been able to move about, to elude pursuit, to carry out her threats,
+apparently without the least hesitation or fear of capture. His
+professional pride had received severe shock.</p>
+
+<p>Two means of finding the woman, he felt, were still open to him. One was
+to trace her through Miss Ford. He did not doubt that, after what he had
+said to the latter, she would make an immediate attempt to warn her
+confederate of the danger that threatened her. Of course, the Ford girl
+might communicate with her companion by telephone, in which event the
+tracing would be difficult, if not impossible.</p>
+
+<p>The other hope of tracing the woman lay in Grace. Why had she left the
+hotel so suddenly? He did not of course know the source of the telephone
+message, and could only surmise that Grace had in some way been able to
+pick up the woman's trail.</p>
+
+<p>Leaving Mrs. Morton with a few words of encouragement, he made his way
+to his hotel. There was no news there of Grace, however, and he realized
+that it was now too late to accomplish anything by returning to the
+house on 57th Street. Marcia Ford would either have long since retired,
+or else would have left the house to communicate with the woman who had
+been with her earlier in the evening. Considerably upset by the events
+of the past three hours, Duvall retired to his room, and sat down to
+think the whole matter over.</p>
+
+<p>Proceeding on the assumption that the woman in question, and Miss Ford
+were acting together, all the events at the studio, the fake telegram,
+the missing photograph, became intelligible. But the delivery of the
+letters in Ruth Morton's apartment, the strange attack upon him while
+searching the Ford girl's room, were by no means so clear. Once more his
+thoughts reverted to the attic room, the roof of the adjoining house,
+the problem of effecting an entrance to the Morton apartment through
+either of the two windows.</p>
+
+<p>And then, as he revolved the problem in his mind, a sudden light came to
+him. He sprang from his chair with an exclamation of satisfaction. A
+solution of the whole matter flashed through his brain, a solution at
+once so simple, and so ingenious, that he wondered he had not thought of
+it before.</p>
+
+<p>He glanced at his watch. It was midnight. Too late, perhaps, to test the
+accuracy of his deductions. Nor did he feel at all easy in his mind
+regarding Grace. Something must have happened to her, he feared, to keep
+her out so late, with no word to him concerning her movements. He went
+to the 'phone, and calling up the office, inquired whether anything had
+been heard of Mrs. Duvall.</p>
+
+<p>"No," the night clerk informed him. Mrs. Duvall had not been heard from,
+nor had she sent any message. But a note had just been left for her. He
+would send it up.</p>
+
+<p>Duvall awaited the arrival of the note with the utmost impatience. A
+message for Grace. From whom? What could it mean? A few moments later
+one of the bellboys thrust into his hand a letter, written on the note
+paper of the hotel.</p>
+
+<p>He regarded the scrawling and ill-written superscription with
+apprehension, then tore open the envelope and proceeded to read the
+contents of the note.</p>
+
+<p>"Dear Madam," it said. "I waited till nearly midnight. When you did not
+come, I thought you must have gone out some other way, so came back to
+the hotel. I hope I did right. Respectfully yours, Martin Leary." Duvall
+stared at the words before him with a look of alarm. Who was Martin
+Leary? And where had he waited for Grace until nearly midnight? And,
+above all, why had she not returned? Had some accident, some danger
+befallen her? The circumstances made it seem highly probable.</p>
+
+<p>There was but one thing to do&mdash;to question the night clerk, and find
+out, if possible, who Leary was. He rushed to the elevator and made his
+way to the lobby with all speed.</p>
+
+<p>"Who left this note for Mrs. Duvall?" he asked of the clerk.</p>
+
+<p>"Why,"&mdash;the man paused for a moment&mdash;"one of the cabmen, I believe."</p>
+
+<p>"Is his name Leary&mdash;Martin Leary?"</p>
+
+<p>"Yes. It was Leary, come to think of it. Nothing wrong, I hope, Mr.
+Duvall."</p>
+
+<p>"I'll know later. Where is Leary now?"</p>
+
+<p>"Couldn't say, sir. You might ask the cab starter?"</p>
+
+<p>Almost before the clerk had finished speaking, Duvall had darted across
+the lobby and made his way to the taxicab office at the door.</p>
+
+<p>"Taxi, sir?" the man asked. "Do you know a chauffeur named Martin
+Leary?" exclaimed Duvall.</p>
+
+<p>"Yes, sir. One of our regular men, sir."</p>
+
+<p>"Where is he?"</p>
+
+<p>The starter glanced along the row of taxicabs.</p>
+
+<p>"He's turned in for the night, sir. Left for the garage some time ago.
+He's been on duty since early this morning."</p>
+
+<p>"Where is the garage?"</p>
+
+<p>"On Lexington Avenue, sir, near 30th Street."</p>
+
+<p>"Does Leary sleep there?"</p>
+
+<p>"No, sir. I don't think so, sir. They would know at the garage, I
+guess."</p>
+
+<p>"Very <a name="well" id="well"></a>well. Get me a cab. I want to be taken there at once."</p>
+
+<p>The starter called to one of the drivers, and a few moments later Duvall
+was being driven at a rapid rate toward the garage.</p>
+
+<p>His inquiries, on his arrival there, developed the fact that Leary had
+left for his home, on Second Avenue, some little time before. Duvall
+secured the address, and once more set out.</p>
+
+<p>He felt greatly alarmed at Grace's failure to put in an appearance.
+Something must have happened to her. Clearly the case was going very
+much against him&mdash;the woman's second escape&mdash;the attack on Ruth
+Morton&mdash;now the disappearance of Grace. He felt that the time had come
+for action of a quick and drastic nature.</p>
+
+<p>Leary lived with his wife and two children on the third floor of a
+Second Avenue tenement. Hastily climbing the two flights of dark steps,
+Duvall rapped on the door. He was <a name="overjoyed" id="overjoyed"></a>overjoyed when it was opened by a man
+whom he judged to be the chauffeur himself.</p>
+
+<p>"Are you Martin Leary?" he asked.</p>
+
+<p>"Yes, sir." The man wiped his mouth with the back of his hand, choking
+down a bit of cold supper he had been eating, before turning in.</p>
+
+<p>"I am Richard Duvall. You drove my wife uptown, somewhere, did you not?"</p>
+
+<p>"Yes, sir. To Columbus Avenue and Ninety-sixth Street, sir. Won't you
+come in?"</p>
+
+<p>"No. There isn't time. I want you to put on your coat and come along
+with me. Mrs. Duvall has not returned, and I am afraid something has
+happened to her."</p>
+
+<p>The man turned and called to someone inside the flat.</p>
+
+<p>"Gimme my hat and coat, Kitty," he said, then turned again to Duvall. "I
+suppose I should have waited, sir, but after two hours went by, I made
+up my mind that Mrs. Duvall didn't need me any longer."</p>
+
+<p>"What is the building at Columbus Avenue and 96th Street?" Duvall asked,
+as the man, pulling on the coat his wife handed him, strode down the
+hall.</p>
+
+<p>"An apartment building, sir."</p>
+
+<p>"And why did Mrs. Duvall go there?"</p>
+
+<p>"Well, sir, we was following a woman, sir. She went to a hotel on
+Seventy-second Street, and Mrs. Duvall told me to watch for her. I did,
+and tracked her to the place at 96th Street. Then I telephoned to Mrs.
+Duvall to come, and she did."</p>
+
+<p>"What time was that?"</p>
+
+<p>"About half-past nine, sir."</p>
+
+<p>"All right. Go on."</p>
+
+<p>"Mrs. Duvall came, sir, in another taxi. I pointed out the place where
+the woman went in, and Mrs. Duvall went in after her. She didn't say I
+was to wait, but I guess she expected me to, because she had sent the
+other cab away. I waited over two hours, and then, when she didn't come
+out, I supposed she had returned to her hotel, so I came back, too. She
+wasn't there, though. That's why I left the note."</p>
+
+<p>"How did you think Mrs. Duvall could have gotten back to her hotel, if
+you were watching the door of the apartment house all the time?"</p>
+
+<p>"I wasn't watching it all the time, sir. I went into the drug store
+once, sir, and got a cigar. And then, later on, I went to a saloon a
+piece down the Avenue and got a glass of beer. Mrs. Duvall didn't say I
+was to watch the place, sir. I thought when she got through what she had
+to do, she would come back to the cab. But she didn't. Do you think I
+ought to have waited, sir?" The man seemed greatly distressed.</p>
+
+<p>"No use talking about that now," Duvall remarked, shortly. "I want to
+drive there at once. Get on the box, with the chauffeur, and point out
+the place to him."</p>
+
+<p>"Yes, sir." A moment later they had started on their way uptown.</p>
+
+<p>Knowing as he did Grace's impetuous nature, Duvall could only conclude
+that her pursuit of the woman had led her into some trap. What danger
+she might at this moment be facing, he could only surmise. The apartment
+building, when they finally reached it, presented a grim and forbidding
+appearance. Not a light broke the darkness of any of its windows. The
+drug store on the opposite corner, too, was closed for the night. The
+whole locality was dark and silent.</p>
+
+<p>"There's the place, sir," Leary exclaimed, as they drew up to the
+corner.</p>
+
+<p>"Tell the driver to stop a few doors up the block&mdash;not right in front of
+the building."</p>
+
+<p>Leary nodded. Presently the cab stopped, and he and Duvall got out.</p>
+
+<p>The detective's first move was to ascertain whether or not the building
+had any rear exit, by which Grace might have left, without being seen by
+Leary. He walked down the avenue to its rear wall, only to find that it
+abutted against the wall of the next building. There was no rear
+entrance.</p>
+
+<p>If, then, Grace had not left the place during the past hour, she must
+still be in one of the ten flats that formed the five floors of the
+building. But which one? That, apparently, was the problem he had to
+solve.</p>
+
+<p>It would be useless, he felt, to inquire at the doors of the various
+apartments at this hour of the morning. Admission, at least on the part
+of those he sought, would certainly be refused. Yet he felt that there
+was no time to be lost.</p>
+
+<p>Stationing Leary before the front door, with instructions to keep a
+careful watch, Duvall went into the vestibule, and by means of his
+pocket light, inspected the names of the occupants of the building, as
+Grace had done a short time before. The hallway inside was dark, with
+the exception of a dim light at the foot of the stairs. Apparently the
+place boasted no elevator or hall-boy service.</p>
+
+<p>The ten names on the boxes in the vestibule meant nothing to him. How
+was it possible to determine which one was that of the woman he sought?
+Weinberg&mdash;Scully&mdash;Martin&mdash;Stone&mdash;he ran down the list, trying to find
+some distinguishing mark, some clue, that would guide him.</p>
+
+<p>Suddenly he paused, allowing the light from his torch to rest upon the
+card bearing the name of one of the tenants on the fourth floor.</p>
+
+<p>This card had attracted his attention, because it was different from any
+of the others in the two racks. They were either engraved or printed
+visiting cards, stuck inside the brass frames provided for them, or the
+names were written or printed by hand upon blank cards. But this card,
+bearing simply the inscription E. W. Norman, was neither engraved nor
+printed, nor written by hand. On the contrary, it was <i>typewritten</i>.</p>
+
+<p>This in itself at once attracted Duvall's attention, owing to the fact
+that the various letters received by Ruth Morton had also all been
+typewritten. If the name, Norman, was an assumed one, as Duvall
+concluded it to be, what more natural than that it should be
+<i>typewritten</i> on a blank card, especially when a regular printed or
+engraved card was not available; when to have it written in long hand
+would have been a disclosure of identity, and when, above all, the woman
+in question possessed, and knew how to operate, a typewriter.</p>
+
+<p>There was more than this, however, about the name on the card, to
+convince Duvall that E. W. Norman was the woman he sought. He recalled
+with distinctness the two salient features of the typewriting in all the
+letters sent to Miss Morton, the misplaced "a," and the broken lower
+right-hand corner of the capital "W." He looked closely at the two
+letters in the name before him. The "a" was misplaced, the "W" minus its
+lower right-hand corner. The evidence seemed to be complete.</p>
+
+<p>The next thing to be considered was, how could he first obtain entrance
+to the apartment building, and, subsequently, to the flat of the woman
+posing as E. W. Norman? Were he to ring the latter's bell, he felt quite
+sure she would not respond by unfastening the front door, but she would
+on the contrary be warned, and even if unable to escape, might destroy
+the evidence he hoped to find in her possession.</p>
+
+<p>On the other hand, to ring the bell of one of the other apartments might
+result in the unlatching of the front door, but might involve
+explanations, difficult, in the circumstances, to make. There was no
+help for it, however. Duvall pressed the bell belonging to the family
+named Scully.</p>
+
+<p>It was a long time before there was any response. Duvall had almost
+begun to despair of getting one, when he heard the clicking of the
+electric latch, and found that he could turn the knob and enter the
+hallway.</p>
+
+<p>He had barely done so, when at big, burly-looking man, who might have
+been a bartender, or a head waiter, appeared in the door of one of the
+ground floor apartments, clad only in his night clothes.</p>
+
+<p>"Well&mdash;whatcha want?" he growled.</p>
+
+<p>Duvall stepped up to him quickly, and spoke in a pleasant voice.</p>
+
+<p>"I'm mighty sorry," he said. "I rang your bell by mistake. Pardon me."</p>
+
+<p>The man glared at him, suspicion blazing from his eyes.</p>
+
+<p>"That's an old one," he retorted. "How do I know you ain't a burglar?"</p>
+
+<p>"Do I look like one?" Duvall asked.</p>
+
+<p>The man ignored this question.</p>
+
+<p>"Rang my bell by mistake, did you? Who do you want to see?"</p>
+
+<p>"I have some business with a lady on the fourth floor." He went closer
+to the man, and lowered his voice. "I'm a detective, my friend," he
+whispered confidentially. "I'm here on a very important case."</p>
+
+<p>The big man's eyes widened.</p>
+
+<p>"Th' hell you are!" he exclaimed. "Central office?"</p>
+
+<p>"No. Private."</p>
+
+<p>"H&mdash;m." The man nodded slowly. "All right. But I guess I'll keep my eye
+on you, just the same." He leaned against the door jamb and watched
+Duvall as he ascended the stairs.</p>
+
+<p>The detective reached the fourth floor at top speed. He was panting,
+when he arrived opposite the door of the apartment he sought. Once
+there, he paused for a moment, listening intently. Not a sound came from
+the interior of the flat.</p>
+
+<p>The problem of obtaining access to the place now confronted him. The
+door was of oak of stout construction. He doubted his ability to break
+it <a name="in" id="in"></a>in, nor did he wish to attempt to do so, if it could be avoided.
+Breaking into private apartments, without a warrant, was a serious
+matter. There was a chance that this might not be the right place, after
+all. He hesitated. Yet Grace might be within, in danger, perhaps, of her
+life. It was imperative that he should find out the truth at once.</p>
+
+<p>Stepping up to the door, he knocked sharply upon it, then waited for a
+reply. He scarcely expected one, but felt that he should at least give
+the persons within a chance.</p>
+
+<p>A long silence ensued. Duvall was about to rap again, when, to his
+amazement, the door slowly and noiselessly swung inward, as though
+impelled by some unseen hand.</p>
+
+<p>The room beyond was shrouded in darkness. Duvall could see no one.
+Whoever had opened the door must now be concealed behind it. No one
+either greeted or challenged him. The door swung three-quarters open,
+and stood still. Not a sound was to be heard. The room was as silent as
+a tomb.</p>
+
+<p>Duvall stood on the threshold for a few seconds, listening intently. He
+was greatly astonished by what had occurred. Why had the door been so
+silently opened? Was someone waiting within, ready to attack him the
+moment he made a step forward?</p>
+
+<p>Whether this was the case or not, nothing, he reflected, was to be
+gained by remaining where he was. Drawing an automatic pistol from his
+pocket, he held it in readiness in his right hand, then, raising his
+left arm, he flung his entire weight against the partly opened door.</p>
+
+<p>The door yielded to his attack. Then there came a dull thud, as though
+some heavy body had fallen to the floor, and immediately after the
+hallway resounded with a series of unearthly screams. Duvall still moved
+forward. Then, to his utter surprise, there appeared in the darkness a
+grotesque figure, which immediately hurled itself upon him and began to
+clutch frantically at his throat.</p>
+
+<br />
+
+<h2><a name="CHAPTER_XVIII" id="CHAPTER_XVIII"></a>CHAPTER XVIII</h2>
+
+
+<p>It would be difficult to describe the feelings of Grace Duvall when,
+after having traced the mysterious woman who had attacked Ruth Morton,
+to the flat at Columbus Avenue and Ninety-sixth Street, she had
+foolishly entered the place, and allowed herself to be attacked.</p>
+
+<p>The woman's onslaught had been so sudden, so unexpected, that Grace was
+entirely unable to offer any defense.</p>
+
+<p>Her cries for help had been smothered at once and with the woman's thin
+but muscular fingers clutching at her throat, she found herself forced
+violently back upon a low couch that stood immediately behind her.</p>
+
+<p>For a few moments she struggled violently, striving with both her hands
+to break her assailant's hold upon her, but her efforts were in vain.
+Slowly she realized that she was being choked into unconsciousness. The
+objects in the room, the woman's set face, whirled dimly before her
+eyes, and then everything became blank.</p>
+
+<p>When she once more recovered consciousness, she found herself still
+lying upon the couch. Her throat ached fearfully, and there was a dull
+roaring in her head.</p>
+
+<p>She opened her eyes and looked about. The room was quite dark. Only a
+very faint glow came through the windows at its further end&mdash;the dim
+reflection of the lights in the street. So far as she could determine,
+she was alone.</p>
+
+<p>She tried to move her arms, her feet, but found them bound fast. A
+moment later she realized that a piece of cloth of some sort, tightly
+rolled, had been forced into her mouth. She could not utter a sound.</p>
+
+<p>There was no one in the room, but from the one which adjoined it in the
+rear came the murmur of voices.</p>
+
+<p>By twisting her head about she was able to learn that the door
+connecting the two was ajar, and through the narrow opening came a thin
+ribbon of light.</p>
+
+<p>As her senses became clearer, she realized that two persons were in the
+room beyond her, and from the sounds they made, the words which from
+time to time came to her ears, it appeared that they were engaged in the
+operation of packing.</p>
+
+<p>At first the words that filtered through the partly open doorway were
+mere fragments of conversation&mdash;words spoken here and there in a
+slightly higher key, and therefore distinguishable to her. She made out
+that her captors supposed her to be still unconscious&mdash;that they were
+preparing to leave the place.</p>
+
+<p>"There's no hurry," she presently heard one of the women say, in a
+somewhat louder voice. "If she had had friends waiting outside for her,
+they would have come to her rescue long ago. I'm sure nobody knows where
+she is."</p>
+
+<p>"And her husband had gone, long before I left the house. I was watching,
+and he first went to a saloon on the corner, and then drove off in a
+taxicab. So I couldn't have been followed here."</p>
+
+<p>"No. But I think we ought to get away as soon as possible. When does
+that train go?"</p>
+
+<p>"Not until half past five."</p>
+
+<p>"We'll have to wait in the station, then."</p>
+
+<p>"Why not here?"</p>
+
+<p>"Because that woman's husband, when she fails to return to-night, is
+certain to look for her. She probably came in a cab, and he might trace
+her that way. My advice is to leave here as soon as possible. Have you
+finished packing that suit case?"</p>
+
+<p>"No, not quite. What do you propose to do with Jack?"</p>
+
+<p>"I was going to take him with me."</p>
+
+<p>"I don't see how you can do that."</p>
+
+<p>"Why not?"</p>
+
+<p>"Because, if any attempt is made to follow us, he would be a certain
+means of identification."</p>
+
+<p>There was silence for a time. Grace heard the sounds of drawers being
+opened and shut, as the two women hurried through their task. Who was
+Jack, she wondered? There had been no sounds to indicate the presence of
+a third person in the next room.</p>
+
+<p>Presently she heard the voices again.</p>
+
+<p>"I think the whole affair has been a mistake, anyway," one of them said
+petulantly. "I don't see what you have gained by it."</p>
+
+<p>"I've gotten my revenge on that baby-faced Morton girl. The stuck-up
+thing. I'll bet she won't act again in a hurry. What right has she to be
+getting a thousand a week, when they wouldn't give me a chance at any
+<a name="price" id="price"></a>price? I may not be as good-looking as she is, but I'm a better actress.
+I hate her. I believe she told the director I wouldn't do&mdash;that's why I
+didn't get the job. And after running down to the studio every day for
+three weeks, too. I hate her, I tell you. I hope she's never able to act
+again." The woman spoke with an intensity, a violence that made Grace
+shudder.</p>
+
+<p>"How do you ever suppose they came to connect <i>me</i> with the matter?" the
+other woman said after a time. "They didn't know my address, at the
+studio. And even if they had, I have never been seen with you. I don't
+see why they ever suspected me."</p>
+
+<p>"I don't know. That man Duvall is pretty shrewd, though. I <i>did</i> manage
+to get away from him, the other night. I'd like to have seen his face,
+when he got back to the cab and found me gone."</p>
+
+<p>"His wife followed you here, from the hotel, I suppose. You took an
+awful chance."</p>
+
+<p>"I don't understand how she traced me. I knew she was following me, and
+when she saw me go up in the elevator, at the hotel, I expected her to
+come, too. I was afraid they might prevent me from coming down, while
+they were coming up, so I walked down. I watched, from the stairs, and
+saw her and the clerk get out of the elevator on the floor where that
+girl's apartment was. Then I came down the stairs and went out the side
+entrance. I knew she was upstairs, when I left, and I don't see how she
+traced me."</p>
+
+<p>"Perhaps she had her taxi driver do it."</p>
+
+<p>"That's just about it. And if he did, like as not he's waiting for her
+yet."</p>
+
+<p>The other woman laughed.</p>
+
+<p>"Nice wait he'll have," she said.</p>
+
+<p>"That's all very well, but won't he see us going out?"</p>
+
+<p>"Suppose he does. Anyway, it's dark, and we'll wear veils. And we won't
+go out together. But I don't think he'll wait so long."</p>
+
+<p>"If he doesn't, he'll go back to the hotel and report, and then the
+woman's husband will be up here in no time. I think we'd better get out
+now. You'll have to leave the trunk. There's nothing much in it."</p>
+
+<p>Again there was a long silence. Then Grace heard the door open, and the
+two women came into the room, carrying their suitcases. She closed her
+eyes and pretended to be still unconscious. One of the women paused
+beside her.</p>
+
+<p>"If they don't find out where she is," she whispered to her companion,
+"she's likely to stay here and starve to death."</p>
+
+<p>"I shouldn't be sorry," the other snarled. "But if you feel badly about
+it, it's easy enough to telephone to-morrow and tell the janitor to let
+her out. No chance of a cab, I guess."</p>
+
+<p>"No. Not at this hour. We'll take the car down to Forty-second Street,
+and cross over. Are you ready?"</p>
+
+<p>"Yes. I'd better put out the light, though."</p>
+
+<p>"All right." The first woman moved to the door, while the second
+returned to the bedroom and snapped off the light. A moment later Grace
+saw her ghostly figure pass the couch, and then the snapping of the door
+catch told her that she was alone.</p>
+
+<p>The thought was anything but a pleasant one. If Richard did not happen
+to remember Leary&mdash;she knew she had mentioned him in connection with the
+address on the torn card he had given her&mdash;it was by no means impossible
+that she might lie where she was, helpless, for days. And in that event,
+starvation, or what was worse, thirst, might very readily serve to
+fulfill the woman's predictions. She shivered at the thought of spending
+hours, days, in this place alone.</p>
+
+<p>But was she alone? Until now, she had supposed so, in spite of the
+woman's remarks about "Jack," for she had heard not the slightest sound.
+Presently she became aware of a slow, regular scraping sound, that
+seemed to come from one of the rear rooms. It suggested something alive,
+something moving about with stealthy footsteps. Then, all of a sudden,
+there came a loud crash.</p>
+
+<p>Grace gave an involuntary cry, or what would have been a cry, had she
+not been so effectually gagged. The knowledge that she lay helpless,
+unable to protect herself from attack, frightened her. She turned her
+head, straining her eyes into the semi-darkness. Something, some figure,
+was moving toward her from the bedroom, gliding along with swaying,
+noiseless steps. What it was, she could not determine; from its
+appearance against the darkness of the doorway it looked like a crawling
+figure in black.</p>
+
+<p>Presently she heard the sound of breathing, and with it a mumbling
+noise, as though the apparition were talking to itself. Two eyes seemed
+to gleam through the darkness. There was a hissing yet guttural sound,
+human in quality, yet horrible to her ears.</p>
+
+<p>And then, without warning, the figure sprang toward her, and flung its
+arms about her neck.</p>
+
+<p>With a gasp of fear, Grace turned and buried her face in the pillows.
+Fingers seemed clutching at her hair. An arm, wearing a silken sleeve,
+brushed her cheek, lay across her throat. A low voice muttered
+unintelligibly in her ear, filling her with horror. She felt her senses
+reeling. She thought herself about to faint.</p>
+
+<p>Then, in a moment, the creature was gone, and she heard it moving
+noisily about the further end of the room.</p>
+
+<p>From time to time there came a crash, as though in the darkness it had
+upset something. Then would follow long, uncanny periods of stillness,
+broken only by the horrible muttering. She lay with her head buried in
+the pillows, wondering at what instant the figure would again appear at
+her side.</p>
+
+<p>For a long time she remained thus, straining her ears to keep track of
+the creature's movements. And as the moments passed, she began to take
+courage, to hope that since no harm had as yet been offered her, the
+<i>thing</i> in the room, whatever it was, might not come near her again.</p>
+
+<p>It appeared to have crept to the door, and from it came a low, quite
+human whimpering, as though it were in great grief. Perhaps, Grace
+thought, this was caused by the absence of the two women. She lay quite
+still, trying vainly to free her hands from their encircling bands,
+praying silently that Richard would come to her assistance. Her nerves
+were badly shaken. She contemplated hours, even days of such a situation
+with terror. At least, however, the coming of the dawn would bring one
+relief. She would be able to see what this uncanny thing was that shared
+her captivity.</p>
+
+<p>Suddenly she became aware that some one was ascending the stairs in the
+hall outside. Could it be Richard coming to her assistance? She strained
+her ears, fearing that it might be only one of the tenants of the
+apartment above, returning home at a late hour.</p>
+
+<p>The creature at the door had apparently also heard the approaching
+sound, for its whimperings ceased. Grace could tell by its movements
+that it had risen. There was a faint sound of fingers sliding over the
+polished surface of the door. The steps outside came to a halt.</p>
+
+<p>With all her force Grace tried to cry out, but the gag prevented her
+from uttering a sound. Then there came a sharp knocking at the door.</p>
+
+<p>The figure before it seemed to be fumbling noiselessly with the catch.
+In a moment Grace felt, rather than saw, that the door had been opened.
+Another interval of silence came, and then the person outside flung
+himself heavily forward.</p>
+
+<p>The silence of the room was broken by a fall, a succession of unearthly
+screams. Grace saw a dark body go hurtling through the air, and then
+came the sharp, vicious crack of a pistol. The next thing she saw was
+her husband, bending over her, flashing an electric torch in her face.
+With frightened eyes she looked up at him and tried to smile.</p>
+
+<br />
+
+<h2><a name="CHAPTER_XIX" id="CHAPTER_XIX"></a>CHAPTER XIX</h2>
+
+
+<p>The first thing that Duvall did, after releasing Grace from her bonds,
+was to take her in his arms and kiss her. Then he found the electric
+switch upon the wall and turned on the lights.</p>
+
+<p>"What&mdash;what was it?" Grace asked, staring before her in horror.</p>
+
+<p>"What was what?" he questioned.</p>
+
+<p>"That&mdash;that thing that was locked in here with me."</p>
+
+<p>"Poor creature. A monkey. I'm sorry I had to shoot it." He pointed to a
+crumpled figure on the floor dressed in a gay costume of red silk.</p>
+
+<p>"But&mdash;what was a monkey doing here?"</p>
+
+<p>"I'll explain all that later. Where is the woman?" He glanced toward the
+silent bedroom.</p>
+
+<p>"They have gone?"</p>
+
+<p>"They?"</p>
+
+<p>"Yes. There were two."</p>
+
+<p>"Ah! The Ford girl. I might have known. Where did they go?"</p>
+
+<p>"I&mdash;I don't know. To the station, I think. They said something about
+waiting there for a train."</p>
+
+<p>"What station?"</p>
+
+<p>"They didn't say. But they spoke of taking a car to 42nd Street, and
+crossing over. It must have been the Grand Central."</p>
+
+<p>"Or possibly the West Shore. We'll have to try both. Are you able to
+leave now?"</p>
+
+<p>Grace straightened out her stiffened limbs.</p>
+
+<p>"Yes&mdash;I&mdash;guess so."</p>
+
+<p>"Then come along."</p>
+
+<p>As they started to leave the place, two men confronted them at the door.
+One was Mr. Scully, he of the ground-floor apartment, the other a short,
+thickset man, who at once announced himself as the janitor of the
+building.</p>
+
+<p>"What's going on up here?" he questioned. "I heard a shot."</p>
+
+<p>Duvall pointed to the crumpled heap on the floor.</p>
+
+<p>"I had to shoot it, though I'm sorry now that I did. It attacked me in
+the dark. I couldn't afford to take any chances. My wife was locked in
+here, and was, so far as I knew, in grave danger."</p>
+
+<p>"Your wife?" The man glanced at Grace.</p>
+
+<p>"Yes."</p>
+
+<p>"But&mdash;where is Miss Norman? And how did that monkey get in here?"</p>
+
+<p>"Miss Norman left here some time ago. Another woman, by the name of
+Ford, was with her. She brought the monkey."</p>
+
+<p>"What for?"</p>
+
+<p>"I imagine she didn't want to leave it at her rooms. She did not expect
+to return there."</p>
+
+<p>"And Miss Norman's gone, you say?"</p>
+
+<p>"Yes."</p>
+
+<p>"Where to?"</p>
+
+<p>"I don't just know, but I mean to find out at once. She has been guilty
+of a grave offense, on account of which I have been trying to lay my
+hands on her for several days. My wife tells me she took most of her
+belongings with her in her flight."</p>
+
+<p>"Flight, eh?" the man growled. "And she owes us a month's rent. I hope
+you find her."</p>
+
+<p>"I think I shall. Meanwhile, suppose you wait here in the apartment, in
+case, for any reason, she comes back. If I find her I shall bring her
+here at once, and unless the place is open I couldn't very well get in."</p>
+
+<p>"All right." The man glanced about the disordered room. "That damned
+monkey has smashed a lamp and a lot of ornaments that somebody's got to
+pay for. Miss Norman rented this place furnished."</p>
+
+<p>Duvall made no reply, but nodding to Grace, led the way to the hall.</p>
+
+<p>"I'll be back soon, whether I find the woman or not," he said. "I've got
+some investigations to make here."</p>
+
+<p>Accompanied by Grace, he descended to the cab. Leary seemed overjoyed to
+realize that Grace was safe, and began a long apology for his
+carelessness in not waiting for her earlier in the evening, but Duvall
+cut him short.</p>
+
+<p>"Good thing you didn't," he said. "By coming back to the hotel and
+leaving the note for Mrs. Duvall, you made it possible for me to find
+her, and if I hadn't"&mdash;he paused and looked at Grace with a troubled
+face&mdash;"there's no knowing what might have happened. Tell the chauffeur
+to drive to the Grand Central Station."</p>
+
+<p>It was three o'clock when the cab drew up at the curb. In spite of the
+lateness of the hour, there were a good many persons moving in and out
+of the station. Duvall got out and motioned to Grace and Leary to do the
+same.</p>
+
+<p>"We will all go in by different doors," he explained, "and meet in the
+general waiting-room. If the women are not there, Mrs. Duvall will look
+through the women's room. If you see them, and they make no effort to
+escape, wait for me to join you. If they do try to get away, detain them
+until I come."</p>
+
+<p>It was Duvall himself, however, who first caught sight of the objects of
+their pursuit. They sat, both apparently asleep, on a bench in one
+corner of the main waiting room. The detective was not certain of their
+identity, heavily veiled as they were, until he had gone quite close up
+to them. Then he saw that they were Miss Ford and the woman who had
+escaped from him while in the cab the night before.</p>
+
+<p>He leaned over and tapped the Ford girl on the shoulder.</p>
+
+<p>"Wake up, Miss Ford," he exclaimed.</p>
+
+<p>The girl shivered, then struggled to her feet. Her companion appeared to
+be too dazed to move, although she opened her eyes and stared at him
+with a vague and terrified face.</p>
+
+<p>"Will you come with me quietly," he said, "or shall I call a policeman
+and have you put under arrest for the attack upon my wife?" He addressed
+himself more particularly to the woman who was sitting.</p>
+
+<p>She now rose and made a movement as though to attempt to escape. Duvall
+grasped her by the arm.</p>
+
+<p>"It will be quite useless to attempt it, Miss Norman," he said. "I have
+help close at hand in case it is needed." He glanced toward Grace and
+Leary, who were now approaching. "I do not wish to use any violence, of
+course, but you and your friend are going back to the apartment on
+Ninety-sixth Street with me."</p>
+
+<p>His voice, his manner, made it apparent to the two women that escape was
+hopeless. They seemed suddenly to realize it, to give up further ideas
+of resistance.</p>
+
+<p>"Very well," Miss Norman said, "we will go."</p>
+
+<p>"Good." Duvall turned to Leary. "Take those two suit cases, Leary, and
+get another cab." In silence the little party made its way to the
+street. The two women said nothing on the way back to the apartment, and
+Duvall did not question them. There was time enough for that, he
+reflected, after they reached their destination. Within less than an
+hour from the time of their departure, their entire party was back in
+the woman's apartment.</p>
+
+<p>The janitor was still there on guard, but the body of the dead monkey
+had been removed. Duvall, requesting Leary to remain, closed the door.
+The janitor rose and came toward them.</p>
+
+<p>"Look here, Miss Norman," he began, "who's going to pay for that broken
+lamp and them vases and ornaments?"</p>
+
+<p>The woman regarded him with a stare, but said nothing.</p>
+
+<p>"Never mind about those things now," Duvall said. "They can remain. I
+have some questions of much greater importance to ask these ladies. You
+need not wait. In fact, I should prefer that you did not. The matter is
+a private one." The janitor took his departure, grumbling to himself,
+and Duvall closed and bolted the door. Then he requested the two women
+to be seated. They obeyed without a word.</p>
+
+<p>"Why did you send those threatening messages to Miss Morton?" he
+suddenly asked, addressing himself to Miss Norman.</p>
+
+<p>She faced him defiantly.</p>
+
+<p>"I'll answer no questions," she flung at him. "You can't prove I sent
+anybody any messages."</p>
+
+<p>"Do you deny it, then?"</p>
+
+<p>"Yes!"</p>
+
+<p>Duvall turned to Grace.</p>
+
+<p>"You saw this woman enter Miss Morton's hotel to-night and go up in the
+elevator, did you not?"</p>
+
+<p>"Certainly!"</p>
+
+<p>"Do you deny that?" The detective once more addressed Miss Norman.</p>
+
+<p>"No. What of it? How do you know I went to Miss Morton's room?" Her
+defiance was in no way lessened. Duvall saw that she meant to deny her
+guilt utterly. He turned to Leary.</p>
+
+<p>"This woman came to you, did she not, with a request that you spy on my
+wife's movements, and inform her concerning them?"</p>
+
+<p>The chauffeur nodded.</p>
+
+<p>"Yes, sir. She did."</p>
+
+<p>Again Miss Norman spoke.</p>
+
+<p>"Suppose I did. What then?"</p>
+
+<p>"You will admit, I presume, that you fainted at the theatre the other
+night when the picture of the death's-head seal was thrown on the
+screen, and that later you escaped from the cab in which I had placed
+you?"</p>
+
+<p>"Certainly I will admit it. The hideous thing startled me. As for
+escaping from the cab, I had every reason to do so. You had not only
+attempted to drug me, but after that you tried to steal the contents of
+my purse. You are the one who ought to be arrested, not I."</p>
+
+<p>The woman's attitude began to annoy Duvall, especially as, so far, he
+realized fully that the evidence against her was entirely circumstantial
+and vague. He turned away, and began to search the rooms.</p>
+
+<p>The search, although he conducted it with the utmost minuteness, was
+quite unproductive of results. If the woman possessed a typewriter, she
+had apparently made away with it. The scrap basket contained nothing but
+a few torn bits of paper of no value. There was no stationery on the
+small desk in the living room, no black sealing wax, such as had been
+used to make the seals. Duvall began to realize that the case against
+his prisoner was far from complete. Returning from a fruitless search of
+the bedroom, Duvall's eye fell upon the two suitcases that the women had
+carried in their flight. He bent over to them at once, and proceeded to
+open them, one after the other.</p>
+
+<p>"Search them, please." He nodded to Grace.</p>
+
+<p>The latter did so with the utmost care, but found nothing of an
+incriminating nature. The two women sat in stony silence, showing little
+interest in the proceedings. Duvall went over to them.</p>
+
+<p>"Show me your rings," he said to Miss Norman.</p>
+
+<p>The woman held out her hand.</p>
+
+<p>"Take them off."</p>
+
+<p>She stripped from her finger three rings. One was a gold seal with a
+monogram upon it, another a cheap affair set with pearls, the third a
+twisted gold band. None of the rings contained the mysterious
+death's-head seal, or could in any way have concealed it.</p>
+
+<p>An examination of Miss Ford's stock of jewelry produced no better
+results.</p>
+
+<p>"Let me see the contents of your purse," Duvall said, indicating a
+leather bag the Norman woman carried on her wrist.</p>
+
+<p>She handed the bag over with an almost imperceptible smile. Duvall
+examined it but without result. The seal was not inside. Nor did Miss
+Ford's purse, a silver one, contain anything worthy of his notice. He
+handed the two back.</p>
+
+<p>"Anything else you would like to see?" Miss Norman asked with cutting
+irony.</p>
+
+<p>Duvall walked over to the window and looked out. It was still quite
+dark. The woman's assurance puzzled him. It was quite clear now that
+unless he could find the typewriter, the letter paper, the missing seal,
+and could connect this woman with them, there remained but a single way
+in which she could be connected with the attacks upon Miss Morton, and
+that would be by the direct testimony of the motion-picture actress
+herself, concerning the woman's visit to her room. But suppose the visit
+had been made in disguise. It would have been simple enough to have put
+on a mask on entering the room and subsequently have thrown it away. And
+Miss Morton, frightened as she had been, might be totally unable to
+identify her assailant. She had covered her tracks well. Was she then to
+go free?</p>
+
+<p>The matter of the typewriter Duvall put aside for the moment. The woman
+might readily have a friend who possessed one&mdash;a hotel stenographer,
+perhaps, who had permitted her to make use of her machine. But the seal
+was a matter of more importance. His examination of the several
+impressions had shown him that it was extremely well carved&mdash;a decidedly
+expensive piece of work. Of course, the woman might have thrown it away
+during her flight, but it seemed unlikely. What had she done with it?
+The question was one to which he felt he must find an answer.</p>
+
+<p>Again, with Grace's assistance, he examined the articles in the women's
+suitcases, testing the backs of hairbrushes, the contents of powder
+boxes, the interior of a cake of soap, a bottle of shoe blackening, but
+the search was as unproductive of results as before. Duvall was forced,
+against his will, to the conclusion that the woman had made away with
+the seal, rather than run the risk of its being found upon her person.</p>
+
+<p><a name="isthere" id="isthere"></a>"Is there anything more you want of us?" Miss Norman asked, when he had
+again closed the suitcases. "If not, my friend and I would like to go."
+She rose as though to take her departure.</p>
+
+<p>"Yes. There is one thing more. You will have to go to Mrs. Morton's
+hotel with me, so that her daughter may have an opportunity to identify
+you. But it is far too early to start now. I will send out presently and
+have some breakfast brought in."</p>
+
+<p>It was beginning to grow light now. Duvall suggested to Grace that she
+had better go out into the little kitchenette at the rear of the
+apartment and see if she couldn't find the materials for preparing some
+coffee. He himself sat down at the little writing desk, and proceeded
+once more to examine its varnished surface with the greatest care. He
+had thought, if the letters had been sealed here, there would in all
+probability be some tiny spots of the black sealing wax upon the desk
+top, but he could discover nothing. Presently he heard Grace calling to
+him from the kitchen.</p>
+
+<p>Directing Leary to keep an eye on the two women, he joined her at once.</p>
+
+<p>"What is it?" he asked. "Have you discovered anything?"</p>
+
+<p>"No, not exactly. But&mdash;what does that mean?" She pointed to a candle
+which stood in a tin holder on the table. "Do you notice the spots of
+black wax on the candlestick?"</p>
+
+<p>Duvall took the candlestick up and looked at it. There were large
+splashes of sealing wax all over the bottom of the tin tray, not minute
+spots, such as might have been made by the dropping of bits of the hot
+wax in making a seal, but circular splotches half an inch or more in
+diameter, as though a great quantity of the material had been melted.</p>
+
+<p>"What do you make of it?" Duvall asked.</p>
+
+<p>"I don't know. Looks as though she had melted up the whole stick, for
+some reason or other. Possibly to destroy it."</p>
+
+<p>"Hardly that. It would have been far easier to have simply thrown it out
+of the window. And besides, the mere possession of a stick of sealing
+wax, black or otherwise, could not be regarded as evidence. This woman
+is smart, very smart and shrewd. She did not melt that wax up for
+nothing. I think I have an idea of her purpose, although I cannot, of
+course, be sure, yet. Did you find some coffee?"</p>
+
+<p>"Yes. I'll have it ready very soon. What do you make of this woman's
+attitude?"</p>
+
+<p>"It is simple enough. She believes that she can bluff this thing out
+without it being possible to prove her the author of the letters. And
+she may be right. Certainly, unless Miss Morton can identify her, or we
+can discover the death's-head seal in her possession, she stands a very
+good chance of getting away scot free."</p>
+
+<p>The coffee which Grace presently brought in was drunk by the whole party
+in silence. Duvall seemed unusually preoccupied. His eyes scarcely left
+Miss Norman; he appeared to be studying her, watching her every movement
+with extraordinary interest, although he strove, by assuming a careless
+indifference, to disguise his scrutiny. Grace, who knew his methods,
+realized that the sealing wax in the candlestick had suggested some clue
+to him, which he was trying his best to work out.</p>
+
+<p>At about seven o'clock Leary was sent out to fetch some breakfast. By
+half past eight they were ready to go to see Mrs. Morton.</p>
+
+<p>Before doing so, Duvall thought it wise to call the latter up and make
+arrangements about their coming. He presently got Mrs. Morton on the
+wire.</p>
+
+<p>"Good morning, Mrs. Morton. How is your daughter?" he asked.</p>
+
+<p>"Much better," the reply came. "Very much better. I am going to take her
+back to the apartment at once."</p>
+
+<p>"The apartment?"</p>
+
+<p>"Yes. She will be more comfortable there, and safer, too, I think. We
+came here on your advice so that we might escape this fearful
+persecution. But since the persons who have been threatening my daughter
+have discovered our whereabouts, I see no reason for remaining any
+longer. Do you?"</p>
+
+<p>"No. I was going to suggest that you should return. I think I can quite
+safely assure you that there will be no recurrence of the threats."</p>
+
+<p>"Why do you say that?"</p>
+
+<p>"Because I think the woman who has been making them is now in my hands.
+I will bring her to the apartment a little later in the morning so that
+your daughter may identify her. Will eleven o'clock suit you?"</p>
+
+<p>"Yes, very well."</p>
+
+<p>"Then I will come at that hour. Good-by." He hung up the receiver and
+turned to speak to Grace. His eyes, however, sought the figure of Miss
+Norman. She had not anticipated his quick scrutiny, and had for the
+moment ceased to be on her guard. Duvall smiled to himself. The theory
+which the spots of sealing wax had suggested had in that moment received
+an unexpected confirmation.</p>
+
+<br />
+
+<h2><a name="CHAPTER_XX" id="CHAPTER_XX"></a>CHAPTER XX</h2>
+
+
+<p>Ruth Morton had received a fearful shock the evening before, but by the
+morning she had recovered from the immediate effects of it, although she
+still felt extremely weak.</p>
+
+<p>When Duvall and his little party arrived at the apartment on
+Fifty-seventh Street, they were received in the library by Mrs. Morton.</p>
+
+<p>She greeted both Grace and Duvall cordially, but it was evident, from
+her manner, that she found the presence of the Norman woman and Miss
+Ford highly distasteful to her.</p>
+
+<p>Duvall drew her to one side, leaving the two women in charge of Leary
+and Grace.</p>
+
+<p>"How is your daughter now, Mrs. Morton?" he asked.</p>
+
+<p>"Better, I think."</p>
+
+<p>"May I see her for a few moments?"</p>
+
+<p>"Yes. She is expecting you. Come this way, please. She is occupying my
+room at present. She still has a fear of the other one&mdash;the one she
+formerly used."</p>
+
+<p>"I see. But she need not have it now. There will be no further trouble."
+He followed Mrs. Morton into her bedroom.</p>
+
+<p>Ruth, looking very haggard and white, was sitting in an easy chair by
+the window. Duvall was amazed to note how terribly the shock of the
+night before had affected her.</p>
+
+<p>"How do you do, Miss Morton," he said, offering his hand. "I am glad to
+find you almost yourself <a name="again" id="again"></a>again."</p>
+
+<p>The girl looked up with a faint smile.</p>
+
+<p>"Thank you, Mr. Duvall. I am much better. I understand that you have
+found out who has been causing me all this trouble."</p>
+
+<p>"I think I have. But before I go ahead I want you to give me a little
+assistance. Do you think you would know the woman who came to your rooms
+last night, in case you should see her again?"</p>
+
+<p>Miss Morton shuddered.</p>
+
+<p>"I&mdash;I don't know. I do not think I saw her face. It was all so very
+sudden&mdash;&mdash;"</p>
+
+<p>"Tell me about it," Duvall said. "It may help me to get at the facts.
+That is, if you feel able to do so."</p>
+
+<p>"I think I do. What shall I tell you?"</p>
+
+<p>"Just describe, in a few words, what happened."</p>
+
+<p>"Well, as you know, I had been feeling rather better yesterday, and had
+begun to rather laugh at my fears. Mother was with me constantly, and
+Nora as well, and I began to feel quite cheerful again, especially as I
+knew that you were making splendid progress and had found the woman who
+had been writing me. Mother told me that you expected to arrest her
+before the day was over. She said your wife had been helping you, too.</p>
+
+<p>"After dinner Nora, who had been in the hotel all day, asked permission
+to go out for awhile and mother told her she might go. The poor girl had
+been almost a prisoner since we arrived at the hotel. That was about
+eight o'clock.</p>
+
+<p>"About half past eight a boy came to the room with a card, upon which
+was written your wife's name, and a note asking if she might see mother
+for a few moments. We both looked at the card and then mother decided to
+go down and see her. She instructed me to lock the door while she was
+out, and of course I did so.</p>
+
+<p>"In a few minutes mother came back. She seemed greatly excited, said
+that she had seen Mrs. Duvall and that you had sent a message to the
+effect that you had arrested the woman who had been threatening me and
+wanted mother to come to your hotel at once to appear against her in
+court. It was necessary, the woman who pretended to be your wife said,
+that mother should come at once, as otherwise the woman couldn't be
+held.</p>
+
+<p>"We talked the matter over for a few moments and I told her that I
+thought she ought to go. She seemed rather afraid to leave me alone, but
+I promised to keep the door locked, and anyway, as I pointed out to her,
+if the woman was arrested I had nothing further to fear.</p>
+
+<p>"At last mother decided she would go, and left me. I locked the door as
+soon as she went out.</p>
+
+<p>"It seemed to me a very few moments before I heard some one rapping. At
+first I supposed that mother had come back for some reason or other.
+Then I thought it might be Nora who had said she was only going out for
+a breath of air. So, suspecting nothing, I unlocked the door and opened
+it.</p>
+
+<p>"A woman came in, very quickly, before I realized it. She was not tall,
+and rather slight, and I think she had light hair. I couldn't see her
+face well because she had twisted a black veil across it, hiding her
+eyes and the upper part of her features. She turned as soon as she got
+in the room and locked the door.</p>
+
+<p>"I was too surprised for a moment to speak, then I asked her what she
+wanted.</p>
+
+<p>"'I want you,' she said in a terrible voice, and I saw that she was
+taking a bottle from her handbag.</p>
+
+<p>"I was so frightened that I could not cry out, although I tried. You
+see, the warnings I had received had gotten me so worked up that my
+nerves were all on edge, and as soon as I saw the bottle, I concluded
+that the woman was about to throw vitriol in my face. So I put my hands
+to my eyes and ran into the bedroom.</p>
+
+<p>"The woman came behind me, saying that my looks would soon be gone, that
+my days as an actress were over, and other things like that which I
+scarcely heard I was so frightened. When she got to me she caught hold
+of my arm and pulled me around, facing her.</p>
+
+<p>"I couldn't keep my eyes closed now, for I simply <i>had</i> to see what she
+was doing. It seemed worse not looking at her, and then I thought I
+might take the bottle away from her and save myself in that way. So I
+took my hands from my face and rushed toward her.</p>
+
+<p>"Then she raised the bottle and dashed something into my face.</p>
+
+<p>"It seemed hot, stinging, and made my eyes burn frightfully. I was sure
+it was vitriol, and the thought was too much for me I guess, for I felt
+myself falling and&mdash;well, that's all I remember until I woke up and
+found the doctor and mother there. It was a terrible experience. I could
+scarcely believe them, when they told me, after I came to, that I wasn't
+really hurt at all."</p>
+
+<p>Duvall looked at the girl's face. It showed no signs of injury, although
+her eyes were red and inflamed.</p>
+
+<p>"Then it wasn't vitriol after all?" he asked, wondering.</p>
+
+<p>"No, it apparently wasn't. The doctor said he thought it must have been
+ammonia."</p>
+
+<p>"Remarkable!" Duvall muttered to himself. "Why should she have gone to
+all that trouble, just to frighten you?"</p>
+
+<p>"That's apparently all she intended to do from the start. Do you know,
+Mr. Duvall, I've been thinking this thing over, and I believe her whole
+plan from the beginning was merely to ruin me in my work by <i>fear</i>. And
+I must say that she very nearly succeeded."</p>
+
+<p>"Very nearly," said Duvall, with a frown. "If this thing had kept up for
+another week or two, you would have been a complete nervous wreck."</p>
+
+<p>"I am now, I'm afraid," Miss Morton said, sadly. "I don't feel as though
+I could act again for a long time."</p>
+
+<p>"Oh, yes, you will. You have youth, and that is everything. And now,
+tell me, do you think if you took a look at this woman you might
+recognize her?"</p>
+
+<p>The girl shuddered.</p>
+
+<p>"Is she&mdash;here?" she asked.</p>
+
+<p>"Yes. In the library."</p>
+
+<p>"You think it would be quite safe?"</p>
+
+<p>"Quite. She can do you no harm while I am here."</p>
+
+<p>"Very well. I will see her if you wish it, but I am very much afraid
+that I shall not be able to identify her." Duvall held out his hand.</p>
+
+<p>"Come," he said. "I will take you in."</p>
+
+<p>Miss Morton rose, and walking slowly and with considerable effort, went
+with him into the front room. Standing in the doorway, with the
+detective beside her, she confronted the two women. They regarded her
+with stony indifference.</p>
+
+<p>"Miss Morton," Duvall said, "do you recognize either of these two women
+as the one who attacked you in your rooms last night?"</p>
+
+<p>The girl gazed helplessly from Miss Ford to her companion and back
+again. Then she slowly shook her head.</p>
+
+<p>"No," she said. "It might have been either of them. They look somewhat
+alike. But as for saying which one it was, if it <i>was</i> either of them,
+I'm afraid I can't. The woman was veiled. The room was not brightly
+lighted. And I was very much frightened."</p>
+
+<p>The look of disappointment in Duvall's face was reflected in that of
+both Grace and Mrs. Morton. The two women, on the contrary, seemed
+vastly relieved. Miss Norman's mouth curled in rather an ironical smile.</p>
+
+<p>"Are you through with this inquisition now?" she asked. "For if you are,
+my friend and myself would like to continue our journey. You have had no
+right to bring us here in the first place, and I am strongly considering
+making a complaint against you for having done so." She grasped firmly
+the umbrella she had held in her hand all the morning, and turned as
+though to go. Leary, however, stood before the door.</p>
+
+<p>"You apparently have forgotten," Duvall remarked, going toward her,
+"that I still have a charge against you for attacking my wife."</p>
+
+<p>"Very well; make it. I can prove that your wife forcibly entered my
+apartment under false pretense, saying that she was collecting money for
+the war sufferers in Poland. If I attacked her, it was in self-defense."</p>
+
+<p>"That isn't true," cried Grace. "You sprang at me&mdash;&mdash;"</p>
+
+<p>"My word is as good as yours," Miss Norman interrupted. "And my friend
+here will bear out what I say." She nodded to Miss Ford. "You also," she
+again faced Duvall, "broke into my apartment without warrant and killed
+my pet monkey. You will have to answer for that as well. You have
+accused me of sending threatening letters to this girl here. I defy you
+to prove it."</p>
+
+<p>Duvall, who had been coming nearer the woman all the time, reached out
+and snatched from her hands the umbrella she held. The others in the
+room regarded him with astonishment. The woman herself gave a cry of
+anger, and starting forward tried to recover her lost property.</p>
+
+<p>Duvall yielded it to her at once, but not before he had torn from the
+handle two small round balls covered with knitted silk that hung from it
+by a heavy silken cord.</p>
+
+<p>Miss Norman, seeing what he had done, drew back with a cry of anger. A
+few incoherent words trailed from her lips. Duvall, paying no attention
+to her, ripped open one of the silk-meshed coverings and extracted from
+it a small, round black object about the size of a hickory nut.</p>
+
+<p>He gazed at it for a moment, then going quickly to the table in the
+center of the room brought the thing down smartly upon its surface.</p>
+
+<p>There was a crackling sound, and bits of some black substance flew in
+every direction. A moment later the detective raised in his hand a
+glittering bit of metal and held it up so that the others might see it.</p>
+
+<p>"The death's-head seal," he said, quietly.</p>
+
+<p>Miss Norman fell on her knees before Ruth Morton, her hands upraised.</p>
+
+<p>"Forgive me&mdash;forgive me!" she sobbed.</p>
+
+<br />
+
+<h2><a name="CHAPTER_XXI" id="CHAPTER_XXI"></a>CHAPTER XXI</h2>
+
+
+<p>"In reconstructing the case from the beginning," Duvall said, later in
+the day, "one fact stands out with especial prominence&mdash;the almost total
+absence of any definite clues."</p>
+
+<p>He was sitting in the library of the Morton apartment, and with him were
+his wife, Mrs. Morton and Ruth.</p>
+
+<p>"The thing was certainly very cleverly done," Mrs. Morton remarked. "I
+still do not understand it in the least. How, for instance, were the
+letters placed in my daughter's room?"</p>
+
+<p>"I am coming to that," replied Duvall. "But first I will run over the
+case in the light of Miss Norman's confession to me so that you may
+understand it thoroughly and decide what action you wish to take against
+her and her sister, Miss Ford."</p>
+
+<p>"Her sister?"</p>
+
+<p>"Yes. The woman's name is not Norman. It is Ford&mdash;Jane Ford. Norman is
+an assumed name.</p>
+
+<p>"The two of them came to New York about a year ago from somewhere up the
+state&mdash;a small town near Rochester, I believe. One secured employment in
+the motion picture studio&mdash;the other, the one calling herself Miss
+Norman, worked as a stenographer.</p>
+
+<p>"Her interest in motion pictures having been aroused by her sister's
+stories of the life in the studio, she became an ardent picture 'fan,'
+and spent every evening watching the films.</p>
+
+<p>"Her attention was particularly devoted to the pictures in which your
+daughter appeared, owing to the stories her sister told her about Miss
+Morton's marvelous salary, her beauty, the ease with which she had
+become famous.</p>
+
+<p>"These stories naturally inflamed her sister's mind. Working for ten
+dollars a week, she began to compare her state with that of a girl of
+her own age earning a hundred times as much, and gradually the idea
+began to possess her that she could become a motion-picture star
+herself.</p>
+
+<p>"At first she admired Miss Morton immensely and never missed an
+opportunity to see the pictures in which she appeared. Then, convinced
+of her own ability as an actress, she made application at the studio at
+which her sister worked for a position.</p>
+
+<p><a name="itseems" id="itseems"></a>"It seems she haunted the studio for several weeks without getting any
+encouragement. Then, more to get rid of her than for any other reason,
+one of the directors offered her a place as extra woman in a picture
+Miss Morton was doing&mdash;a very minor part, in which she had to appear
+momentarily as a saleswoman at a counter in a department store.</p>
+
+<p>"Unfortunately, when Miss Morton saw her she happened to say to the
+director that she would have preferred a woman of a different type,
+dark, taller, so as to provide a more effective foil to her own type of
+beauty. As a result, the girl did not get the position."</p>
+
+<p>"I am so sorry," Ruth cried. "I hadn't the least idea who the girl was,
+and, of course, I wouldn't have done her any harm for the world."</p>
+
+<p>"I know that," Duvall replied, "but <i>she</i> did not. She is mentally
+rather erratic, and she at once conceived the idea that you had singled
+her out for persecution; that, in fact, you were envious of her
+abilities and meant to prevent her from getting a chance.</p>
+
+<p>"The thing preyed on her mind, and I fancy, unbalanced it a little. She
+conceived a violent hatred for you, and with her sister began to plot
+revenge.</p>
+
+<p>"Her first move was to persuade her sister to move to the house on
+Fifty-seventh Street, close to your apartment. It took them some time to
+find the place&mdash;to secure a room situated as Miss Ford's was, but at
+last they managed it. Then they went to work.</p>
+
+<p>"The letters were all typewritten on a machine belonging to a public
+stenographer whom the girls knew. Jane Ford would stop in at this
+woman's place late in the afternoon and asking permission to use one of
+the machines would type the threatening letters. The paper she used was
+procured especially for her by her sister at a stationery store
+downtown.</p>
+
+<p>"The seal, a curious thing, had belonged to the girls' father, and she
+conceived the idea of signing the letters with it to add to the grimness
+of her threats. As a matter of fact, I do not think she ever had the
+least intention of carrying them out. It was to be solely a campaign of
+fear. She probably thought that she could so frighten you, Miss Morton,
+that your health would be broken down, and your work consequently
+interfered with to such an extent that you would lose your position. As
+I say, I think she is mentally somewhat unbalanced. I cannot account for
+some of her actions, otherwise.</p>
+
+<p>"The mailing of the first letter, the telephone messages, were
+comparatively simple. It was the delivery of those at the apartment that
+taxed her ingenuity. Yet the method was simple enough.</p>
+
+<p>"The girls' father, I am told, had been an animal trainer in a circus,
+and one of his bequests to his daughters was a pet monkey named Jack,
+that had been taught to do all sorts of tricks. The girls brought this
+monkey to New York with them after their father's death. When the
+question arose of delivering the letters in your room, Miss Morton, she
+decided to make use of the animal.</p>
+
+<p>"Creeping out of Marcia Ford's bedroom to the roof of the back building,
+and taking the monkey with her, she crossed the roof of the second house
+and reached the wall of the apartment. From here she was in a position
+to reach either of your bedroom windows in the following manner.</p>
+
+<p>"The monkey was led by means of a long, thin rope, attached to a sort of
+harness about his neck and shoulders. By going to the rear edge of the
+back building they could readily swing him over to the fire-escape,
+while by ascending to the top of the attic roof overlooking the court,
+they could in the same way enable him to reach the other window. The
+monkey had been trained to carry objects in his mouth. This accounts for
+the row of indentations on the letters found in your room. I had
+supposed they came from some mechanical device, fastened to the end of a
+long pole, but as a matter of fact, they were made by the monkey's
+teeth.</p>
+
+<p>"The animal being light in weight, and the pads of his feet being, of
+course, soft, no traces of his presence were left on the newly painted
+surface of the fire-escape. The handkerchief that I found there had been
+knotted about his neck as the collar to which the rope was fastened had
+seemed a bit weak. In some way it became detached, probably when the
+girls jerked on the cord to summon him back after he had completed his
+task.</p>
+
+<p>"In crossing the roofs of the two houses, the monkey's paws, as well as
+the rope, became covered with dust. This explains the spots which seemed
+to be finger marks upon the counterpane of your bed, and the long, dark
+straight line across the bed, which I thought might have been left by a
+rod or pole. As a matter of fact, it was made by a tightly stretched
+rope.</p>
+
+<p>"The sending of the monkey on the night when you were lying in bed must
+have been a mistake. You will remember that, contrary to your usual
+habit, you retired that night very early&mdash;a little after eight o'clock,
+if I remember correctly. The girls, coming over the room, saw that your
+room was dark, and naturally supposed that no one was in it. The
+grinning face of the monkey standing on the bed beside you, was the
+death's head apparition you thought you saw. At your cries the two women
+at once jerked on the cord, and the monkey hastened back to them through
+the partly raised window, leaving no trace of his presence except the
+black smudges of which I have spoken.</p>
+
+<p>"I have no doubt that Jane Ford followed me back to my hotel after one
+of my early visits to your apartment, and thus learned <a name="my" id="my"></a>my name and
+address. Her supposition that I was engaged in an attempt to ferret out
+the writer of the letters was a shrewd guess.</p>
+
+<p>"The photograph was stolen from the studio by Marcia Ford who, being an
+employee, had ample opportunity to stroll about the place after office
+hours without exciting suspicion. She also arranged the subsequent
+delivery of the photograph and the substitution of the fake telegram.</p>
+
+<p>"Even when I made my night visit to Marcia Ford's room, and was attacked
+in the dark by the monkey, I did not suspect what it was. The room was
+pitch dark, and in the gloom I got the impression of a much larger
+object&mdash;a person, in fact, and this impression was heightened by the
+fact that the animal wore a silken jacket, and I felt the sleeve of it
+against my throat. I only regret that the noise, the cries he made,
+singularly human in quality, made it necessary for me to leave the place
+so precipitately.</p>
+
+<p>"The Ford girl and her sister had evidently just come in, and rushing to
+the room found evidences of some one having been there. The monkey had
+been shut in a closet, and by opening the door I had, of course,
+released it. Fearing discovery, they arranged to flee at once. Jane Ford
+went uptown. Her sister remained to pack up her belongings.</p>
+
+<p>"The visit to your hotel, the attack on you, was a crazy inspiration of
+the moment. Not knowing that my wife was following her, and having seen
+me on the sidewalk on Fifty-seventh Street as she drove away, Miss
+Norman naturally felt that if she could get you, Mrs. Morton, out of the
+way, she would be perfectly safe in going up to your rooms.</p>
+
+<p>"Even when alone with your daughter, she did not attempt to do her any
+serious bodily injury, but contented herself with hurling the ammonia in
+her face, counting, no doubt, upon the effect of the shock that would
+result. As I have said, the woman is mentally a little unbalanced. The
+things she does are not normal."</p>
+
+<p>"Nevertheless, they came very near being fatal," Mrs. Morton remarked
+grimly. "The doctor informed me that the fright, the shock of her
+experience, might readily have caused Ruth's death, or upset her
+reason."</p>
+
+<p>"I do not doubt it," replied Duvall. "The woman has all the cunning of
+an insane person. She showed it when, overcome by the sight of the
+death's-head seal I had flashed upon the screen at the theater, she so
+quickly recovered herself that she was able to deceive me completely
+regarding her condition, and subsequently to make her escape.</p>
+
+<p>"Both she and her sister realized that it had become necessary for them
+to leave the city. Marcia Ford, taking the monkey with her in a cab,
+hastened uptown to join her sister at the latter's apartment. She knew
+that I was not following her, for she had seen me drive off to join you,
+Mrs. Morton, at my hotel. They both thought themselves quite safe, and
+able to leave the city without interference.</p>
+
+<p>"The arrival of my wife at their apartment caused them to hasten their
+plans. They realized that we were close upon their heels. Jane Ford knew
+that the ring containing the death's-head seal was about the only
+evidence that existed against her, yet she hesitated to throw it away,
+as it had belonged to her father, and she prized it highly. With the
+cunning that she had exhibited throughout, she conceived the idea of
+hiding it in one of the tassels upon the handle of her umbrella.</p>
+
+<p>"These tassels, as you perhaps know, are usually made of round bits of
+wood, enclosed in a covering of knitted silk. The girl removed one of
+the wooden balls, and having embedded the ring in a ball of black
+sealing wax, put it in place of the wooden one. It was a most ingenious
+hiding place, and one extremely unlikely to be discovered."</p>
+
+<p>"How did you happen to discover it, Mr. Duvall?" Mrs. Morton asked.</p>
+
+<p>"In this way. When my wife called my attention to the spots of black wax
+on the tray of the candlestick, I saw at once that a far larger amount
+of the wax had been melted than would have been required in making an
+ordinary seal. The impressions on the warnings the woman sent were very
+small and flat, so as to readily be inserted in the envelopes containing
+the letters without being bulky, or becoming broken while passing
+through the mails. But here were spots of the wax that had dripped down
+as large as a silver quarter and larger. What, I wondered, had caused
+the woman to melt so large a quantity of wax?</p>
+
+<p>"I attempted to put myself in her place and to think what she would do
+to hide the seal ring. The idea of embedding it in a ball of the wax
+occurred to me. But, having done this, what would she do with the ball?
+It was not an easy thing to hide; in her purse, her satchel, it would
+have attracted attention at once. Then I noticed the round black
+ornaments hanging from her umbrella, with their silken cords and
+tassels. What better place to hide the ball of <a name="wax" id="wax"></a>wax?</p>
+
+<p>"In order to test my theory, I twice attempted to take the umbrella from
+her on our way here, as though to relieve her of the trouble of carrying
+it. In both instances she drew back at once, and refused to allow the
+umbrella to leave her possession. This action on her part convinced me
+that my guess had been a correct one. The subsequent finding of the ring
+broke down her assurance. As you know, she has made a complete
+confession."</p>
+
+<p>"Poor woman," Ruth Morton remarked. "What are you going to do with her?"</p>
+
+<p>"That rests with you, Miss Morton. If you decide to prosecute you can
+readily do so. The penalty for sending threatening letters through the
+mails is not a light one. And her attack upon you, under the
+circumstances, is a very serious matter indeed."</p>
+
+<p>Ruth turned to her mother.</p>
+
+<p>"I think we ought to let them go," she said.</p>
+
+<p>"And have the same trouble over again," Mrs. Morton replied. "I could
+never feel safe with that woman at large."</p>
+
+<p>"I do not think she will trouble you again, Mrs. Morton," remarked
+Duvall. "She is thoroughly frightened. All her assurance has
+disappeared. She begs that she and her sister be allowed to return home
+at once. It seems that some relative in Rochester has offered them a
+home there, and they were going to join her when we intercepted them."</p>
+
+<p>"Then let them go," Ruth Morton exclaimed. "I certainly do not wish to
+cause them any harm, especially as you tell me the woman who originated
+the whole thing is mentally not quite right."</p>
+
+<p>"She is certainly unbalanced, so far as her grievance against you is
+concerned. But I feel sure that were you to explain matters to her, and
+let her understand that your action in losing her the position at the
+studio was quite impersonal on your part, she will realize the folly of
+what she has done, and come to her senses."</p>
+
+<p>"I will do it," said Ruth. "I don't want to injure her any more. Let
+them go home in peace."</p>
+
+<p>"Very well." Duvall rose to go. <a name="permit" id="permit"></a>"Permit me to say, Mrs. Morton, that I
+admire your daughter's generosity very much. Good morning." He and Grace
+bade their hosts good-by and took their leave.</p>
+
+<p>"She's a lovely girl," Grace remarked, as they drove to their hotel. "I
+like her immensely."</p>
+
+<p>"Then you aren't jealous of me any more, because I so suddenly became a
+motion-picture 'fan'?"</p>
+
+<p>"Richard!" she laughed. "Don't be silly. I suppose I shall always be
+jealous of you when a girl, as beautiful as Ruth Morton, is concerned.
+After all, to be jealous is only a woman's way of paying tribute to
+another woman's charms."</p>
+
+<p>Duvall laughed.</p>
+
+<p>"It was Miss Ford's way, too," he said, "but as a means of showing one's
+appreciation it had its faults."</p>
+
+<p>THE END.</p>
+</div>
+<div>
+<br />
+<h2><a name="THE_NOVELS_OF" id="THE_NOVELS_OF"></a>THE NOVELS OF MARY ROBERTS RINEHART</h2>
+
+<p class="center">May be had wherever books are sold. Ask for Grosset &amp; Dunlap's list.</p>
+
+<br />
+
+<p>"K." Illustrated.</p>
+
+<p>K. LeMoyne, famous surgeon, drops out of the world that has known him,
+and goes to live in a little town where beautiful Sidney Page lives. She
+is in training to become a nurse. The joys and troubles of their young
+love are told with that keen and sympathetic appreciation which has made
+the author famous.</p>
+<br />
+
+<p>THE MAN IN LOWER TEN.</p>
+
+<p>Illustrated by Howard Chandler Christy.</p>
+
+<p>An absorbing detective story woven around the mysterious death of the
+"Man in Lower Ten." The strongest elements of Mrs. Rinehart's success
+are found in this book.</p>
+<br />
+
+<p>WHEN A MAN MARRIES.</p>
+
+<p>Illustrated by Harrison Fisher and Mayo Bunker.</p>
+
+<p>A young artist, whose wife had recently divorced him, finds that his
+aunt is soon to visit him. The aunt, who contributes to the family
+income and who has never seen the wife, knows nothing of the domestic
+upheaval. How the young man met the situation is humorously and most
+entertainingly told.</p>
+<br />
+
+<p>THE CIRCULAR STAIRCASE. Illus. by Lester Ralph.</p>
+
+<p>The summer occupants of "Sunnyside" find the dead body of Arnold
+Armstrong, the son of the owner, on the circular staircase. Following
+the murder a bank failure is announced. Around these two events is woven
+a plot of absorbing interest.</p>
+<br />
+
+<p>THE STREET OF SEVEN STARS.</p>
+
+<p>Illustrated (Photo Play Edition.)</p>
+
+<p>Harmony Wells, studying in Vienna to be a great violinist, suddenly
+realizes that her money is almost gone. She meets a young ambitious
+doctor who offers her chivalry and sympathy, and together with
+world-worn Dr. Anna and Jimmie, the waif, they share their love and
+slender means.</p>
+<br />
+
+
+<h2><a name="B_M_BOWERS_NOVELS" id="B_M_BOWERS_NOVELS"></a>B. M. BOWER'S NOVELS</h2>
+
+<p class="center">May be had wherever books are sold. Ask for Grosset and Dunlap's list.</p>
+<br />
+
+<p>CHIP OF THE FLYING U. Wherein the love affairs of Chip and Della Whitman
+are charmingly and humorously told.</p>
+
+
+<p>THE HAPPY FAMILY. A lively and amusing story, dealing with the
+adventures of eighteen jovial, big hearted Montana cowboys.</p>
+
+
+<p>HER PRAIRIE KNIGHT. Describing a gay party of Easterners who exchange a
+cottage at Newport for a Montana ranch-house.</p>
+
+
+<p>THE RANGE DWELLERS. Spirited action, a range feud <a name="between" id="between"></a>between two families,
+and a Romeo and Juliet courtship make this a bright, jolly story.</p>
+
+
+<p>THE LURE OF THE DIM TRAILS. A vivid portrayal of the experience of an
+Eastern author among the cowboys.</p>
+
+
+<p>THE LONESOME TRAIL. A little branch of sage brush and the recollection
+of a pair of large brown eyes upset "Weary" Davidson's plans.</p>
+
+
+<p>THE LONG SHADOW. A vigorous Western story, sparkling with the free
+outdoor life of a mountain ranch. It is a fine love story.</p>
+
+
+<p>GOOD INDIAN. A stirring romance of life on an Idaho ranch.</p>
+
+
+<p>FLYING U RANCH. Another delightful story about Chip and his pals.</p>
+
+
+<p>THE FLYING U'S LAST STAND. An amusing account of Chip and the other boys
+opposing a party of school teachers.</p>
+
+
+<p>THE UPHILL CLIMB. A story of a mountain ranch and of a man's hard fight
+on the uphill road to manliness.</p>
+
+
+<p>THE PHANTOM HERD. The title of a moving-picture staged in New Mexico by
+the "Flying U" boys.</p>
+
+
+<p>THE HERITAGE OF THE SIOUX. The "Flying U" boys stage a fake bank robbery
+for film purposes which precedes a real one for lust of gold.</p>
+
+
+<p>THE GRINGOS. A story of love and adventure on a ranch in California.</p>
+
+
+<p>STARR OF THE DESERT. A New Mexico ranch story of mystery and adventure.</p>
+
+
+<p>THE LOOKOUT MAN. A Northern California story full of action, excitement
+and love.</p>
+</div>
+<div>
+<br />
+<hr />
+</div>
+<div>
+<p><b>Transcriber's Notes:</b></p>
+
+<p>Table of Contents was not present in original.</p>
+
+<p>Typographical errors in original have been corrected as follows:</p>
+
+<br />
+<p>Chapter III</p>
+
+<p>"Would you take one, if it were offered to you<b>,</b>" asked Grace quickly.</p>
+
+<p><i>changed to:</i>  "Would you take one, if it were offered to <a href="#toyou">you<b>?</b></a>" asked Grace quickly.</p>
+
+<p>"No one<b>,</b> but an old negro cook, who has been with me for years.</p>
+
+<p><i>changed to:</i>  "No <a href="#one">one</a> but an old negro cook, who has been with me for years.</p>
+
+<p>I am going to take the case largely <b>bceause</b> it has interested me,</p>
+
+<p><i>changed to:</i>  I am going to take the case largely <a href="#because"><b>because</b></a> it has interested me,</p>
+
+<br />
+<p>Chapter IV</p>
+
+<p>Duvall examined this house next door with a great deal of interest</p>
+
+<p><i>changed to:</i>  Duvall examined this house next door with a great deal of <a href="#interest">interest<b>.</b></a></p>
+
+<p>"Nothing, so far. I confess the thing is somewhat of a puzzle.</p>
+
+<p><i>changed to:</i>  "Nothing, so far. I confess the thing is somewhat of a <a href="#puzzle">puzzle.<b>"</b></a></p>
+
+<br />
+<p>Chapter V</p>
+
+<p>...eyes of the two men were <b>tent</b> curiously upon her,</p>
+
+<p><i>changed to:</i>  ...eyes of the two men were <a href="#bent"><b>bent</b></a> curiously upon her,</p>
+
+<p>Why, sir<b>.</b> Is anything wrong?"</p>
+
+<p><i>changed to:</i> Why, <a href="#sir">sir<b>?</b></a> Is anything wrong?"</p>
+
+<br />
+<p>Chapter VI</p>
+
+<p><b>Dora</b> will bring me some dinner," she said,</p>
+
+<p><i>changed to:</i>  <a href="#nora"><b>Nora</b></a> will bring me some dinner," she said,</p>
+
+<p>She has become a sort of public character.<b>"</b></p>
+
+<p><i>changed to:</i> She has become a sort of public <a href="#character">character.</a></p>
+
+<br />
+<p>Chapter VII</p>
+
+<p>Duvall turned to his companion with a <b>juzzled</b> frown.</p>
+
+<p><i>changed to:</i>  Duvall turned to his companion with a <a href="#puzzled"><b>puzzled</b></a> frown.</p>
+
+<p>...but even his head, far below the sill of this window<b>.</b> nor could anyone so support themselves,</p>
+
+<p><i>changed to:</i>  ...but even his head, far below the sill of this <a href="#window">window<b>,</b></a> nor could anyone so support themselves,</p>
+
+<p>...may have to be here some time<b>,</b> I've got a queer case...</p>
+
+<p><i>changed to:</i>  ...may have to be here some <a href="#time">time<b>.</b></a> I've got a queer case...</p>
+
+<br />
+<p>Chapter VIII</p>
+
+<p>"Nothing, replied Mrs. Morton.</p>
+
+<p><i>changed to:</i>  <a href="#nothing">"Nothing,<b>"</b></a> replied Mrs. Morton.</p>
+
+<p>"This is where Mr. Moore receives his callers<b>:</b></p>
+
+<p><i>changed to:</i>  "This is where Mr. Moore receives his <a href="#callers">callers<b>.</b></a></p>
+
+<p>...at the Grand to-night, <b>It</b> will be your last</p>
+
+<p><i>changed to:</i>  ...at the Grand to-night, <a href="#itwill"><b>it</b></a> will be your last.</p>
+
+<p>"Last night I knew it would be needed to-day."</p>
+
+<p><i>changed to:</i>  "Last <a href="#night">night<b>.</b></a> I knew it would be needed to-day."</p>
+
+<p>...when the moment arrived, I gave it to the actor who took it to Miss Morton<b>:</b>"</p>
+
+<p><i>changed to:</i>  ...when the moment arrived, I gave it to the actor who took it to Miss <a href="#morton">Morton<b>.</b>"</a></p>
+
+<p>...Duvall asked Ruth, after they had <b>had</b> started away from the studio.</p>
+
+<p><i>changed to:</i>  ...Duvall asked Ruth, after they <a href="#had">had</a> started away from the studio.</p>
+
+<br />
+<p>Chapter IX</p>
+
+<p>With a polite bow he passed <b>no</b>.</p>
+
+<p><i>changed to:</i>  With a polite bow he passed <a href="#on"><b>on</b>.</a></p>
+
+<p>...mysterious reference to "Ruth Morton's affairs" mean<b>.</b></p>
+
+<p><i>changed to:</i> ...mysterious reference to "Ruth Morton's affairs" <a href="#mean">mean<b>?</b></a></p>
+
+<br />
+<p>Chapter X</p>
+
+<p><b>Duval</b>, after having satisfied himself that...</p>
+
+<p><i>changed to:</i>  <a href="#duvall"><b>Duvall</b></a>, after having satisfied himself that...</p>
+
+<p>The lovely face of Ruth Morton once more greeted the eyes of the audience</p>
+
+<p><i>changed to:</i> The lovely face of Ruth Morton once more greeted the eyes of the <a href="#audience">audience<b>.</b></a></p>
+
+<p>...the water about with the end of a <b>leadpencil</b> until the tablet...</p>
+
+<p><i>changed to:</i>  ...the water about with the end of a <a href="#lead"><b>lead pencil</b></a> until the tablet...</p>
+
+<br />
+<p>Chapter XI</p>
+
+<p>...sent him into the <b>drag</b> store in order that she...</p>
+
+<p><i>changed to:</i>  ...sent him into the <a href="#drug"><b>drug</b></a> store in order that she...</p>
+
+<p>...provided the card is, as I conclude, torn exactly in half.</p>
+
+<p><i>changed to:</i>  ...provided the card is, as I conclude, torn exactly in <a href="#half">half.<b>"</b></a></p>
+
+<p>...begins with 'Mar,' Duvall said. I will put them down on a sheet of paper."</p>
+
+<p><i>changed to:</i>  ...begins with <a href="#mar">'Mar,'<b>"</b> Duvall said. <b>"</b>I</a> will put them down on a sheet of paper." </p>
+
+<p>It may be that Miss Marcia Ford,...</p>
+
+<p><i>changed to:</i>  <a href="#itmay"><b>"</b>It</a> may be that Miss Marcia Ford,...</p>
+
+<p>...extended a half sheet of <b>none-paper</b> toward the detective.</p>
+
+<p><i>changed to:</i>  ...extended a half sheet of <a href="#note"><b>note-paper</b></a> toward the detective.</p>
+
+<p>...he said, "that it will<b>,</b> be necessary for you to remain...</p>
+
+<p><i>changed to:</i>  ...he said, "that it <a href="#will">will</a> be necessary for you to remain...</p>
+
+<p>Mr. Emmett, who is in charge there, can tell <b>as</b> about Miss Ford."</p>
+
+<p><i>changed to:</i>  Mr. Emmett, who is in charge there, can tell <a href="#us"><b>us</b></a> about Miss Ford."</p>
+
+<br />
+<p>Chapter XII</p>
+
+<p>The thing is utterly incomprehensible.<b>"</b></p>
+
+<p><i>changed to:</i> The thing is utterly <a href="#incomprehensible">incomprehensible.</a></p>
+
+<p>What's the matter with you<b>.</b></p>
+
+<p><i>changed to:</i>  What's the matter with <a href="#you">you<b>?</b></a></p>
+
+<p>...in case anyone questioned him about me.<b>"</b></p>
+
+<p><i>changed to:</i> ...in case anyone questioned him about <a href="#me">me.</a></p>
+
+<p>She gave him a name and address.</p>
+
+<p><i>changed to:</i>  <a href="#she"><b>"</b>She</a> gave him a name and address.</p>
+
+<br />
+<p>Chapter XV</p>
+
+<p>"Yes. I came to see you about a matter of importance.</p>
+
+<p><i>changed to:</i>  "Yes. I came to see you about a matter of <a href="#importance">importance.<b>"</b></a></p>
+
+<br />
+<p>Chapter XVI</p>
+
+<p>...been following appeared, wearing a flowered <b>kimona</b>.</p>
+
+<p><i>changed to:</i>  ...been following appeared, wearing a flowered <a href="#kimono"><b>kimono</b>.</a></p>
+
+<br />
+<p>Chapter XVII</p>
+
+<p>"Very well Get me a cab.</p>
+
+<p><i>changed to:</i>  "Very <a href="#well">well<b>.</b></a> Get me a cab.</p>
+
+<p>He was overjoyed<b>,</b> when it was opened by a man...</p>
+
+<p><i>changed to:</i>  He was <a href="#overjoyed">overjoyed</a> when it was opened by a man...</p>
+
+<p>He doubted his ability to break it in<b>.</b> nor did he wish...</p>
+
+<p><i>changed to:</i>  He doubted his ability to break it <a href="#in">in<b>,</b></a> nor did he wish...</p>
+
+<br />
+<p>Chapter XVIII</p>
+
+<p>...wouldn't give me a chance at any price<b>.</b></p>
+
+<p><i>changed to:</i> ...wouldn't give me a chance at any <a href="#price">price<b>?</b></a></p>
+
+<br />
+<p>Chapter XIX</p>
+
+<p>"<b>'</b>Is there anything more you want of us?" Miss Norman asked, </p>
+
+<p><i>changed to:</i>  <a href="#isthere">"Is</a> there anything more you want of us?" Miss Norman asked, </p>
+
+<br />
+<p>Chapter XX</p>
+
+<p>"I am glad to find you almost yourself again.</p>
+
+<p><i>changed to:</i>  "I am glad to find you almost yourself <a href="#again">again.<b>"</b></a></p>
+
+<br />
+<p>Chapter XXI</p>
+
+<p>It seems she haunted the studio for several weeks without...</p>
+
+<p><i>changed to:</i>  <a href="#itseems"><b>"</b>It</a> seems she haunted the studio for several weeks without...</p>
+
+<p>...and thus learned <b>by</b> name and address.</p>
+
+<p><i>changed to:</i>  and thus learned <a href="#my"><b>my</b></a> name and address.</p>
+
+<p>What better place to hide the ball of wax<b>.</b></p>
+
+<p><i>changed to:</i> What better place to hide the ball of <a href="#wax">wax<b>?</b></a></p>
+
+<p>Permit me to say, Mrs. Morton, that I...</p>
+
+<p><i>changed to:</i>  <a href="#permit"><b>"</b>Permit</a> me to say, Mrs. Morton, that I...</p>
+
+<br />
+<p>B.M. Bower's Novels</p>
+
+<p>THE RANGE DWELLERS. Spirited action, a range feud <b>be</b> two families, and a...</p>
+
+<p><i>changed to:</i>  THE RANGE DWELLERS. Spirited action, a range feud <a href="#between"><b>between</b></a> two families, and a...</p>
+
+<br />
+</div>
+
+
+
+
+
+
+
+
+
+<pre>
+
+
+
+
+
+End of the Project Gutenberg EBook of The Film of Fear, by Arnold Fredericks
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+</body>
+</html>
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+The Project Gutenberg EBook of The Film of Fear, by Arnold Fredericks
+
+This eBook is for the use of anyone anywhere at no cost and with
+almost no restrictions whatsoever.  You may copy it, give it away or
+re-use it under the terms of the Project Gutenberg License included
+with this eBook or online at www.gutenberg.org
+
+
+Title: The Film of Fear
+
+Author: Arnold Fredericks
+
+Illustrator: Will Foster
+
+Release Date: July 23, 2009 [EBook #29498]
+
+Language: English
+
+Character set encoding: ASCII
+
+*** START OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK THE FILM OF FEAR ***
+
+
+
+
+Produced by Cindy Horton, Suzanne Shell and the Online
+Distributed Proofreading Team at https://www.pgdp.net (This
+file was produced from images generously made available
+by The Internet Archive/American Libraries.)
+
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+
+
+
+
+
+
+                                THE
+
+                            FILM OF FEAR
+
+
+
+                                BY
+
+                         ARNOLD FREDERICKS
+
+
+
+                            AUTHOR OF
+
+                     THE IVORY SNUFF BOX, ETC.
+
+
+
+
+                        WITH FRONTISPIECE BY
+
+                            WILL FOSTER
+
+
+
+
+                              NEW YORK
+
+                          GROSSET & DUNLAP
+
+                             PUBLISHERS
+
+                        COPYRIGHT, 1917, BY
+
+                        W. J. WATT & COMPANY
+
+
+
+
+THE FILM OF FEAR
+
+
+
+
+PART I
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER I
+
+
+Ruth Morton finished her cup of coffee, brushed a microscopic crumb from
+her embroidered silk kimono, pushed back her loosely arranged brown
+hair, and resumed the task of opening her mail.
+
+It was in truth a task, and one that consumed an inordinate amount of
+her valuable time. And her time was extremely valuable. Computed upon
+the basis of her weekly salary of one thousand dollars, it figured out
+just $142.85 per day, or very nearly $6 per hour, or 10 cents per
+minute, for each minute and hour of the twenty-four. As a motion picture
+star, she had the satisfaction of knowing that she was paid a slightly
+larger salary than had been, until recently, received by the President
+of the United States.
+
+The opening of the huge batch of letters that greeted her daily across
+her dainty breakfast table was very much of a duty. It was not that she
+felt any keen interest in the numberless notes from admirers, both male
+and female, from Portland, Me., to Los Angeles, Cal., to say nothing of
+South Bend, Opeloosa and Kicking Horse between. These might readily have
+been consigned to the depths of the wastebasket unopened, unread. But
+there was always the chance that, intermingled with this mass of
+adulation, there might be a real letter, from a real friend, or a
+business communication of importance from some picture company possibly,
+prepared to offer her two thousand dollars per week, instead of one
+thousand, at the expiration of her present contract. So the mail had to
+be carefully opened, at least, even if the bulk of it was tossed aside
+unread.
+
+Her mother usually assisted her in this daily task, but to-day Mrs.
+Morton, oppressed by a slight attack of indigestion, slept late, and
+Ruth proceeded with the operation alone.
+
+She was a singularly attractive girl, combining a wholesome and quite
+unassumed innocence with a certain measure of sophistication, gained by
+daily contact with the free and easy life of the studios. Her brown eyes
+were large and wondering, as though she still found it difficult to
+realize that within four years she had stepped from comparative poverty
+to the possession of an income which a duke or a prince might readily
+have envied. Her features, pleasing, regular, somewhat large, gave to
+her that particular type of beauty which lends itself best to the
+eccentricities of the camera. Her figure, graceful, well modeled, with
+the soft roundness of youth, enabled her to wear with becoming grace
+almost any costume, from the simple frock of the school girl to the
+costly gowns of the woman of fashion. Add to this a keen intelligence
+and a delightful vivacity of manner, and the reason for Ruth Morton's
+popularity among motion picture "fans" from coast to coast was at once
+apparent.
+
+She sat in the handsomely appointed dining-room of the apartment on
+Fifty-seventh Street which she and her mother had occupied for the past
+two years. The room, paneled in dull ivory, provided a perfect setting
+for the girl's unusual beauty. In her kimono of Nile green and gold, she
+presented a figure of such compelling charm that Nora, her maid, as she
+removed the empty coffee-cup, sighed to herself, if not with envy, at
+least with regret, that the good God had not made _her_ along lines that
+would insure an income of over fifty thousand dollars a year.
+
+Ruth sliced open half a dozen more letters with her ivory paper knife
+and prepared to drop them into the waste basket. One was from a
+manufacturer of cold cream, soliciting a testimonial. Two others were
+from ungrammatical school girls, asking her how they should proceed, in
+order to become motion picture stars. Another was an advertisement of a
+new automobile. The fifth requested an autographed picture of herself.
+She swept the five over the edge of the table with a sigh of relief. How
+stupid of all these people, she thought, to take up their time, and her
+own, so uselessly.
+
+The sixth letter, from its external appearance, might readily have been
+of no greater interest than the other five, and yet, something
+intangible about it caused her to pause for a moment before inserting
+the point of the knife beneath the flap of the envelope. It was a large
+envelope, square, formal-looking. The address upon it was typewritten.
+Unlike the majority of the other letters, forwarded from the studio, it
+bore the street and number of the apartment house in which she lived.
+The envelope was postmarked New York, and was sealed with a splotch of
+black sealing wax, which, however, contained the imprint of no monogram
+or seal, but was crossed both vertically and horizontally by a series of
+fine parallel lines, dividing its surface into minute squares.
+
+Ruth observed these several peculiarities of the letter she was about to
+open, with growing interest. The usual run of her correspondence was so
+dull and uninteresting that anything out of the ordinary was apt to
+attract her attention. Slipping the ivory blade of the paper knife
+quickly beneath the flap of the envelope, she cut it open.
+
+The letter within, written on the same heavy paper as that composing the
+envelope, contained but three typewritten lines. It was not these,
+however, that instantly attracted Ruth's attention, but the signature
+appended to them. This signature did not consist of a name, but of an
+astonishing seal, imprinted upon a bit of the same black sealing wax
+with which the envelope had been fastened. And the device, as Ruth bent
+over it to make out its clearcut but rather fine lines, filled her with
+a sudden and overwhelming dismay.
+
+It was a grinning death's head, about half an inch in width, with
+eye-sockets staring vacantly, and grisly mouth gaping in a wide and
+horrible smile, made the more horrible by the two rows of protruding
+teeth. The girl almost dropped the letter, as full realization of the
+significance of the design swept over her.
+
+Hastily she recovered herself, and with trembling fingers raised the
+letter from her lap. The three typewritten lines upon the sheet were, if
+anything, more horrifying than the device beneath them. "Your beauty has
+made you rich and famous," the letter read. "Without it you could do
+nothing. Within thirty days it shall be destroyed, and you will be
+hideous."
+
+For a long time Ruth sat gazing at the words before her. In spite of
+their ghastly significance she could with difficulty bring herself to
+believe that she had an enemy in the world sufficiently ruthless,
+sufficiently envious of her beauty and her success, to be capable of
+either threatening her in this brutal way, or of carrying such a threat
+into execution. So far as she knew, there was not a single person of all
+her acquaintance who wished her ill. Her own nature was too sweet, too
+sympathetic, too free from malice and bitterness, to conceive for a
+moment that the very charms which had brought her fame, success, might
+also be the means of bringing her envy and hatred in like proportion.
+She cast about in her mind for some possible, some reasonable
+explanation of the matter, but try as she would, she was unable to think
+of anyone with whom she had ever come in contact, capable of threatening
+her in this terrible way. She had about decided that the whole thing
+must be some stupidly conceived practical joke, when she saw her mother
+cross the hall and come into the room.
+
+Mrs. Harriet Morton was a woman of fifty, handsome and youthful in spite
+of her gray hair, her years. That she had once been extremely
+good-looking could have been told at a glance; anyone seeing mother and
+daughter together experienced no difficulty in determining the source of
+Ruth Morton's charms.
+
+"Well, dear," said the older woman, with a pleasant smile. "Haven't you
+finished your letters yet?" She glanced toward the clock on the mantel.
+"You'll have to leave for the studio in half an hour." Ruth nodded,
+gazing at her mother rather uneasily.
+
+"You'll have to open the rest of them, mother," she said, indicating the
+pile of letters. "I--I'm tired."
+
+Mrs. Morton came up to her daughter and passed her hand over the girl's
+glossy hair.
+
+"What's wrong, Ruth? You look as though something had frightened you."
+Then her eyes fell upon the letter lying in the girl's lap, and she
+paused suddenly.
+
+Ruth handed her mother the sheet of paper.
+
+"I--I just got this," she said, simply.
+
+Mrs. Morton took the letter quickly from her daughter's hand and
+proceeded to read it. A look of apprehension crept into her eyes, but
+she did her best to appear unconcerned.
+
+"Some crank," she said, after she had mastered the sudden fear that
+swept over her. "I shouldn't pay any attention to it, if I were you, my
+dear. There are a lot of people in the world that have nothing better to
+do, than play silly jokes like that."
+
+"Then you don't think it amounts to anything?" Ruth asked, somewhat
+relieved.
+
+"Certainly not. Just a stupid plan to frighten you. Pay no attention to
+it. No"--she folded the letter as the girl put out her hand--"I'll take
+charge of this. Now you'd better hurry and get ready. The car will be
+waiting for you at nine, and Mr. Edwards expects to start that new
+picture to-day, doesn't he?"
+
+"Yes." The girl rose. "It's a beautiful part. I'm the daughter of an old
+music teacher, who dies in Brooklyn, and leaves me in poverty. And later
+on, it turns out he was the heir to the throne of Moravia, and I'm a
+princess. Lots of adventures, and spies, and all that. Ralph Turner is
+the lover. He's awfully good-looking, don't you think?"
+
+Mrs. Morton assented in rather a preoccupied way, as her daughter left
+the room. She was still thinking of the brutal threat which the girl had
+just received, and of the possible dangers to which she might as a
+result be exposed. Mrs. Morton by no means felt the matter to be a joke,
+in spite of the assurances she had given Ruth. The tone of the letter,
+the evident care which had been taken to prevent the identity of the
+writer from becoming known, filled her with the gravest alarm.
+
+As she sat pondering the matter, Nora came into the room, with Ruth's
+dust coat and parasol in her hands. Mrs. Morton beckoned to the girl,
+then spoke to her in a low voice.
+
+"Nora," she said, "Miss Ruth received a letter this morning, from
+somebody who is envious of her beauty and success. I pretended to make
+light of the matter, but there may be something back of it. I want you
+to watch her carefully while you are away from the house. Be on your
+guard every moment of the time. Don't let anyone come near her. They
+might try to throw acid, or something of the sort. I shan't feel safe
+until she is home again."
+
+The maid's face lit up with a significant smile. From her manner it was
+clear that she fairly worshiped her young mistress.
+
+"I'll not let anyone do her any harm, Mrs. Morton," she said, earnestly.
+"You may be sure of that."
+
+"And don't let her know," Mrs. Morton added hastily, in a low voice, as
+she saw Ruth come to the door, "that I am at all worried. She must not
+have a threat like that on her mind."
+
+The maid nodded, then turned toward the door where Ruth stood.
+
+"Well, mother, good-by," the latter exclaimed with a laugh. "You can
+open all the rest of the letters, and if you come across any more like
+that last one, please keep them. I think I'll begin a collection."
+
+Mrs. Morton forced herself to join in the girl's laughter.
+
+"There won't be any more, dear," she said, kissing the girl fondly.
+"Don't bother your head about such things. They're not worth it. And
+come home as soon as you get through."
+
+"All right, mother. We're going to the theater to-night, aren't we?
+Don't forget to get the tickets." With a smile she left the room, and a
+few moments later Mrs. Morton heard the rumble of the descending
+elevator.
+
+She sat in silence for a long time, thinking, a great fear clutching at
+her heart. Her life, she reflected, had held, until recently, but little
+of happiness. The long, weary days of poverty, when her husband,
+incapacitated by a paralytic stroke, had seen his savings slowly dwindle
+away; the death of her son, and then that of Mr. Morton himself passed
+before her mental vision. Only Ruth had been left to her, and in the
+girl's happiness and success lay Mrs. Morton's whole life and being.
+Now, that things had at last taken a turn, and the future seemed clear
+and assured ahead of her, was some dreadful tragedy to change all her
+joy to sorrow? She turned to the pile of still unopened letters with a
+sigh, afraid, almost to proceed with the task of reading them. Yet, an
+hour later, when they had all been disposed of without further threats
+against Ruth having been discovered, she breathed more easily. Perhaps,
+after all, the horrible letter was merely a silly joke. She took it out
+and examined it again with the greatest care, but no clue to the
+identity of the writer rewarded her scrutiny. The message remained
+clear, terrible, full of sinister meaning. "_Within thirty days it shall
+be destroyed, and you will be hideous!_" The grinning death's head seal
+stared up at her, fascinatingly horrible. Mrs. Morton quickly placed the
+letter in her bosom.
+
+Rising, she left the room, and proceeded to that occupied by Ruth. It
+pleased her, notwithstanding the servants, to take care of it herself.
+Mrs. Morton was passionately devoted to her beautiful daughter. In her,
+the sun rose and set.
+
+She glanced about the daintily furnished room with a smile. The
+appointments were simple, almost girlish, in spite of their owner's
+large salary. Mrs. Morton began to set the room to rights. She had
+finished making the bed, and had gone over to the dressing table to
+arrange the articles upon it, when a square of white upon the floor
+attracted her attention.
+
+It lay upon the rug in front of the dressing table, and appeared to be a
+letter of some sort.
+
+Supposing it to be something that the girl had dropped in the hurry of
+leaving, Mrs. Morton stooped and picked it up. Then a queer feeling of
+dismay came over her. The large square white envelope, the typewritten
+address, bore a singular and disquieting resemblance to the one in which
+the threatening letter had been received so short a time before.
+
+With trembling hands, Mrs. Morton tore the envelope open and removed the
+folded sheet of paper within. When her eyes fell upon the contents of
+the latter, she shuddered, and stood white with fear.
+
+There was a message in typewritten characters upon the sheet, and Mrs.
+Morton read it with a groan of despair.
+
+"_Only twenty-nine days more!_" the message said. "We shall not fail."
+Below the words grinned the frightful death's head seal.
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER II
+
+
+Mrs. Harriet Morton was a courageous woman, but when she read the second
+threat against her daughter, she was filled with instant indignation and
+horror. The thing was so appallingly mysterious, so utterly without
+reasonable explanation.
+
+Ruth had left the room but a few moments before. Certainly the letter
+was not upon the floor then. The maid, Nora, had gone with her. That
+removed her from any suspicion, even had such a thought been reasonable
+or possible, and Mrs. Morton felt it was not. The only other person in
+the apartment was Mary, their old cook, a negro from the south, who had
+been a faithful and patient member of the Morton household for over ten
+years. That she could have had a hand in placing this mysterious message
+in Ruth's bedroom seemed incredible, not to be entertained for a moment.
+And yet, there was the message, appallingly simple, direct, threatening.
+"_Only twenty-nine days more!_" Mrs. Morton shuddered.
+
+She glanced about the room. How had the letter come there? Certainly not
+by means of the door. Yet it seemed equally out of the question that it
+could have been brought in through one of the windows.
+
+There were two in the room, one facing to the front, and opening upon a
+court, the other in the rear, overlooking the yards of the houses on the
+next street. She went to the front window, which was raised only a few
+inches, and gazed out.
+
+Below her stretched the wide court, flanked on one hand by the side of
+the apartment building, on the other by the blank wall of an adjoining
+house. The latter was some ten feet from where she stood, and _there
+were no windows in it_! She turned to the window at the other side of
+the room.
+
+Here a fire escape led down to an alley at the rear of the building.
+Could it have been in this way that the letter had been delivered? The
+thing seemed impossible. Not only was the window closed, but she knew
+that the ladders did not reach all the way to the ground, the last
+section being pulled up, to be dropped only in case of fire. With a
+mystified look she returned to the center of the room.
+
+The letter grinned at her from the dresser, on which she had left it.
+Ruth must never hear of the matter, she knew. Taking it up, she placed
+it in the bosom of her dress along with the one which had arrived
+earlier in the day. Then she sat down to decide what she had best do
+next.
+
+To trifle with so dangerous a situation was no longer to be thought of.
+One message, the first, might have been a foolish joke. The second
+proved that the danger threatening her daughter was real, imminent.
+
+At first she thought of placing the matter in the hands of the postal
+authorities, but would they, she wondered, concern themselves with
+threats delivered in other ways than by mail? This second message had
+not come through any such channels. In desperation she put on her hat,
+placed the two letters in her handbag and set out to seek the advice of
+one of her oldest and best friends.
+
+Her purpose took her to a private banking house in Broad Street, upon
+the wide entrance doors of which was inscribed the name John Stapleton &
+Co. She asked to see Mr. Stapleton. John Stapleton was a man of wealth
+and influence in the financial world, and Mrs. Morton's husband had at
+one time been one of his most trusted employees. Now that Ruth had
+become to some extent a capitalist, it was to Mr. Stapleton that the
+care of her savings had been entrusted. Mrs. Morton felt the utmost
+confidence in both his sincerity and his judgment.
+
+Mr. Stapleton received her almost at once, in his simply yet richly
+furnished private office, and rising from his huge flat-topped rosewood
+desk, welcomed her warmly, and asked what he could do for her.
+
+Mrs. Morton felt confused. Her mission seemed, after all, a strange one
+with which to come to a leader of finance.
+
+"I--I am in great trouble, Mr. Stapleton," she began.
+
+"Yes?" He took her hand in his and led her to a chair. "Tell me all
+about it."
+
+Mrs. Morton explained the circumstances surrounding the receiving of the
+two letters in detail, and then handed the documents to Mr. Stapleton.
+
+"Do you think I had better place the matter in the hands of the postal
+authorities?" she said. Mr. Stapleton examined the two letters carefully
+then he shook his head.
+
+"No. At least not at present. It seems to me that your daughter may be
+in grave danger, and under those circumstances, I think your wisest
+course would be to employ a private detective, an investigator of
+matters of this character, not only to ferret out those who are
+responsible for these threats, but to take steps to protect your
+daughter from harm."
+
+"You think, then, that she is really in danger?" Mrs. Morton gasped.
+
+"I do not wish to alarm you, but I very much fear that she is."
+
+"But I don't know any private detectives," Mrs. Morton began.
+
+Stapleton looked up from the letter.
+
+"When I spoke," he said, "I had a certain man in mind. He is not a
+detective, in the usual sense of the word. You can find plenty of those,
+of course, but, while they are useful enough in the detection of
+criminals of the ordinary sort, they would probably have very little
+success in an affair such as this. The man I had in mind is a brilliant
+criminal investigator, one whose services I have more than once been
+obliged to make use of in matters of a personal nature. Some two years
+ago, for instance, my child was kidnapped, in Paris, and held for
+ransom. The entire police force of the French capital seemed powerless
+to discover his whereabouts. At last I called in Richard Duvall, and
+within a few days my boy was returned to me, and the criminals who had
+abducted him placed under arrest. It was a marvellous, a brilliant piece
+of work. I am not likely to forget very soon the mystery of the changing
+lights." He paused, and Mrs. Morton spoke up eagerly.
+
+"Give me Mr. Duvall's address," she said, "and I will see him at once."
+
+"That," Mr. Stapleton smiled, "is, of course, the great difficulty.
+Duvall, who is married, lives with his wife on their farm near
+Washington. They both have plenty of money, and he has practically
+retired from professional work."
+
+"Then of what use is it to suggest his name?" asked Mrs. Morton,
+quickly.
+
+"He had already retired," Stapleton rejoined, "at the time of my boy's
+kidnapping, but I prevailed on him to take up the case. His retirement
+merely means that he is not in the active practice of his profession.
+But exceptional cases, cases which by reason of their novelty interest
+him, he may be persuaded to undertake. I fancy this matter of your
+daughter's would prove attractive to him. It is unusual--bizarre. I
+strongly advise you to see him."
+
+"To do that, I must go to Washington?"
+
+"Yes. I will give you a letter which will insure you an interview, and,
+I hope, enlist his services in your behalf." He pressed a button on his
+desk, summoning a stenographer. "I sincerely hope that you will be
+successful."
+
+Mrs. Morton sat in silence while the letter of introduction to Richard
+Duvall was being written. Then she rose to go.
+
+"I will leave for Washington this afternoon," she announced. "I feel
+that there is no time to waste."
+
+"You are quite right. And be sure to tell Mr. Duvall that you are a
+close personal friend of mine, and that anything he can do for you I
+shall appreciate to the utmost."
+
+Mrs. Morton went back to the apartment, and made her preparations to
+start. She determined to take a train leaving at half past three, and as
+Ruth would not return from the studio until later, she called her up on
+the telephone, and told her of her sudden determination.
+
+"It is a matter of business, dear," she explained. "I will be back
+to-morrow. Good-by." The girl's cheerful voice reassured her. At least
+nothing had happened up to now, to give cause for alarm.
+
+It was only when Mrs. Morton was about to leave for the train that her
+nerves were once more subjected to a severe shock.
+
+The telephone bell rang, and she went to answer it, thinking that Ruth
+might for some reason have called her up.
+
+Over the wire came a thin, queer voice.
+
+"Beauty is only skin deep," it said. "A breath may destroy it." After
+that, silence.
+
+Mrs. Morton made a frantic effort to learn the number of the station
+from which she had been called, but without success. In a rather
+depressed state of mind, she made her way to the train.
+
+It was half past eight at night when she arrived in Washington, and she
+at once called up Richard Duvall on the telephone.
+
+To her disappointment, she learned that he was out, and was not expected
+back until late. There was nothing to do but wait until morning. She
+retired to her room, full of hope that the following day would bring an
+end to her fears.
+
+Immediately after breakfast she called again, and this time was more
+successful. Duvall himself answered the telephone.
+
+"I am Mrs. Morton, from New York," she said, eagerly. "I would like to
+come out and see you."
+
+"What do you wish to see me about?" the detective inquired.
+
+"It is a personal matter. I will explain when I arrive. I prefer not to
+do so over the telephone. I have a letter to you from Mr. Stapleton."
+
+"Mr. John Stapleton, the banker?"
+
+"Yes."
+
+"Come, then, by all means, at any hour that suits you. Mr. Stapleton is
+one of my best friends."
+
+Mrs. Morton hung up the receiver, after assuring him that she would
+start at once. Then she went out and engaging an automobile, set out for
+Duvall's place.
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER III
+
+
+Richard Duvall and his wife, Grace, lingered rather later than usual
+over their breakfast that morning.
+
+It was a warm and brilliant day in May, and the blossoming beauty of the
+spring filled them both with a delightful sense of well-being.
+
+Duvall, however, seemed a trifle restless, and Grace observed it.
+
+"What's the matter, Richard?" she asked.
+
+"Oh, nothing." Her husband picked up the morning paper. "They are still
+looking for the woman in that Marsden case, I see," he remarked.
+
+"Do you know, my dear," Grace said, "I sometimes think that you made a
+mistake in coming down here to the country to live. Your heart is really
+in New York, and every time there is a murder case, or a bank robbery,
+or a kidnapping up there, you are restless as a hen on a hot griddle
+until the mystery is solved. Why don't you take up your professional
+work again?" Duvall laid down his paper and regarded his wife with a
+look of surprise.
+
+"Because, Grace," he said, "you especially asked me, after that affair
+of the missing suffragette, to finally give up my detective work and
+content myself with a quiet existence here on the farm. You said, on
+account of the boy, that I ought not to take such risks."
+
+"Well--suppose I did. You agreed with me, didn't you?"
+
+"Yes--I guess so." Duvall once more picked up the newspaper. "But,
+naturally, I can't help feeling a certain interest in any striking and
+novel case that I may read about."
+
+"And I haven't a doubt," laughed Grace, "that you wish that you were
+back in harness again a dozen times a day. Come now--'fess up. Don't
+you?"
+
+"Sometimes," granted her husband, with a smile. "You know I loved my
+work. It always seemed to take me out of the dull routine of existence,
+and give me a new feeling of interest. I shouldn't mind if I had a novel
+and interesting case to work on right now."
+
+"Would you take one, if it were offered to you?" asked Grace quickly.
+
+"No--I guess not. I haven't forgotten my promise."
+
+"Well--I've decided to release you from that, Richard. I really think
+you need a little mental exercise and diversion. All play and no work,
+you know----" She began to arrange the dogwood blossoms she had gathered
+before breakfast, in a big vase on the table.
+
+Duvall laughed.
+
+"I'm getting along very well," he said. "Don't forget I'm expecting to
+have that corner lot planted in potatoes to-day." He rose, and coming
+over to his wife, playfully pinched her cheek. "What's the matter,
+dear?" he asked. "Are you pining for a little trip to New York yourself?
+We don't need a murder mystery to make that possible, you know."
+
+Grace shook her head. As she did so, the telephone bell in the hall
+began to ring. "That may be your murder mystery now," she said, with a
+laugh.
+
+"More likely the Clarks asking us over to dinner this evening," he
+returned, as he made his way into the hall.
+
+Grace continued to arrange her flowers. Presently Duvall re-entered the
+room. There was a curious smile upon his face. "Well," Grace remarked,
+glancing up. "Which was it? The murder case, or the Clarks?"
+
+"Neither. A mysterious woman, this time, saying that she must see me at
+once. I told her to come on out."
+
+"Ah! This _is_ serious," his wife laughed. "A mysterious woman! I
+suppose I ought to be jealous. Didn't she say what she wanted with you?"
+
+"No. But we'll know soon enough. She'll be here at half past nine.
+Suppose we go and take a look at those Airedale pups." Together they
+crossed the veranda and made their way toward the barn.
+
+Richard Duvall had changed but little since the days when he had served
+on the staff of Monsieur Lefevre, the Prefect of Police of Paris, and
+had taken part in the stirring adventures of the Million Francs, the
+Ivory Snuff Box and the Changing Lights. The same delightful spirit of
+_camaraderie_ existed between his wife, Grace, and himself, a spirit
+which had enabled them, together, to solve some of the most exciting
+mysteries in the annals of the French detective service. It had been
+nearly two years, now, since the affair of the Mysterious Goddess, the
+last case in which Duvall had been concerned, and he was beginning to
+feel that he would welcome with outstretched arms a chance to make use
+once more of his exceptional talents as an investigator of crime. Hence
+he had received Mrs. Morton's telephone call with more than ordinary
+interest.
+
+The latter had told him nothing of her reasons for interviewing him,
+contenting herself with the bare statement that she had a letter to him
+from Mr. Stapleton. This, however, had been enough to set Duvall's
+nerves to tingling and to cause him to conclude that the mysterious
+woman who desired to interview him in such a hurry came on no ordinary
+business. Hence he waited with some impatience for the arrival of half
+past nine.
+
+A few moments after the half hour, a large automobile swept up the
+drive, and Duvall, with a nod to his wife, went back to the house to
+receive his guest. She was waiting in the library when he entered.
+
+"I am Mrs. Morton, of New York," his caller began, handing him Mr.
+Stapleton's letter.
+
+Duvall read it, but it told him little.
+
+"Mr. Stapleton informs me," he said, looking at his visitor, "that you
+are in some difficulty or other, and asks that, if I can possibly do so,
+I try to help you out of it. Did he not also say that I have for some
+time past given up the active practice of my profession?"
+
+Mrs. Morton nodded, then bent eagerly forward.
+
+"Yes, Mr. Duvall. He told me that. But he also said that, when you heard
+the circumstances, you might be persuaded to assist me. I am in very
+deep trouble, and I fear that there is not a moment to be lost."
+
+"What is the nature of your difficulty, madam?" Duvall asked.
+
+"It--it concerns my daughter. I am the mother of Ruth Morton." She made
+this announcement as though she fully expected Duvall to realize its
+significance at once, but the latter's face remained quite blank.
+
+"Yes?" he replied, vaguely. "And who is Ruth Morton?"
+
+Mrs. Morton looked at him in pained surprise. The thought that anyone
+could possibly be ignorant of her daughter's fame and success seemed
+unbelievable to her. Was not Ruth's name a household word among moving
+picture "fans" from coast to coast? "Why--Ruth Morton--the motion
+picture star," she replied. "Surely you must have heard of her."
+
+Duvall smiled, but shook his head.
+
+"I never go to motion pictures," he said. "But that is of no importance.
+What has happened to your daughter?"
+
+"Nothing. At least I hope not--yet. It is what _may_ happen to her that
+frightens me so." She took the two threatening letters from her handbag
+and gave them to the detective. "These came yesterday," she said,
+simply.
+
+Duvall took the letters, and proceeded to read them with the utmost
+care. When he looked up, his eyes were sparkling with interest.
+
+"The first letter, I observe," he said, "was mailed night before last,
+at half-past six, at the general post office. How was the other letter
+delivered?"
+
+"I do not know. I found it, yesterday forenoon, upon the floor in my
+daughter's bedroom, an hour or more after she had left the house. She
+has not seen it. I kept all news of it from her, as I did not wish her
+to be frightened."
+
+"That was wise, of course," Duvall said. "But how could the letter
+possibly have been placed where you found it, without your knowledge?
+Who, beside yourself, was in the apartment at the time?"
+
+"No one but an old negro cook, who has been with me for years. I am
+quite certain that she had nothing to do with it."
+
+"And the maid of whom you speak?"
+
+"She had left my daughter's room, and come into the dining room, where I
+was sitting, before Ruth left the bedroom. They went out together. The
+note could not have been in the bedroom then, or my daughter would
+certainly have seen it. The thing seems almost uncanny."
+
+Duvall began to stroke his chin, a habit with him when he was more than
+usually perplexed. Presently he spoke.
+
+"One thing I have learned, Mrs. Morton, after many years spent in
+detective work. There is no circumstance, however mystifying it may at
+first appear, which is not susceptible of some reasonable and often very
+commonplace explanation. You find this letter on the floor in your
+daughter's bedroom. It was placed there, either by someone within the
+apartment, or by someone from without. Now you tell me that it could not
+have been placed from within. Then I can only say that someone must have
+entered the room, or at least managed to place the letter in the room,
+from outside."
+
+"That may be true, Mr. Duvall," remarked Mrs. Morton, quietly, "but when
+you consider that our apartment is on the fourth floor, that one of the
+windows of the room was closed, and the other only open a few inches,
+and that the blank wall of the opposite house is at least ten feet away,
+I fail to see how what you suggest is possible."
+
+Her words filled Duvall with surprise. If what his caller said was true,
+the case might have elements which would make it more than usually
+interesting.
+
+"Has your daughter any enemy, who might envy her her success, and wish
+to deprive her of it?" he asked.
+
+"None, that I know of. But since these two letters came, I feel
+convinced that someone, whom, I cannot imagine, _does_ feel that way
+toward her, and that on account of it she is in the gravest danger.
+Don't you think so, Mr. Duvall?"
+
+"I think it highly probable. And what, Mrs. Morton, would you like to
+have me do in the matter?"
+
+"Why--come to New York, take up the case, and find out who these
+wretches are, so that they may be prevented from doing my daughter any
+harm. There is no time to lose. They may carry out their threats at any
+moment. You will observe that in the first letter they said that her
+beauty would be destroyed '_within thirty days_.' One of those days has
+already passed. To-day is the second. At most, we have but twenty-eight
+days left in which to find out who is responsible for this outrage.
+Investigation may consume a great deal of time. I hope that you will
+consent to come to New York and take charge of the matter at once. I am
+returning this afternoon, as soon as I can get a train. Can you not
+return with me? As for the matter of expense, I place no limit upon it.
+There is nothing I would not sacrifice, to save my daughter from the
+fate they have threatened. Think what it would mean, Mr. Duvall. A
+young, beautiful, innocent girl, scarcely more than a child, to go
+through life with her beauty taken from her, made hideous by some
+fiendish device, blinded and scarred by acid, her features
+crushed--gashed by some sudden blow. Can you imagine anything more
+terrible?"
+
+Duvall thought for moment of his own lovely child, now almost three
+years old, and shuddered. Bank burglaries, thefts of jewels, seemed
+relatively of small importance compared with such a situation as this.
+His feelings of chivalry rose. He felt a strong desire to help this
+young girl.
+
+"Here is her picture," Mrs. Morton continued, taking a photograph from
+her handbag and extending it to Duvall.
+
+The latter gazed at the charming features of the young actress, and
+nodded.
+
+"She is lovely--exquisite," he murmured. "I don't wonder you feel as you
+do. I did not intend to take up any detective work at this time, but I
+have decided to assist you in this matter in any way that I can."
+
+"Oh--thank you, Mr. Duvall." There were tears in Mrs. Morton's anxious
+eyes. "I can never repay you for your kindness--never. But if you can
+save Ruth from these scoundrels, I will gladly spend----"
+
+"Never mind about that, Mrs. Morton," Duvall observed, with a friendly
+smile. "It is scarcely a question of money with me. If I had not felt a
+keen interest in your daughter's welfare, I should not have agreed to
+take up the matter at all. As it is, you need not worry about the
+expense. I am going to take the case largely because it has interested
+me, and it will be a pleasure to work it out, not only on your
+daughter's account, but on my own. You know, to me, such matters are of
+absorbing interest, like the solving of some complex and baffling
+puzzle."
+
+"Then you will go back to New York with me this evening?"
+
+"I can hardly do that, Mrs. Morton. But I can agree to call on you there
+to-morrow. It will take me some hours to arrange matters here so that I
+can leave. I do not think you need worry for a few days at least. If
+these people had meant to act at once they would not have named the
+period of thirty days in their threats."
+
+"Very well." Mrs. Morton rose, and held out her hand. "I will expect you
+to-morrow. Will it be in the morning?"
+
+"Very likely. In any event, I will first telephone to you." He entered
+the address in his notebook. "By the way, perhaps you had better let me
+keep that photograph."
+
+"Certainly." Mrs. Morton handed it to him, and he thrust it into his
+pocket. "The letters you already have?"
+
+"Yes."
+
+"Is there anything else?"
+
+"Yes. One thing. Do not tell your daughter that you have employed me in
+this case. It--it might alarm her."
+
+"Certainly not. And that leads me to say that you, on your part, will of
+course observe the utmost secrecy. Even with Mrs. Duvall."
+
+"That goes without saying, madam. My professional secrets I share with
+no one. Even between my wife and myself there is an unwritten law which
+is never broken. Unless we are working on a case together--unless she
+can be of service to me, she asks no questions. She would not speak to
+me, or even recognize me, were we to meet, while I am engaged in work of
+this sort. You need have no fear on that score."
+
+"I am very glad to know that. Were these people to suspect that I have
+placed the matter in the hands of a detective, they would be instantly
+on their guard, and all means of tracing them might be lost."
+
+"That is undoubtedly true, and for that reason, I may appear in other
+characters than my own, from time to time, disguised perhaps, in such a
+way that even you would not recognize me. Under those circumstances I
+will suggest a password--one that will not be known to anyone else.
+Should occasion arise in which I desire to acquaint you with my
+identity, without making it known to others, I will merely repeat the
+words--twenty-eight days, or twenty-seven or six or five, as the case
+may be, on that particular day, and you will know that it is I, and act
+accordingly. Is that perfectly clear?"
+
+"Perfectly, Mr. Duvall."
+
+"Very well. Then we will leave further details until to-morrow." He
+shook hands with his caller, escorted her to her automobile, then
+returned to the library and began a careful study of the two notes which
+Mrs. Morton had left with him. Here Grace found him, half an hour later.
+
+"Well," she said, coming up to him with a smile. "Shall I begin to pack
+our things?"
+
+Duvall put his arm about her.
+
+"Yes, dear," he said. "We'll leave on the sleeper to-night. You can get
+Mrs. Preston to come and take charge of the house while we are gone. It
+may be two weeks. That is, if you want to go along."
+
+"Want to go along? Why, Richard, I'm just dying for a trip to New York.
+I haven't been there since before Christmas, as you know, and I've got
+to get a spring outfit. Of course I'm going." She went gayly toward the
+hall stairs.
+
+"Then you must be ready right after lunch," he called after her.
+
+"But why so soon, if we are taking the sleeper?"
+
+"Because we are going up to town this afternoon and see a few moving
+pictures."
+
+"Moving pictures?" Grace paused at the door, an expression of the utmost
+astonishment upon her face. "Why, Dick, you never go to moving pictures.
+You've always said they didn't interest you."
+
+"We're going, just the same."
+
+"What's come over you?" Grace asked.
+
+"Nothing. I'm curious to see some of them, that's all. Never too old to
+learn, you know. If I am not mistaken, I saw a new feature film
+advertised in the newspaper this morning." He took a paper from the desk
+and glanced through it. "Here it is. Ruth Morton, in _The Miser's
+Daughter_. Have you seen it?"
+
+"No. But I've seen Miss Morton often--in pictures, I mean. She's a
+lovely creature, and a splendid actress, too."
+
+"Then this film ought to be a good one, don't you think?"
+
+Grace burst into a rippling laugh.
+
+"You're getting positively human, Richard," she exclaimed. "Here I've
+been telling you for months past what a lot you've been missing, and you
+only made fun of me, and now you actually suggest going yourself. Was
+the lady who called interested in the motion picture business?"
+
+Duvall laughed, but made no reply.
+
+"What's the mystery?" Grace went on, with an amused smile. "You haven't
+told me, you know. Has she lost her jewels, or only her husband?"
+
+Duvall raised his hand.
+
+"No questions, my dear. This is a professional matter. But I don't mind
+telling you this much, if I ever become a motion picture 'fan,' you'll
+have her to thank for it."
+
+"Really. Then I'm glad she came. I hate going alone. And it seems I
+shall also have to thank her for a trip to New York. She has my eternal
+gratitude. Now I'm going up to pack."
+
+Duvall resumed his seat, and once more took up his examination of the
+letters Mrs. Morton had left with him, but they told him little. There
+were the usual individual peculiarities in the typewritten characters,
+but that was about all he could discover. The letter paper, while of
+excellent quality, was such as might be bought at any first-class
+stationery store. The death's head seal, of course, was highly
+individual, but to trace anyone by means of it presented almost
+insuperable difficulties. To find the seal, one must of necessity first
+find its owner, and then the chase would be over. He replaced the
+letters in his pocket book, and went to his room to make ready for their
+journey.
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER IV
+
+
+Mrs. Morton returned to New York that afternoon, greatly pleased with
+the results of her trip. That she had been able to enlist the services
+of Richard Duvall gave her a sense of security. She found Ruth at home,
+safe and well, with no further threats or warnings to disturb her peace
+of mind. The girl was absorbed in her new role. The picture promised to
+be the most successful of her career.
+
+The following morning Mrs. Morton rose early, in order to go through the
+mail before Ruth had an opportunity to do so. The shock caused by the
+first threatening letter had passed from the girl's mind. The second she
+knew nothing of. Mrs. Morton was determined that if any more arrived,
+she should not see those either.
+
+Trembling with eagerness she opened the pile of letters, but found
+nothing. With a sigh of relief she turned away. Perhaps, after all she
+had exaggerated the importance of the matter. Half an hour later, while
+Ruth was eating her breakfast, a messenger boy arrived with a telegram,
+addressed to Miss Ruth Morton. The maid, seeing no reason to do
+otherwise, brought it to the girl as she sat at the table. Mrs. Morton,
+who had been at the rear of the apartment, hurried in as she heard the
+sound of the doorbell, but by the time she had reached the dining room,
+Ruth had already opened and read the message. She sat staring at a bit
+of yellow paper, her face pale and drawn.
+
+"What is it, dear?" Mrs. Morton cried, hurrying to her side.
+
+Ruth picked up the telegram and handed it to her mother.
+
+"Another threat," she said, quietly. "These people, whoever they are,
+seem to be in deadly earnest."
+
+Mrs. Morton took the telegram and hurriedly read it.
+
+"Even the beauty of the rose," the message said, "cannot endure for
+twenty-seven days." There was no signature to the telegram.
+
+A look of the deepest apprehension crept into Mrs. Morton's eyes, but
+she turned away, so that Ruth might not realize her fears.
+
+"Pay no attention to the matter, Ruth," she said, in tones suddenly
+grown a trifle unsteady. "It is certainly nothing more than a stupid
+joke."
+
+"Well, mother, of course you may be right, but for my part, I have a
+feeling that it isn't a joke at all, but a real and very terrible
+threat. What is to prevent these people, whoever they are, from
+attacking me--sending me some infernal machine in the disguise of a box
+or package, which, as soon as I open it, might burn or blind or
+otherwise disfigure me so that my life would be ruined?" She rose and
+glanced at herself in the mirror which hung over the mantel. Already
+there were deep circles of anxiety beneath her eyes, while the lines of
+her face, usually sweet and placid, were now those of an anxious and
+frightened woman. The first threat had upset her far more than her
+mother had realized. The one just received had intensified the effect a
+hundredfold.
+
+"But you mustn't open any packages, my child. Be very careful about
+that. And Robert must not stop the car, under any circumstances, in
+going to or from the studio. There, at least, I believe you are quite
+safe. I will have a talk with Mr. Edwards to-day, and explain matters to
+him. And here you cannot possibly be in any danger. Meanwhile, in spite
+of what you say, I still beg you not to let this matter prey upon your
+mind. I cannot, will not, take it seriously." Poor Mrs. Morton, herself
+thoroughly frightened, strove with all her might to convince Ruth that
+she had nothing to fear. She knew the girl's intense, high-strung
+nature, and feared that constant worry, ceaseless anxiety, might readily
+so work upon her as to reduce her to a nervous wreck long before the
+expiration of the thirty days named in the first threatening letter. She
+found herself wishing devoutly that Duvall would appear.
+
+As she finished speaking there came a ring at the doorbell, and Nora
+started to answer it. Mrs. Morton stopped her.
+
+"Nora," she said. "Listen to me. You are not, under any circumstances,
+to admit anyone--no matter who it is--until I have first seen and talked
+with them. Do you understand?"
+
+"Yes, ma'am. I understand," replied the girl, as she went out into the
+hall.
+
+A moment later Mrs. Morton, hearing a man's voice, hurried after her.
+Nora, with the door but slightly open, was speaking with a rough-looking
+fellow, a workman, apparently, who stood in the hallway outside. He was
+a man of thirty-five, with a reddish moustache, wearing working clothes
+and a cap. This he removed, as Mrs. Morton came to the door.
+
+"Is this Mrs. Morton's apartment?" he asked.
+
+"Yes. What do you want?" Mrs. Morton's voice and manner were far from
+encouraging.
+
+"There seems to be a leak in the plumbing somewhere on this floor," the
+man went on. "There's trouble with the ceilings in the apartment below.
+The superintendent wants me to go over the connections and see that
+everything is all right." He lifted a canvas bag containing his tools
+from the floor, and made as though to enter. Mrs. Morton, however, did
+not open the door any wider.
+
+"You can't come in now," she said. "Come back later--in an hour. My
+daughter is not dressed yet." She seemed ready to close the door
+entirely, but the man again spoke.
+
+"Can't afford to wait, ma'am," he said, with a significant smile. "I got
+every apartment in this building to go over before the end of the month,
+and there are _only twenty-seven days left_." He emphasized his
+concluding words, at the same time looking Mrs. Morton squarely in the
+eye. The words, the man's look, brought sudden recognition. Mrs. Morton
+drew open the door.
+
+"Very well," she said. "Come in." She realized that the supposed workman
+was no other than Duvall.
+
+The latter went quietly toward the kitchen at the rear of the apartment,
+and occupied himself by examining the connections of the sink. He seemed
+to work slowly, unconcernedly, whistling softly to himself as he moved
+about. His eyes, however, were very bright and keen, and no detail of
+the room, the negro cook who occupied it, or the buildings in the rear,
+escaped his attention.
+
+Mrs. Morton came back presently and addressed him.
+
+"My daughter has gone, now," she said. "You may look over the plumbing
+in the bathroom whenever you are ready."
+
+With a nod Duvall picked up his tools and followed her to the front of
+the apartment. As they left the kitchen, Mrs. Morton closed the door
+leading from it to the hall.
+
+"I want you to stay here for the next hour, Sarah," she said, as she
+left the kitchen. "If anyone rings, I will answer the bell." A moment
+later she and Duvall were in the library.
+
+The latter pretended to be busy inspecting the connections of the hot
+water radiator.
+
+"Have you received any more threats?" he asked, in a low voice, without
+turning his head.
+
+Mrs. Morton took the telegram that Ruth had received a short time
+before, and placed it in his hand.
+
+"This came half an hour ago," she said, without further comment.
+
+Duvall read it, then thrust it into his pocket.
+
+"Did your daughter see it?" he asked.
+
+"Yes. It had been delivered to her before I could prevent it."
+
+"That is too bad. Was she much upset?"
+
+"Yes. The thing is beginning to get on her nerves."
+
+Duvall rose, and placed his tools in the kit.
+
+"Please take me to your daughter's bedroom," he said. Mrs. Morton led
+the way.
+
+The room was a fairly large one, situated in an ell at the rear of the
+building. Of its two windows, one, as has already been pointed out,
+overlooked the court between the apartment building and the house next
+door. The other faced toward the rear. Duvall placed his kit of tools
+upon the floor, and began an examination of the room. After a quick
+glance about, he turned to Mrs. Morton.
+
+"Where was the letter found--the one that did not come through the
+mails?"
+
+"Here." Mrs. Morton indicated a spot on the floor near the small
+enameled dressing table that stood against the east wall of the room.
+Its position was midway between the two windows. It was clear that
+whoever had entered the room might have done so through either of the
+windows; at least, the position in which the dressing table stood
+afforded no indication as to which one it might have been.
+
+"Which of the two windows was open, when you found the letter?" Duvall
+asked.
+
+Mrs. Morton indicated the one facing the court.
+
+"This one," she said. "Not wide open. Perhaps six or eight inches."
+
+"The other was not fastened, I suppose?"
+
+"No. Ruth always keeps it raised during the night, but usually closes it
+while dressing."
+
+Duvall went to the window, and opened it. It was well balanced and moved
+easily.
+
+"Anyone coming up by way of the fire escape could, of course, have
+raised the window from the outside, and closed it again after leaving
+the room," he said, more to himself than to Mrs. Morton. Then he got out
+on the fire escape and made a careful examination of its surface.
+
+"When was this ironwork painted?" he asked Mrs. Morton, through the
+window.
+
+"About ten days ago."
+
+"H--m." Duvall examined the newly painted iron surface with rather a
+blank expression. That anyone had walked upon it since it had received
+its newly applied coat was, he felt, out of the question. The paint was
+so new, so shiny, so yielding in its fresh glossiness that, even
+treading as lightly as he could, the marks of his shoes were plainly
+visible. He leaned over and pressed the palm of his hand upon the grated
+iron floor. The pressure of his hand was sufficient to dull the freshly
+painted surface. It seemed impossible that anyone, even in bare or
+stockinged feet, could have been upon the fire escape, without having
+left tell-tale marks upon it. He re-entered the room, and turned his
+attention to the other window.
+
+Here the opportunities for entrance seemed even more unfavorable. The
+window was situated on the fourth floor. There was still another floor
+above, with a window similarly located. Anyone might, of course, have
+been lowered from this window above, to the sill of the one at which he
+now stood, and entered the room in that way. He examined with care the
+white woodwork of the window sill, also freshly painted. It showed no
+marks. This, of course, was not conclusive. He determined to investigate
+the occupants of the apartment on the top floor.
+
+The wall of the brownstone dwelling house next door, which formed the
+east side of the narrow court, was of brick, covered with ivy. There
+were no windows in it whatever. Apparently it had once adjoined the wall
+of a similar house, where the apartment building now stood, and when the
+second house had been torn down to make way for the new building, the
+partition wall had remained as originally built, without windows.
+
+Duvall examined this house next door with a great deal of interest. It
+was four stories high, with an attic, and rose to almost the same height
+as the fifth floor of the apartment house, owing, no doubt, to its
+ceilings being somewhat higher. In the sloping roof of the attic were
+three small dormer windows, facing the court, but the nearest one was
+perhaps twenty feet from the window of Ruth's room, in a horizontal
+direction, and some eight or ten feet above it. There was no way in
+which anyone could have passed from the attic window to that of Ruth's
+room, even supposing such a person to be an expert climber. Anyone
+lowered from this window by means of a rope would merely have found
+himself hanging against a bare brick wall, twenty feet from the window
+of the girl's room. Duvall, accompanied by Mrs. Morton, made his way
+back to the library.
+
+"You feel quite certain about the cook?" he asked.
+
+"Sarah?" Mrs. Morton smiled. "What do you think? You've seen her."
+
+"She certainly appears to be above suspicion," Duvall replied. "But one
+can never be sure. Suppose you send her out on some errand. I should
+like to search her room."
+
+Mrs. Morton left him for a few moments, and presently the old colored
+woman passed down the hall and left the apartment. Then Duvall,
+accompanied by Mrs. Morton, made a thorough examination of the woman's
+room.
+
+His search disclosed nothing of interest, nor was a similar search of
+the room of Nora, the maid, productive of anything that could in any way
+connect her with the mysterious warnings. There remained only the
+occupants of the fifth floor apartment. Duvall requested Mrs. Morton to
+summon the janitor of the building, and explain to him, in a guarded
+way, that he wished to ask him certain questions.
+
+The janitor proved to be a good-natured fellow, who seemed extremely
+anxious to please Mrs. Morton in every possible way. In answer to a
+question from the latter, he said that the apartment on the top floor
+was vacant, and had been vacant for nearly two months.
+
+The family that had occupied it, he explained, had moved away, and had
+requested the management of the building to sublet it. This they had not
+yet succeeded in doing.
+
+"May I go up and look it over?" Duvall asked.
+
+"Sure you may," the janitor replied, and he and Duvall went to the
+elevator, leaving Mrs. Morton waiting in the library.
+
+The apartment on the top floor had been newly done over, and smelt of
+fresh varnish and paint. The shiny floors had scarcely been walked upon,
+since they had been refinished. The air was close and warm, by reason of
+the tightly closed windows. Duvall proceeded at once to the room
+directly over Ruth's bedroom.
+
+To his disappointment the two windows were not only closed and fastened,
+but so tightly stuck on account of the fresh paint that it required the
+combined efforts of the janitor and himself to open them. That they had
+been opened, since the painting had been done, some ten days before, was
+clearly out of the question. Duvall made up his mind at once that
+however the person who had placed the mysterious message in Ruth's room
+had effected his or her entrance, it had not been by way of the
+apartment on the top floor.
+
+Somewhat disappointed, he went to the floor below, and thanking the
+janitor for his kindness, rejoined Mrs. Morton.
+
+"What have you discovered, Mr. Duvall?" the latter asked, eagerly.
+
+"Nothing, so far. I confess the thing is somewhat of a puzzle."
+
+"Someone _must_ have been in Ruth's room."
+
+"Not necessarily."
+
+"But--why not?"
+
+"You will remember that you found the letter on the floor. That would
+seem to me to indicate rather the opposite. If anyone had actually been
+_in_ the room, they would have been far more apt to place the message on
+the dressing table. That it was found upon the floor indicates to my
+mind that it was in some way inserted--thrown, perhaps--through the
+window from without." He took the letter in question from his pocket,
+and sitting down, gazed intently at the surface of the envelope.
+Presently he passed it over to Mrs. Morton. "What do you make of that?"
+he said, indicating with his finger a curious row of indentations,
+extending in a semi-circular line about midway of one of the longer
+edges of the envelope.
+
+The marks were very faint, but by turning the letter about in the light,
+Mrs. Morton at last managed to make them out. What they were, how they
+had been placed there Duvall could not say. Yet their presence indicated
+something of value, of that he felt sure.
+
+"I don't understand them at all," Mrs. Morton replied, returning the
+letter to him. "It looks as though someone had held the letter in a--a
+pair of pincers."
+
+The suggestion conveyed by her words interested Duvall greatly. The same
+thought had been forming in his own mind.
+
+He rose to his feet, his eyes shining with interest. Why could not such
+a pair of pincers or forceps have been attached to a long pole, such as
+a fishing rod, and the letter in this way pushed through the window and
+released by pulling on a cord attached to one of the forceps' handles?
+The thing was perfectly practical, except for the fact that there seemed
+no place from which such a pole or rod might have been extended. He
+gazed out of the library window, across the court to the row of dormer
+windows in the house opposite. The distance from the nearest of them, to
+Ruth's window was, as he had before observed, at least twenty feet
+horizontally, or some twenty-three feet on the diagonal. Then there was
+the distance from the window to the dressing table, at least eight feet
+more, to be added, making necessary a rod over thirty feet long. And he
+saw at a glance that even could a rod of this length be secured and
+handled, the angle made by a line from the dormer window through Ruth's
+window was such that the end of the rod or pole would strike the floor
+only a few feet beyond the windowsill, and in no possible way could its
+further end be elevated sufficiently to deposit the letter in front of
+the dressing table. The thing was manifestly out of the question, even
+had the window of the girl's room been _wide open_. And Mrs. Morton had
+assured him with the greatest positiveness that it had been open, at the
+time the letter was found, _but a few inches_. He returned the letters
+to his pocket and rose.
+
+"The thing is astonishing--remarkable," he said to Mrs. Morton, who was
+regarding him intently. "I confess that so far I am quite in the dark. I
+feel sure that whoever entered the room, or left the message, must have
+done so by means of the fire-escape, and yet, how was it possible,
+without marks having been left upon the paint? I think I shall make
+another and even more careful examination, in the hope that some slight
+clues may have escaped me." He once more made his way toward the girl's
+room, followed by Mrs. Morton.
+
+The room was precisely as they had left it. The window facing to the
+rear was wide open, Duvall having omitted to close it after his
+examination of the fire escape. The window fronting on the court was
+raised perhaps six inches. And yet, to the utter amazement of them both,
+there lay on the floor of the room, near its center, a square white
+envelope, addressed in typewriting to Ruth Morton.
+
+Duvall sprang forward and seized it with an exclamation of astonishment.
+It bore the same seal, in the same black wax, and upon it was the same
+semi-circular row of indentations. He tore the letter open. Its
+typewritten message was brief but significant. "Only twenty-seven days
+more," it read. The grinning death's head seal seemed to Duvall's
+astonished eyes even more terrifying than before.
+
+With a bound he reached the rear window, and swung himself upon the fire
+escape. There was no one in sight. The gray surface of the ironwork
+showed not the slightest scratch, save those made by his own heels
+earlier in the day. The steps of the ladder leading up to the next floor
+were glistening, immaculate. Those of the one to the floor below were
+equally so. He re-entered the room, and going to the opposite window,
+threw it wide open. The three dormer windows of the adjoining house were
+gray, dusty, as though they had not been opened for years. He turned to
+his companion with a look of amazement.
+
+"In all my experience, Mrs. Morton," he said, "I do not think that I
+have ever encountered anything quite so astonishing. That letter must
+have been placed there while I was in the apartment above. Your cook,
+your maid, are out. Certainly you did not place it there yourself. And
+yet we know that someone has been in this room, or at least delivered
+the letter, during the past fifteen minutes. Had I not found it here
+myself, I should have been almost tempted to disbelieve it, but I am
+forced to admit its truth."
+
+Mrs. Morton stood wringing her hands.
+
+"It--it seems almost supernatural," she exclaimed. "Poor Ruth. What are
+we to do?"
+
+"There is nothing supernatural about the matter, madam," Duvall
+remarked. "I don't doubt the explanation is simple enough, could we but
+hit upon it. But so far I confess I am unable to understand it." He went
+over to the wall which adjoined that of the house next door, and sounded
+it, inch by inch, with a small hammer he took from his bag of tools. The
+operation required several minutes. When he had completed it, he tossed
+the hammer back into his kit in disgust. "Brick, of course," he said,
+"and perfectly solid." He turned toward the door. "What are you going to
+do now?" Mrs. Morton asked.
+
+"Try to find out something through this telegram. And also, investigate
+the house next door."
+
+"But, you will come back? I am afraid."
+
+"I shall be at your call at all times, Mrs. Morton. If anything of
+interest occurs, notify me here." He drew a card from his pocket and
+wrote upon it the name of his hotel. "Say nothing to your daughter about
+these new threats. I shall probably see you again later in the day."
+Shouldering his kit of tools, Duvall left the apartment. He was by no
+means satisfied with the results of his visit. In fact there had
+apparently been no results at all.
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER V
+
+
+Duvall's first move, after leaving Mrs. Morton's apartment that morning,
+was to enter the taxicab which had been waiting for him at the door and
+return to his hotel. A light overcoat which he had in the vehicle
+concealed his workman's disguise sufficiently to enable him to reach his
+room without exciting comment. Once there, he changed his clothes,
+putting on a professional looking frock coat, and adjusting a pair of
+shell-rimmed eyeglasses to complete the slight disguise. Thus equipped,
+he once more set out.
+
+Grace had left a note for him, saying that she had gone shopping. Beside
+it lay the photograph of Ruth Morton, which he had, he remembered, left
+on his chiffonier while putting on his workman's clothes that morning.
+At the foot of her hastily written note Grace had added a postscript.
+"Is _this_ the reason for your sudden interest in motion pictures?" it
+read. "Well, I'll admit she's a raving beauty, Richard, but I'll bet she
+isn't half as nice as I am." Duvall read the note with a smile. Grace
+was always such a thoroughly good comrade.
+
+Leaving the hotel, he went to the telegraph office from which the
+message to Ruth Morton had been delivered that morning. It was on
+Columbus Avenue, some four blocks from the Mortons' apartment.
+
+"Can you tell me where this telegram was sent from?" he asked. The
+message showed that it had been filed, as well as delivered, within the
+city limits.
+
+The man behind the desk looked up his records.
+
+"It was sent from the main office on lower Broadway, at 8.30," he said,
+briefly.
+
+Duvall thanked him, then turned away. Although he realized that he could
+scarcely hope to obtain even a scanty description of the sender of the
+telegram from the main office, he determined to go there. First,
+however, he walked back toward the Mortons' apartment, and going up the
+steps of the brownstone house adjoining, rang the doorbell.
+
+A neat maid-servant opened the door. Duvall favored her with a smile, at
+the same time taking a notebook and pencil from his pocket.
+
+"I am making some corrections in the city directory," he said. "Will you
+please give me the names of all the persons living in this house." The
+girl stared at him for a moment, but his prosperous appearance, his
+businesslike manner, disarmed any suspicion she may have felt.
+
+"There's--there's Mr. William Perkins," she said, "and Mrs. Perkins, and
+Mr. Robert, that's Mr. Perkins' son, and--and Miss Elizabeth, although
+she's away at boarding school, and--and Emily Thompson, the cook,
+and--and me. My name's Mary. Mary Wickes."
+
+"Thank you, Mary," Duvall replied, entering the names carefully in his
+notebook. "And Mr. Perkins, the elder Mr. Perkins, I mean, is he the
+lawyer?"
+
+"No, sir. It's Mr. Robert that's the lawyer, sir. Mr. William Perkins is
+in the leather business."
+
+"Ah, yes. I see. Thank you very much indeed. And there are no boarders,
+or other persons whatever living in the house?"
+
+"No, sir. Not any, sir."
+
+Duvall closed his book and put it carefully in his pocket.
+
+"Now, Mary," he continued. "Just one more question. Does any one sleep
+in the attic?"
+
+"The attic, sir? Why, no sir. Cook and I sleep on the fourth floor, sir,
+but the attic isn't used, except for storage, sir. Are you going to put
+that in the directory too, sir?" The girl regarded him with wondering
+eyes.
+
+"No, Mary. Not in the directory. But we want to be sure not to omit any
+names, and I thought that if there was anyone living in the attic----"
+he paused.
+
+"No one, as I've told you. Nobody ever goes up there, so far as I know.
+Is that all, sir?"
+
+"Yes. That's all. Thank you. Good morning."
+
+Duvall went down the steps, and proceeded to the subway station,
+somewhat mystified. He had handled many curious cases in the past, many
+that had been notable for their intricacy, their complexity of motive
+and detail. But here, he felt, was a case of a very different sort, the
+peculiarity of which lay in its astonishing lack of clues of any sort.
+Usually in the past there had been motives, evidence, traces of some
+kind or other, upon which to build a case. Here there was nothing,
+except the three mysterious letters, the one equally mysterious
+telegram. He felt baffled, uncertain which way to turn. In rather a
+dissatisfied frame of mind he made his way to the telegraph office in
+lower Broadway. There were several clerks engaged in receiving messages.
+He approached one of them.
+
+"This telegram," he said, holding out the slip of yellow paper Mrs.
+Morton had given him, "was sent from this office at half past eight this
+morning. Can you by any chance give me a description of the person who
+sent it?" He leaned over and addressed the clerk in a low tone. "I am a
+detective," he said. "The telegram is part of a blackmailing scheme."
+
+The man looked at him for a moment, and then consulted with an older
+man, evidently his superior. The latter came forward.
+
+"I received this message myself, sir," he said. "I remember it, because
+of its peculiar wording. What is it you wish to know?"
+
+"I would like a description of the person who sent it," Duvall told him.
+
+The man thought for a moment.
+
+"I'm not able to tell you much," he said. "It was a woman--I didn't
+notice particularly whether she was young or old. In fact, she didn't
+give me a chance, just laid the message and the money down and went
+right out. She evidently knew the rate, for the amount she left was
+correct. I took the message and read it, without noticing her
+particularly, and then, when I had finished reading it and looked up,
+she had gone."
+
+"Then you can't tell me anything about her?" Duvall asked, greatly
+disappointed.
+
+"Not a thing. I remember it was a woman, and my general impression is
+that she was rather young and small, but I can't be at all sure. You
+see, sir, a great many persons come in, during the day, and we haven't
+time to take note of them particularly. As I say, I read the telegram
+first, and counted the words. By that time she had left the office."
+
+Duvall thanked the man for his information and made his way to the
+street. Something at least had been gained. The person who was hounding
+Ruth Morton was a woman.
+
+By this he was not at all surprised. He had felt for some time that
+Ruth's enemy was, in all probability, some jealous and envious movie
+actress who, herself unsuccessful, resented the youth and beauty of her
+successful rival. He called a taxi and directed the driver to take him
+out to the studio of the company with which Ruth was connected. Here, in
+all probability, was to be found the woman he sought.
+
+The journey consumed considerably over an hour, and it was lunch time
+when he finally drew up before the entrance to the series of studio
+buildings. Before entering he went to a nearby restaurant to get a bite
+to eat.
+
+It was a small and rather cheap place, but at this hour was crowded with
+the employees of the big company. Duvall at first could not find a seat,
+but presently discovered one at a table not far from the door, at which
+were seated some young men, apparently stenographers or clerks.
+
+While waiting for his order of sandwiches and milk, the detective
+occupied himself with a newspaper. He was not reading it, however,
+although he pretended to be deeply engrossed in its contents. He was in
+reality listening to the gossip of the studio, which rose in a chorus
+about him.
+
+From a nearby table came the voice of a woman, evidently a great admirer
+of Ruth Morton.
+
+"I tell you," she said, "that new film that she finished last week, An
+American Beauty, is going to be a knockout. She's the swellest thing on
+the screen. Got 'em _all_ faded, _I_ think."
+
+"Think so?" questioned one of her companions. "I'm pretty strong for
+Helen Ward, myself."
+
+"Ruth Morton won't last," remarked a third, in a petulant voice.
+
+"Course she'll last. Say--ain't that a bear of a title? An American
+Beauty. She always seems like a beautiful big rose, to me."
+
+"Well, roses don't last, do they?" asked the petulant voice again. "Not
+very long, anyway."
+
+Duvall turned suddenly in an effort to see the face of the speaker, but
+try as he would, he was unable to do so. Two of the girls sat with their
+backs to him. He could not manage to catch a glimpse of either of them.
+Almost as he turned, the three rose and made their way to the street.
+For a moment he thought of following them, but the idea seemed absurd.
+These twelve dollar a week stenographers or clerks could have no part in
+the plot against Miss Morton. And yet, there was something startling in
+the young woman's words. "Roses don't last." The telegram received by
+Ruth Morton that morning had contained almost the same phrase. "Even the
+beauty of the rose cannot endure." Then he remembered the title of the
+new film of which the girls had spoken, and smiled at his own
+suspicions. "An American Beauty." It would be natural, perfectly natural
+for anyone to refer to Ruth as a rose, with that title for her latest
+picture. He dismissed the matter from his mind, and proceeded to make a
+hasty lunch.
+
+[Illustration: He was watching, not only Ruth, but those about her]
+
+At the entrance of the studio he explained that he was a writer of
+special articles for the Sunday papers, and had come to "write up" the
+life at the studios. He was promptly turned over to one of the officials
+who, after a few inquiries, seemed delighted at the opportunity to
+obtain free publicity for his company and its stars.
+
+"I want particularly to give a sketch of Miss Ruth Morton," he said.
+"She seems to be such a universal favorite."
+
+"A most delightful and charming woman," his companion asserted, with a
+pleased smile. "Come this way. You may be able to see her at work." He
+led Duvall down a long corridor, and into one of the big studio rooms.
+
+The first impression Duvall got was that of utter confusion. People were
+darting here and there, in ordinary clothes, or in all sorts of makeups.
+Stage carpenters were creating a terrific racket, building a new scene.
+A tangle of electric light cables, a blinding glare from the arcs, a
+confusion of voices, a wilderness of scenery and "props" all combined to
+create an impression quite the reverse of what he had expected. Here, he
+felt, was something very different from the theater, something bigger,
+yet more elemental, in which vast sums were expended daily to amuse a
+vaster indeed, a world-wide, audience. He sat down upon a box, and
+inspected the scene before him.
+
+"Miss Morton will be on in a few moments," his guide said.
+
+Duvall nodded. His attention was fixed upon the little drama going on
+before him. He knew nothing of the plot of the play, but the mechanical
+features of the operation held his interest keenly. The brilliant
+electric lights, the setting of the little room, the actors in their
+ghastly greenish makeups, the camera man, grinding stolidly away at his
+machine, the director, hovering about like a hawk, watching every
+movement, every gesture, with a superlatively critical eye, all spoke to
+him of a new world, and one with which he was not in the least familiar.
+
+Suddenly he saw the lovely face of Ruth Morton, as the girl appeared
+from an open doorway. She did not take part in the picture at once, but
+stood chatting with the director, awaiting the moment when she would
+make her entrance. Duvall watched her intently. Her face, he thought,
+was drawn, nervous, her expression one of fear. She seemed suspicious of
+every one who came near her, as though she suspected that every stage
+hand, every electrician or helper, had in his possession a bottle of
+vitriol, which he only awaited the moment to hurl in her face. That the
+girl's nervous manner, her strained and tense expression, was evident to
+others as well as to himself, he realized from a remark his companion
+made to him.
+
+"Miss Morton doesn't seem herself to-day," he said. "She must have
+something on her mind. I shouldn't be surprised if she has been working
+too hard lately."
+
+Duvall made no reply. He was watching, not only Ruth, but those about
+her. In particular he observed the other women in the cast. It seemed
+not improbable that among them he would find the one whose envy had led
+to the sending of the threats Ruth had been receiving.
+
+Presently the scene was finished, and Ruth, in response to a call from
+Duvall's companion, came toward them.
+
+"Miss Morton," the latter said, "let me present Mr. Richards." This was
+the name Duvall had given. "He is anxious to meet you, and write you up
+for one of the newspapers."
+
+Ruth gave him her hand with a smile which Duvall saw clearly enough was
+forced. The girl was palpably worn, _distrait_.
+
+"I'm not going to interview you now, Miss Morton," he said. "I can
+understand that you must be tired, after posing all the morning. Let me
+come and see you sometime when you are more at leisure."
+
+[Illustration: "Come to my house some evening, and I'll tell you all
+about being a 'movie' star"]
+
+She thanked him with a smile, this time quite genuine.
+
+"I'm not feeling very well this afternoon," she said. "Come to my home
+some evening, or better still, on Sunday, and I'll tell you all I know
+about being a 'movie' star. So glad to have met you." She was just about
+to turn away, when a small boy came up, carrying in his hand a flat
+package, wrapped in brown paper. Duvall observed that the package had
+upon it a typewritten address.
+
+"Something for you, Miss Morton," he said, and placed the package in
+Ruth's hand.
+
+The girl looked at it for a moment in dismay. Then realizing that the
+eyes of the two men were bent curiously upon her, she recovered herself
+and tore open the brown paper envelope. Duvall, with one eye on the boy,
+saw that he had disappeared through the door leading to the company's
+executive offices.
+
+Suddenly Ruth, who had been examining the contents of the package, gave
+a faint cry, and swayed backward, as though about to fall. Duvall's
+companion sprang to her assistance, while Duvall himself snatched the
+object which had so affected her from her hand and hastily examined it.
+
+It was a photograph of Ruth Morton herself, but Duvall, as he gazed at
+it, comprehended instantly the effect it had produced upon the girl's
+over-wrought nerves. Some clever hand had been at work upon the
+photograph, retouching it, changing its lovely expression, until the
+portrait, instead of being a thing of beauty, grinned up at him in
+frightful hideousness. The blank, sightless eyes, the haggard cheeks,
+the thin wasted lips, the protruding and jagged teeth, all created an
+impression shocking beyond belief. And yet, the result had been obtained
+by the addition of but a few simple lines and shadows.
+
+Along the blank space at the bottom of the picture a line of typewritten
+characters had been placed. Duvall glanced at them. "As you will look
+soon," the words read. Below them was fixed the grinning Death's head
+seal. Unobserved in the confusion, Duvall thrust the photograph into his
+pocket, and turned to Ruth and the others.
+
+The girl had recovered herself by now, and was being conducted to her
+dressing room by a solicitous crowd. So far as Duvall would see, she had
+said nothing to those about her as to the cause of her sudden
+indisposition, and with the exception of the man who had been Duvall's
+guide, none of them had observed the opening of the package containing
+the photograph, nor its immediate effect upon her.
+
+The latter, however, whose name was Baker, came over to Duvall and
+addressed him.
+
+"What was it about that photograph that upset Miss Morton so?" he asked.
+"And what has become of it?"
+
+Duvall drew him to one side.
+
+"Let us go to your office, Mr. Baker," he said. "I have a most important
+matter to discuss with you."
+
+Baker regarded the detective for a moment in surprise, then, seeing that
+Duvall was very much in earnest, he led the way to his private office.
+
+"I am not a newspaper writer, Mr. Baker," Duvall said, as soon as they
+were seated. "As a matter of fact, I am a detective, in the employ of
+Mrs. Morton, Ruth Morton's mother."
+
+"A detective?" he questioned. "Why has Miss Morton's mother employed a
+detective?"
+
+"Because someone is persecuting the girl, by sending her threatening
+letters, saying that her beauty is to be destroyed. This photograph"--he
+drew the hideous picture from his pocket--"is a sample of their work."
+
+Mr. Baker regarded the photograph for a moment in silence, then rose
+with a growl of rage and struck his clenched fist upon the desk.
+
+"This is outrageous--damnable!" he cried. "It cannot go on. No wonder
+the poor girl looked tired out. We will put the matter in the hands of
+the police. We will spend any amount of money----"
+
+"Wait a moment, Mr. Baker," Duvall interrupted, urging the angry man
+back into his chair. "Nothing is to be gained by giving any publicity to
+this matter. The scoundrels who are at the bottom of it will at once be
+warned, and then our chance of catching them will be small indeed. So
+far, not a soul knows that I am working on this case, outside of Mrs.
+Morton, and yourself. Even Miss Ruth does not know it. I have already
+unearthed some very surprising things connected with the case, although
+I have been occupied with it only since this morning. Within a few days,
+I have no doubt, I shall be able to place my hands upon the person or
+persons responsible for the trouble, but I must insist that I be given a
+free hand."
+
+"But," Mr. Baker expostulated, "she may be in immediate danger. At any
+moment something may happen that would ruin her beauty, and
+incidentally, ruin us as well. She is our star attraction."
+
+"I do not think the danger is immediate," Duvall replied gravely. "All
+the threats so far received set thirty days as the period within which
+the attack is to be made. Only three days have passed, so far. And in
+addition, Miss Morton is being very carefully guarded."
+
+"She certainly shall be while she is here at the studio," Mr. Baker
+exclaimed. "But, man, something ought to be done--at once."
+
+"The first thing to be done is to find out how that photograph got
+here--who brought it--and when. It was not delivered by mail. Look
+here." He handed the angry official the torn manilla envelope, which
+Ruth, in her excitement, had dropped upon the floor.
+
+Mr. Baker regarded it for a moment in angry silence, then pressed an
+electric button upon his desk. A young woman responded.
+
+"Send Jim here," he said. The girl nodded and withdrew.
+
+A few moments later a freckled-faced boy of twelve or fourteen came in.
+Duvall saw that it was the same boy who had brought in the photograph.
+
+"You sent for me, sir?" he asked.
+
+"Yes. Where did you get the package you delivered to Miss Morton a
+little while ago?"
+
+"From Mr. Curry, sir."
+
+"Good." Mr. Baker rose and went toward the door. "Come with me," he said
+to Duvall, "and you too, Jim." The three of them went along the
+corridor, arriving presently at the main entrance to the building. An
+elderly man sat at a high desk behind a wire grating.
+
+"Curry," Mr. Baker burst out, "this boy tells me you gave him a package
+for Miss Morton a while ago."
+
+"Yes, sir."
+
+"Where did you get it?"
+
+The man looked up in surprise.
+
+"Why, sir, someone left it here--on my desk. I don't know who, sir.
+Right after lunch, it was. You know people deliver things here all the
+time. I didn't take any particular notice how it got here. It was just
+pushed through the window, I guess, same as usual. There was a lot of
+mail in the rack, after lunch, and everybody asking for theirs as they
+came in. In fact, I don't remember seeing the package handed in at all.
+Just found it lying on my desk, along with a lot of letters and things.
+Why, sir? Is anything wrong?"
+
+Baker turned to Duvall in disgust.
+
+"No system here at all," he grumbled. "The trail is lost, of course.
+Half a hundred people come through here every hour. That's all, Jim," he
+said, turning to the boy, who disappeared at once. Accompanied by
+Duvall, Baker returned to the private office.
+
+"Well?" Mr. Baker asked. "What next?"
+
+"How many typewriters have you in your offices, Mr. Baker? Machines, I
+mean, not operators."
+
+"About thirty, I guess. Or maybe thirty-five. Why?"
+
+"I want you to get me a sample of the writing of each machine, without
+letting anyone know about it. Put each one on a separate sheet of paper,
+with a note added, stating whose machine it is--that is, in whose
+office."
+
+Mr. Baker nodded. "I'll do it to-night," he said. "Attend to it myself.
+I see your idea. You think this thing is the work of someone inside the
+studio."
+
+"It may be, I don't know. But I mean to find out."
+
+"All right. Anything else?"
+
+"Yes. Tell me something about this new film you've just gotten out. 'An
+American Beauty,' I think it is called."
+
+Mr. Baker's manner became enthusiastic.
+
+"Greatest film Ruth Morton ever did," he exclaimed. "A knockout. It is
+to be shown at the Grand, on Broadway, to-morrow night. First time on
+the screen. You'd better look it over."
+
+"I probably shall. Now, tell me this. If I wanted to add anything to
+that picture, put in an insert, I believe you call it, could I do so, if
+I told you about it to-morrow?"
+
+"Well--it might be done," Mr. Baker replied, dubiously. "But we wouldn't
+want to change the film any. It's perfect as it is."
+
+"I don't doubt that. I have no idea of improving it in any way. But it
+is just possible that I may have a scheme that will help us to catch
+these people who are threatening Miss Morton. I'll tell you more about
+it, to-morrow. Meanwhile, don't forget about the typewriter samples.
+I'll see you in the morning." He rose. "And for the present, I think it
+would be best for you to keep what I have told you to yourself."
+
+Mr. Baker nodded.
+
+"I'll do that," he said, putting out his hand. "For the present, at
+least. But don't forget, Mr. Duvall, that this is a very vital matter to
+our company, and we can't afford to take any chances."
+
+"I realize that fully. You can depend on me. I intend to save Miss
+Morton from any harm, not primarily on your company's account, but on
+her own. Good day."
+
+"Good day, and the best of luck."
+
+Duvall went toward the entrance, and in the corridor met Mrs. Morton.
+She was about to pass him, but he detained her.
+
+"Twenty-seven days more," he whispered to her. She turned sharply, a
+look of fear upon her face, but as she recognized Duvall, her expression
+changed.
+
+"Oh--it's you," she exclaimed. "I've just come down in the car, to take
+Ruth home. Is everything all right?"
+
+"Yes, so far. At least no harm has come to your daughter. But I am sorry
+to say that she has received another warning."
+
+"Here?" Mrs. Morton started, and glanced about in alarm.
+
+"Yes."
+
+"What was it?"
+
+"A photograph." Duvall explained the contents of the mysterious package,
+but did not show the hideous picture to the girl's mother.
+
+"And you haven't found out anything yet?"
+
+"Nothing definite. There has scarcely been time. But we will. You may be
+sure of that."
+
+"Have you seen Ruth?" Mrs. Morton asked.
+
+"Yes. Mr. Baker introduced me to her. She thinks I am a newspaper man,
+who wants to write a special article about her for one of the Sunday
+papers. She suggested that I call at your house some evening, or
+possibly Sunday. If you are going back to town soon, I think it might be
+a good idea for me to drive back with you."
+
+"By all means. I shall feel much safer. Suppose you wait for us at the
+entrance. I shall not be long."
+
+Duvall nodded, and strolled toward the street, his mind busy with the
+events of the day. He stood for quite a while near the door, watching
+the people who came in and out. Many of them were women. He wondered if
+among them was the woman who was responsible for the threats of the past
+three days. It seemed improbable, and yet, there were indications that
+it was within the studio, rather than outside it, that the guilty person
+was to be found.
+
+Mrs. Morton came out presently, accompanied by Ruth. The girl looked
+pale and troubled. Duvall went up to her.
+
+"I have met your mother, Miss Morton," he said, "and she has very kindly
+suggested that I ride back to the city with you."
+
+The girl nodded, without particular interest.
+
+"We shall be very glad to have you," she said, "but you will excuse me,
+I know, if I do not talk to you about my work. I am feeling rather bad
+to-day, and I'm sure I couldn't tell you anything interesting."
+
+"I'm sure I would not expect it, under the circumstances," Duvall
+replied, as Miss Morton, accompanied by her mother, went toward the
+automobile that stood near the entrance. "I don't doubt your work is
+full of trying incidents."
+
+"Oh, it isn't my work," the girl replied, as he assisted her into the
+car. "I love my work. But there are other things." She glanced toward
+her mother with a tired smile, then sank back upon the cushions.
+
+A moment later they were whirling toward the city.
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER VI
+
+
+Duvall's ride back to town with Mrs. Morton and Ruth was quite
+uneventful. The latter, as she had explained, was ill, weak, indisposed
+to talk. Duvall and Mrs. Morton kept up a brisk conversation upon topics
+of the day, but both knew that it was of the girl they were thinking,
+and their interest in the subjects they discussed was clearly forced.
+Both were glad when the car at last stopped before the apartment
+building, and the long ride was over.
+
+Mrs. Morton invited Duvall to come in and dine with them, and he
+promptly accepted. Ruth seemed indifferent. Assisted by her maid, she
+left the car and on reaching the apartment, at once went to her room.
+
+"You will excuse me, I know," she said to Duvall. "I am tired out, and
+think I had better lie down at once. Nora will bring me some dinner,"
+she said, turning to her mother.
+
+Duvall and Mrs. Morton ate their dinner in silence. Some sense of
+oppression, of impending evil, hung over them both. Mrs. Morton left the
+table toward the close of the meal, and went to her daughter's room.
+With the solicitude of the typical mother she arranged the windows. That
+opening to the fire escape she raised to its full height. The one facing
+upon the court she left as it was, raised some six or eight inches.
+Then, having kissed her daughter good night, she returned to the
+library, where Duvall sat smoking a cigar.
+
+"Ruth has gone to bed," she told him. "Both the windows in her room are
+open, the one on the fire-escape wide, the other partly raised."
+
+Duvall looked at her with an expression of doubt.
+
+"I think it would be better, for the present," he said, "to close and
+fasten the one opening on the fire escape. We cannot tell to what danger
+your daughter may be exposed."
+
+Mrs. Morton rose and left the room.
+
+"I will do as you advise," she said. Going to Ruth's bedroom she closed
+and fastened the window in question, then she went back to the library.
+
+"Have you hit upon any theory to account for the sending of these
+letters?" she asked.
+
+Duvall shook his head. "The whole thing is very mysterious," he said.
+"Of course it was easy enough for anyone to leave the photograph at the
+studio this afternoon. In fact it might readily have been done by one of
+the other actresses, who might be jealous of your daughter's success.
+But if the thing was done by anyone employed at the studio, how can we
+account for the message left in the bedroom at half-past nine this
+morning, the one we found on the floor? If the woman who is responsible
+for these threats was at the studio this morning, how could she arrange
+to have the note left in your daughter's bedroom here at the same hour?
+That would seem to imply a confederate. I confess that the entire matter
+is for the moment beyond me."
+
+"Were you able to find out anything concerning the telegram which came
+this morning?"
+
+"Nothing, except that it was sent by a woman. I was not surprised to
+learn that. Naturally I should expect that a woman was responsible for
+these threats. But what woman? That is the question." He sat for a long
+time, thinking, his eyes fixed upon the floor.
+
+Suddenly there came a ring at the doorbell. Mrs. Morton, without waiting
+for the maid, sprang to the hall, with Duvall close at her heels. As she
+threw it open, they saw a man standing in the doorway. Duvall was the
+first to recognize their caller.
+
+"How do you do, Mr. Baker," he said, holding out his hand.
+
+Mr. Baker came in, and greeted Mrs. Morton.
+
+"I didn't expect to find Mr. Duvall here," he said. "In fact, I came to
+you to get his hotel address. Luckily I won't need it, now."
+
+"Anything new?" Duvall asked, as they returned to the library.
+
+"Nothing much. I got those samples of the writing of the various
+typewriters, as you requested," Baker replied, "and I thought that
+instead of waiting until to-morrow, it would be better to bring them to
+you to-night." He took a sheaf of papers from his pocket. "There are
+thirty-two in all. What are you going to do with them?" He placed the
+papers in Duvall's hand.
+
+The latter sat down at the library table and placed the sheets of paper
+before him.
+
+"Of course you know," he said to Baker, "that every typewriting machine
+has its unmistakable peculiarities. It is almost impossible to find a
+machine that has been used at all, that has not developed certain
+individual defects, or qualities, found in no other machine. Now let us
+take for instance the letters that Miss Morton has received during the
+past few days. They have all been written on the same machine, and I am
+of the opinion that it is a fairly old one. While going down to the
+studio this afternoon, I worked out and wrote down in my notebook the
+particular features which appear in all these letters." He took a small
+leather-covered book from his pocket.
+
+"In the first place," he said, "the letter 'a' throughout the several
+communications is always found to be out of line. The key bar is
+doubtless a trifle bent. Let us, therefore, see if, in any of the
+samples you have brought me, there exists a similar defect."
+
+He took the samples of writing, one by one, and after scrutinizing them
+carefully, passed them over to Baker, who likewise subjected them to a
+critical examination. When their work was completed, it was found that
+of the thirty-two samples, the displacement of the letter "a" occurred
+in but three, and in one of these it was so slight as to be scarcely
+noticeable. Duvall laid the three pages to one side. "A second fault
+shown in the typewriting of the letters," he said, "is to be found in
+the capital 'W.' Its lower right-hand corner has been worn or broken
+off, so that it invariably fails to register." He handed one of the
+letters to Baker. "See here, and here. The corner of the 'W' instead of
+being clear and distinct, is blunt and defective. Let us see whether a
+similar fault is to be found in any one of these three samples." He
+picked up the three sheets of paper that he had placed to one side.
+
+As he examined them, Mr. Baker and Mrs. Morton saw a shadow of
+disappointment cross his face. He handed the three pages to Baker.
+
+"The threatening letters were not written on any machine at your
+studio," he said.
+
+Baker took the pages and looked them over carefully.
+
+"No," he said at length. "You are right. None of these show the second
+defect you have named."
+
+"Well," observed Duvall cheerfully, "we have accomplished something, at
+least. We know that these letters were not written at the studio, and it
+seems reasonably certain that the woman we are looking for has a
+typewriter in her rooms, or wherever she may live. Of course she might
+have had the typewriting done by some public stenographer, but I
+consider it unlikely. A person sending threats of this character would
+not be apt to entrust so dangerous a secret to a third person. We must
+therefore make up our minds to find a woman who has a typewriting
+machine, and knows how to use it."
+
+"There are probably a hundred thousand such women in New York," Baker
+observed, gloomily.
+
+"No doubt. But we have more information than that about the person who
+sent these letters."
+
+"What, for instance?" asked Baker and Mrs. Morton in a breath.
+
+"Well, in the first place, this woman was able to secure possession of a
+photograph of Miss Morton." He took the hideously distorted picture from
+his pocket. "Do either of you know where this photograph was made?"
+
+Mrs. Morton examined the picture with a shudder. Then she rose, went to
+a cabinet at the other end of the room, and took out an album. Returning
+to the table, she placed the book before her, and began to turn the
+pages. In a few moments she found what she was looking for, a duplicate
+of the likeness which lay before them, with the exception, of course, of
+its frightful distortions.
+
+"This picture was made by Gibson, on Fifth Avenue," she said, referring
+to the photograph in the book. Both Baker and Duvall saw at once that on
+the retouched picture, the name of the photographer had been scratched
+off.
+
+"How many of them were made, and what became of them?" Duvall asked
+quickly.
+
+"Ordinarily I could not answer such a question," Mrs. Morton replied,
+"for Ruth has had many photographs taken, and we have not of course kept
+a record of them, or what has become of them, but in this particular
+case I happen to remember that she did not like the pose particularly,
+and ordered but half a dozen. I do not think that she gave any of them
+away. If I am right in my supposition, there should be five more here in
+the apartment." Closing the book, Mrs. Morton went to the cabinet again,
+and took out a portfolio containing numberless photographs of her
+daughter in all sorts of poses.
+
+After some searching, she produced a brown-paper envelope, containing a
+number of pictures, all taken by the same photographer, at the same
+time. There were in the envelope four copies of the photograph, the
+fifth of which was contained in the album.
+
+"Evidently one has been given away," Duvall exclaimed. "Now if we can
+only find out to whom, our search for the writer of these letters may be
+very quickly ended."
+
+Mr. Baker regarded them both with a puzzled look.
+
+"I have seen that picture before," he said, "and of course I could not
+have done so, had I not seen the one that is missing." He sat for a
+while in silence, searching his recollection for a solution of the
+problem. Suddenly he spoke. "There was a picture like that in my office,
+at one time," he exclaimed. "Miss Morton sent a number down, for
+advertising purposes, and I am positive that this one was among them. I
+remember distinctly the pose of the head, the unusual arrangement of the
+hair. That photograph should be in our files. The fact that it has been
+taken out shows that the person who has been writing these letters is a
+member of our own staff, or at least has access to our files."
+
+"That does not necessarily follow," observed Duvall.
+
+"Why not?"
+
+"Because the picture might have been obtained from the photographer."
+
+"But they are not allowed to dispose of the portraits of others, without
+the sitter's permission."
+
+"I know that, but they sometimes do so, especially in the case of anyone
+so well known as Miss Morton. She has become a sort of public character.
+
+"Well," remarked Duvall, "we can readily find out, in the morning. You,
+Mr. Baker, can go through your files, and should you find the photograph
+to be there, I will take the matter up with the photographer. If, on the
+contrary, the picture is missing, it will be fairly conclusive evidence
+that the person or persons we are looking for are in some way connected
+with the studio."
+
+"I will make an investigation the first thing in the morning," Mr. Baker
+announced, rising. "Do you expect to be at the studio early, Mr.
+Duvall?"
+
+"Yes. Quite early."
+
+"Then we had best leave matters until then. Good night. Good night, Mrs.
+Morton." He turned and started toward the door.
+
+He had proceeded but a few steps, when the three occupants of the room
+were startled by a series of sudden and agonizing cries. From the rear
+of the apartment came a succession of screams so piercing in their
+intensity, so filled with horror, that they found themselves for a
+moment unable to stir. Then Mrs. Morton gave a cry of anguish, and
+darted out into the hall, closely followed by Duvall and Mr. Baker.
+
+The screams continued, filling the entire apartment with their clamor.
+That the voice which uttered them was that of Ruth Morton none of the
+three doubted for a moment. With sinking hearts they went on, prepared
+for the worst. Duvall found himself dreading the moment when they should
+reach the bedroom door, and face the girl, her beauty, perhaps,
+disfigured beyond all recognition.
+
+There was a sharp turn, at the end of the hall, into a shorter cross
+hall, at the end of which was the door of Ruth's bedroom. It was closed,
+but as though in response to Mrs. Morton's agonized appeals, it suddenly
+opened as they reached it, and Ruth Morton, pale as death, appeared.
+
+With wide open eyes staring straight ahead, she half stepped, half fell
+through the doorway, her slender figure clothed only in her night dress.
+"Ruth," Mrs. Morton screamed, as she caught sight of her daughter.
+
+The girl tried to say something, but her tongue failed her. Then, with a
+faint moan, she lurched forward and fell limply into her mother's arms.
+
+
+
+
+PART II
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER VII
+
+
+When Duvall, Mr. Baker, of the motion picture company, and Mrs. Morton
+rushed down the hallway of the latter's apartment in response to the
+screams from Ruth's bedroom, they were one and all convinced that the
+girl had suffered some terrible injury--that the mysterious threats to
+destroy her beauty which had been made during the past few days had been
+converted into some frightful reality.
+
+One glance at the girl's white face as she fell fainting into her
+mother's arms told the detective that their fears had been, to that
+extent at least, groundless. The girl's lovely features, although drawn
+and contorted by fear, showed no signs of the disfigurement they feared.
+
+Leaving the girl to her mother's care, Duvall, closely followed by
+Baker, dashed into the bedroom, and at once switched on the lights. The
+place, to the intense surprise of both, presented a picture of perfect
+quiet and order. The bed clothing was slightly disarranged, but this of
+course was but natural, since Ruth had sprung up under the influence of
+some terrible fear, and rushed from the room. Everything else seemed in
+its place.
+
+Duvall's first act was to examine the window. The one fronting on the
+fire escape was closed and tightly fastened. It was perfectly clear that
+no one had entered the room in that way.
+
+The other window, facing on the court, was raised a few inches, just as
+Mrs. Morton had left it half an hour before. Duvall turned to his
+companion with a puzzled frown.
+
+"I had supposed, Mr. Baker," he said, "that someone had entered this
+room, and frightened Miss Morton while she was asleep, but that is
+impossible. The windows have not been disturbed."
+
+Baker glanced at the one which faced the court.
+
+"That one may have been," he said, indicating it with a nod. "Someone
+may have come in that way, raising the window to effect an entrance, and
+lowering it again after leaving."
+
+"I admit that what you say would be possible, were there any way in
+which the window might be reached from outside," Duvall replied, "but if
+you will look out, and tell me how anyone could make an entrance from
+the court, I will agree to the possibility you suggest."
+
+Baker raised the window, and glanced out.
+
+"The apartment above," Duvall went on, "is unoccupied, and the window
+above is closed and fastened. The little attic in the adjoining house is
+unused, although that is not important, since no one could reach this
+window from it, in any event. Can you suggest any other way?"
+
+Mr. Baker shook his head.
+
+"She must have been frightened by some terrible nightmare," he said. "I
+do not wonder at it. She has gone through enough to upset anybody's
+nerves. Suppose we go back and question her."
+
+"Just a moment," exclaimed Duvall. Then he dropped upon his knees beside
+the disordered bed, and began to examine the surface of the counterpane
+with minute care.
+
+"What is it?" Baker asked, joining him.
+
+"I don't know--yet," returned Duvall, as he took a magnifying glass from
+his pocket and proceeded to scrutinize with the greatest interest some
+marks upon the counterpane's surface. Presently he rose, replaced the
+glass in his pocket, and turned to his companion.
+
+"There is something very astonishing about this whole affair," he
+exclaimed. "What do you make of those?" He indicated a series of dark
+smudges upon the bedspread, arranged in little groups.
+
+Baker bent over and examined the marks with an exclamation of surprise.
+
+"Why--they look like finger prints," he cried. "Large finger prints."
+
+"It is impossible to say whether they are finger prints or not," Duvall
+replied. "As you see, there are a great many of them, very confusingly
+arranged. But there is something else, that you have not noticed. What
+do you suppose could have made a mark like this?" He pointed to a long
+straight dark line, which extended half way across the counterpane, and
+pointed directly toward the window which faced upon the court. The line
+was very faint, but clearly defined, as though someone had laid a thin
+dusty stick across the bed.
+
+"I can't make anything of it," Baker exclaimed, gazing toward the
+window.
+
+"Nor can I," said Duvall. "At one time, because of certain indentations
+on the letters found in this room, I had thought that they might have
+been introduced through the partly opened window by means of a long rod,
+a fishing pole, perhaps. This mark on the counterpane appears to bear
+out that theory. The smudges which look like finger prints may have been
+merely the points at which the end of the pole, or whatever was attached
+to the end of the pole, came in contact with the bed. All that is
+perfectly supposable. But you can see for yourself that if a long pole
+were thrust through the window, raised as the latter was but a trifle
+above the level of the bed, the other end of such a pole must of
+necessity have been held at approximately the same level, and the only
+point outside the window from which it could have been so held is _in
+the air, forty feet above the bottom of the court_! The thing is
+absurd."
+
+"There is, of course, the window of the apartment below," Baker
+suggested. "Might not it have been used?"
+
+"I thought of that," Duvall replied. "You can see for yourself that even
+a tall man standing on the window sill below, would find not only his
+hands, but even his head, far below the sill of this window, nor could
+anyone so support themselves, without something to hold on to. But all
+that is beside the question. The people in the apartment below are
+friends of Mrs. Morton's, a middle-aged man and his wife, with two young
+children. They are eminently respectable people, and quite above
+suspicion."
+
+"Then I give the thing up," exclaimed Baker. "Suppose we have a talk
+with Miss Morton."
+
+They found the girl lying on a couch in the library, with her mother
+sitting beside her. She seemed very weak and quiet, but in full
+possession of her faculties. Duvall drew up a chair, and asked her if
+she felt able to tell them what had occurred.
+
+"Yes," she replied in a faint voice, her face still showing evidences of
+her fright. "I will try to tell you exactly what happened."
+
+"I had taken some medicine to make me sleep, before I got into bed,
+because I was very nervous and upset. When mother came back to fix the
+windows I was already drowsy, and just remember that she turned out the
+lights, and then I must have dozed.
+
+"All of a sudden I heard a strange rasping noise, and I woke up, with
+the feeling that there was someone in the room. I don't know just why I
+felt so sure of that, whether it was merely a sense of someone's
+presence, or the sound of someone moving about near my bed. I think,
+however, that it was the latter.
+
+"The room was dark, of course, but enough light came through the windows
+to make a moving object distinguishable. I looked about, terribly
+frightened, but for a moment I saw nothing. The noise I had heard at
+first continued. Then without the least warning, a hand seemed to clutch
+at the bedclothes, and I saw above me, bending over me, a terrible dark
+face, exactly like the grinning death's head on those letters I've been
+getting.
+
+"I lay perfectly still, frozen with horror, and in a moment the face had
+disappeared, and then I began to scream. Right after that I sprang from
+the bed and threw open the door, and found mother and Mr. Baker and
+yourself standing in the hall. That is all I know."
+
+Duvall looked at her for a moment, puzzled.
+
+"Are you sure you really saw someone leaning over you? Might it not have
+been an illusion, the result of your nervous condition?"
+
+"No. I am certain someone was there--someone quite tall, I should say,
+and with a terrible, evil face."
+
+"It might have been a mask, of course," Duvall suggested. "Someone
+wearing a mask."
+
+"Yes. It might have been. It was too dark for me to tell, of course. But
+I remember the eyes, for I saw them distinctly. They were only a few
+inches from my own." She put her hands to her face and shuddered. "It
+was terrible, terrible. I shall never sleep in that room again."
+
+"There--there, dearie," Mrs. Morton whispered in a soothing voice. "You
+need not sleep there. You can lie right here, for the rest of the night,
+and I will stay with you and see that no one harms you."
+
+"That would be best, Mrs. Morton," Duvall remarked. "And to-morrow I
+suggest that you and your daughter move, temporarily at least, to
+another location. Some quiet hotel, where you will not be subject to
+these terrible annoyances. I cannot imagine how it is done, but in some
+way, some almost superhuman way, it seems, someone can apparently either
+enter your daughter's room, or at least reach it from without, at will."
+
+"What do you mean by that?" asked Ruth, somewhat mystified.
+
+"I mean this, Miss Morton. I do not believe that there was anyone in
+your room to-night. I do not believe that there has ever been anyone
+there. But I _do_ believe that the two letters we found there were
+introduced from without, in some mysterious way, at the end of a long
+pole, or rod. And I think that what frightened you so to-night was
+merely a mask, a grotesque representation of the seal used on the
+letters, and pushed toward you in some way, as you lay in bed for the
+purpose of terrifying you."
+
+"But--why--why?" the girl cried.
+
+"I cannot say. But it has occurred to me that these people, whoever they
+are, that are trying to injure you, may not intend any physical violence
+at all, at least for the present, but may be depending solely upon the
+terrible and insidious power of suggestion. You must bear this
+possibility in mind, and try to control your fears. I can readily
+believe that thirty days of this sort of persecution, and you would be a
+physical and mental wreck. But we shall stop it. You need have no fears
+on that score." Mrs. Morton turned to her daughter with a few words of
+explanation.
+
+"Mr. Richards, or rather, Mr. Duvall, is not a newspaper man, Ruth, but
+a detective, who is trying to bring the wretches who are annoying you to
+justice. I feel every confidence in him."
+
+Ruth turned toward Duvall a very white and pathetic face.
+
+"I hope you will succeed, Mr. Duvall," she said, in a weak voice. "I
+cannot stand much more."
+
+"I shall, Miss Morton. And now," he turned to Mr. Baker, "I think we had
+better go, and let Miss Morton get some rest. I will come here in the
+morning, Mrs. Morton," he continued, addressing the girl's mother, "and
+we will consider further the question of your moving to a hotel.
+Meanwhile I do not think you have anything further to fear this evening.
+Good night."
+
+Before leaving the apartment he made another examination of the marks
+upon the bedclothes, then closed and fastened both windows, and locked
+the door of the room.
+
+Mr. Baker left him at the corner.
+
+"You will come to the studio to-morrow, of course."
+
+"By all means. I shall come down with Miss Morton and her mother. That
+will give us an opportunity to investigate further the matter of the
+missing photograph, and also to talk over that plan I had in mind
+concerning the new film you are to show at the Grand to-morrow night. It
+is barely possible that, by means of a plan I have in mind, we may be
+able to locate the person or persons responsible for all this trouble."
+
+"I certainly hope so," said Baker, as he took his leave. "This thing is
+getting on _my_ nerves, too."
+
+Duvall made his way back to his hotel, as much mystified as ever. He had
+thought for a moment of spending the night on the sidewalk in front of
+the Mortons' apartment, watching the windows facing on the court, but
+his experience told him that it would be useless. The alarm which Ruth
+had made, the closing of the windows of her bedroom, the locking of the
+door, all made it highly improbable that any further attempt would be
+made to annoy her during the night. He walked along in a state of
+intense preoccupation, trying to discover some reasonable explanation of
+the astonishing events of the day.
+
+Once he had an impression, a feeling, that he was being followed, but
+when he turned around, there was no one in sight but a slightly tipsy
+man, and a couple of young girls, far down the street. He dismissed the
+thought from his mind, and proceeded to his hotel.
+
+It was not yet eleven o'clock, and Grace was waiting for him in the
+little parlor of their suite.
+
+"Well, Richard," she remarked, as he came in, "you've had quite a day of
+it."
+
+"Yes, quite," he replied, throwing himself into a chair. "What have
+_you_ been doing with yourself?"
+
+"Shopping, mostly. I found it rather dull. I went to a moving picture
+this afternoon. Saw your friend Ruth Morton. She certainly is a very
+beautiful girl."
+
+"Yes--very," Duvall replied, absently.
+
+"Have you seen her to-day?" Grace went on, with a smile.
+
+"Yes. Why?"
+
+"Oh--nothing. I was just thinking."
+
+Duvall burst into a laugh, and rising, went over to his wife and kissed
+her.
+
+"For heaven's sake, Grace," he said, "don't be silly. I'm not interested
+in motion picture actresses."
+
+"You weren't, I'll admit, nor in motion pictures either, until recently,
+but perhaps you have changed. I could understand any man being
+fascinated by a girl like Ruth Morton."
+
+Duvall did not pursue the question. It was a hard and fast rule between
+them not to discuss his professional work. And Mrs. Morton had made it a
+point that he should confide in no one, not even his wife.
+
+"Well," he said, picking up an evening paper, "I'm not fascinated yet.
+No letters for me to-day, I suppose."
+
+"None." Grace went on with her sewing.
+
+They sat for a while in silence. Presently there came a knock on the
+door, and a boy appeared, bearing a telegram, Duvall opened it
+carelessly, thinking it some word from the overseer of his farm. He sat
+up with sudden astonishment as he read the contents of the message.
+
+"Keep out," the telegram read, "or you will find that we can strike
+back."
+
+Duvall placed the telegram in his pocket with a frown. So it appeared
+that in spite of all his care, his connection with the case was known.
+How this was possible he could not imagine. His first visit to the
+Morton apartment that day had been in the guise of a workman. His
+subsequent appearance at the studio, and later, at the apartment, had
+been in the character of a newspaper man. There was only one
+explanation. Someone had watched him while he was making his examination
+of Ruth Morton's room, and, subsequently, had followed him from the
+apartment to his hotel. He began to realize that he was dealing with a
+shrewd brain, and one that acted with almost uncanny quickness and
+precision. He determined that, if Mrs. Morton and her daughter changed
+their place of residence the following day, he would do the same. He
+said nothing of his intentions to Grace, however. It was more than ever
+necessary that he preserve secrecy in this case.
+
+"No bad news, I hope, Richard," Grace remarked, glancing up from her
+sewing.
+
+"No. Nothing serious. Have you heard anything from home?"
+
+"Yes. Everything is going along quite smoothly. The boy is well and
+happy, and Mrs. Preston says to stay as long as we want to."
+
+"Well," said Duvall, rising and throwing down his newspaper, "if things
+don't go better than they have been going to-day, I may have to be here
+some time. I've got a queer case on, Grace. I'd like to tell you about
+it, but I can't. But it is quite unusual. Some features to it that I
+have never met before."
+
+"Oh--I wish I might help you," Grace exclaimed. "You know how often I
+have done so in the past."
+
+"I know, dear. But I am bound to secrecy, for the present at least.
+Suppose we turn in now. I've got to get up early."
+
+"All right," Grace said. "But if you need my help, don't hesitate to ask
+me. To tell you the truth, I'm having an awfully slow time."
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER VIII
+
+
+Duvall made his appearance at the Morton apartment the following morning
+in his ordinary guise. It was his intention, when the time came, to
+disappear from the case in his normal person, to reappear in it, later,
+in a complete disguise. But that time, he felt, had not yet arrived.
+
+Mrs. Morton received him in fairly good spirits. Her daughter, she said,
+had had a restful night, in spite of her terrible experience. When Ruth
+rose from the breakfast table to greet him, he was gratified to find
+that she showed no great traces of the fright of the evening before.
+
+"I'm feeling almost myself again, Mr. Duvall," she said. "I've made up
+my mind not to let these people frighten me again."
+
+"Nothing further occurred last night, of course," Duvall asked.
+
+"Nothing," replied Mrs. Morton. "I could almost believe the whole thing
+a horrible dream." They did not touch on the question of going to a
+hotel, during the short interval that elapsed before they set out for
+the studio. Duvall was anxious to see Mr. Baker. He hoped sincerely that
+by means of the photograph which had been in the company's files, some
+trace of the persons responsible for the threats might be obtained.
+
+The trip to the studio was made most uneventfully, and Ruth started in
+with her work in very good spirits. Duvall, leaving the girl with her
+mother, sought out Mr. Baker in the latter's private office.
+
+"Hello!" Baker cried, grasping the detective's hand warmly. "Anything
+new?"
+
+"Not a thing. How about the photograph we were going to trace?"
+
+Mr. Baker frowned.
+
+"It's a curious thing," he replied. "Most curious. The picture in
+question was, I find, taken from the files by Mr. Moore, our president,
+and placed on his desk. He always admired it, and kept it there, along
+with a number of others, to show to persons calling upon him. Now, it
+seems, it has disappeared. There is not the slightest trace of it."
+"But," Duvall objected, "who could have taken it?"
+
+"A dozen people. Half a hundred, I guess. You see, Mr. Moore's office is
+a big room, just beyond here." He rose, and led the detective through a
+short corridor. "Here it is," he went on, throwing open the door. "This
+is where Mr. Moore receives his callers. It is his reception room, and
+no private papers are kept here. Those are all in the smaller office
+adjoining. This room is open at any time. After Mr. Moore leaves in the
+evening, and he often leaves early, anyone might come in here. And when
+the offices are closed, at night, I suppose any employee of the company
+might look in, if he cared to do so, without anyone objecting. You see,
+this is a sort of public room. The inner office is always kept locked,
+but there has never seemed to be any good reason for locking this one."
+
+"Still, although you cannot tell who has taken the picture, it seems
+clear enough that it must have been removed by some one employed in the
+studio."
+
+"Even that is by no means certain. So many people come here every day.
+All sorts of visitors, writers, actors, and the like. After business
+hours I don't doubt any number of persons enter this room, to look at
+the pictures of our great successes that hang on its walls. And then
+there are the caretakers, the scrub-women, and their friends. I find
+that they, many of them, bring in outsiders, after working hours, to
+look at the studio, and the famous offices. Of course it should not be,
+and it will not be, in the future, but up to now we have rather welcomed
+people from outside. It seemed good advertising."
+
+Duvall followed his companion back to his office.
+
+"Then this clue, like all the others in this singular case," he
+remarked, "seems to end in a blind alley."
+
+"It seems so," assented Mr. Baker, gloomily. "What was your plan about
+the new film we're going to show to-night?"
+
+Duvall was about to speak, but before he could do so, they heard a
+slight commotion in the hall outside. Then someone rapped violently on
+the door.
+
+Both he and Baker sprang to their feet.
+
+"Come in," the latter cried.
+
+The door was flung open, and Mr. Edwards, the director, who was making
+the picture upon which Ruth Morton was working, strode hastily into the
+room. "Mr. Baker!" he exclaimed, then paused upon seeing Duvall.
+
+"What is it?" Baker replied.
+
+"Will you look here a minute, please?"
+
+Baker went up to him, his face showing the greatest uneasiness.
+
+"What's the matter?" he asked. "Anything wrong?"
+
+"Yes. Miss Morton was going through the scene in the first part, where
+she gets the telegram, you know, and when she opened the message, and
+read it, she fainted."
+
+"Fainted? What was in the telegram to make her faint?"
+
+"Well, it ought to have read, 'Will call for you to-night, with marriage
+license--Jimmy.' That was the prop message we had prepared. But somebody
+must have substituted another one for it. This is what she read." He
+handed Baker a yellow slip of paper. "I can't make anything out of it."
+
+Baker snatched the telegram from his hand with a growl of rage, and read
+it hastily. Then he passed it over to Duvall.
+
+"What do you think of that?" he asked. Duvall gazed at the telegram with
+a feeling of helpless anger.
+
+"Twenty-six days more," it read. "When you appear in your new picture at
+the Grand to-night, it will be your last. I shall be there." The grinning
+death's head seal was appended in lieu of a signature, as before.
+
+A feeling of resentment swept over the detective. It seemed that these
+people acted as they saw fit, with supreme indifference to the fact that
+he was on their trail. Never before had he felt his skill so flouted,
+his ability made so light of. And yet, as usual, the message had
+apparently been delivered in such a way as to make tracing it
+impossible.
+
+"Still at it, it seems," Mr. Baker remarked. "This thing has got to
+stop, and at once. I don't propose to let anybody make a monkey of me."
+
+Duvall turned to the director, Mr. Edwards.
+
+"Who prepared the original telegram?" he asked quickly.
+
+Mr. Edwards looked at the detective in surprise, evidently wondering
+what this stranger had to do with the matter.
+
+"Answer, Edwards. It's all right," snapped Mr. Baker.
+
+"I prepared the property telegram," the director answered.
+
+"When?"
+
+"Last night. I knew it would be needed to-day."
+
+"What did you do with it?"
+
+"I left it on my desk. This morning I took it into the studio, and when
+the moment arrived, I gave it to the actor who took it to Miss Morton."
+
+"Was he out of your sight, after you gave him the telegram?"
+
+"No. He took it and walked right on the scene."
+
+"Then he couldn't have substituted another for it?"
+
+"No. It would have been impossible, unless he used sleight of hand."
+
+"Before you gave the man the telegram where was it?"
+
+"In my coat pocket."
+
+"No chance, I suppose, of anyone having taken it out and substituting
+another."
+
+"None."
+
+"Then it is clear that the substitution must have been effected between
+the time you left your office last night, and your arrival here this
+morning."
+
+"Yes."
+
+"Was this possible?"
+
+"Undoubtedly. I left my office last night about six. It is never locked.
+The caretakers, the women who clean the offices, were in there later,
+and from seven to nine this morning it would also have been a simple
+matter for anyone to enter and make the change."
+
+Duvall turned to Mr. Baker.
+
+"It's the same story," he said. "Someone who works in the building is
+responsible for this thing, or else is able to bribe one or more of your
+employees to act for them. But we won't get very far looking for the
+guilty person, with several hundred people to watch and no clues
+whatever to go on. Suppose we go back to your office, and I will tell
+you what I had in mind about this evening."
+
+"Is Miss Morton able to go on with the scene?" Baker asked, as Edwards
+started away.
+
+"No. She seems all broken up. I don't think she is very well. Her mother
+is going to take her home, as soon as she feels better."
+
+"Will you ask Mrs. Morton to wait a little while, Mr. Edwards? Tell her
+that Mr. Duvall will join her presently, and go back to the city with
+her." Mr. Edwards nodded, and withdrew, and Duvall and Mr. Baker retired
+to the latter's private office.
+
+"What did you have in mind about that new film we're going to release
+to-night?" Mr. Baker asked.
+
+"I'll explain that presently. First, tell me how long it will take you
+to make a short section of film, say enough to show for about ten
+seconds?"
+
+"Oh--not long. But what of?"
+
+"I'll explain that presently. But you could make such a section of film,
+develop and print it, and insert it in the picture you are going to show
+to-night, if you had to, couldn't you?"
+
+"Yes--if we had to. But what's the idea?"
+
+Duvall took a bit of paper from his pocket and handed it to Baker.
+
+"I want you to make a picture of this, and have it inserted in the film
+at any convenient point--say at the beginning of the second part. And
+you had better have the cutting and pasting-in done by some trusted
+person, under your personal supervision."
+
+"But," said Baker, gazing in amazement at the bit of paper Duvall had
+handed him. "What's the idea of putting this in our picture? It wouldn't
+do at all."
+
+"Look at that telegram Mr. Edwards just gave you. The writer says in it,
+'I shall be there.' Now if the person who is causing all this trouble is
+going to be in the audience at the Grand Theater to-night, it is our
+business to find her. I say her, because I am convinced the guilty
+person is a woman."
+
+A look of comprehension began to dawn upon Mr. Baker's face.
+
+"By George!" he exclaimed. "You figure out that this will cause her to
+disclose herself--make some sign?"
+
+"I feel certain of it."
+
+"Then we will put it in." He laid the square of paper on his desk. "I
+will have the section of film made privately, and at once. I shall not
+tell even the other officers of the company about it. I suppose they
+will give me the devil, until after they know the reasons for it, but
+then, of course, it will be all right."
+
+Duvall rose and put out his hand.
+
+"You will be there to-night, of course?"
+
+"Of course. And you?"
+
+"Oh, I'll be on hand all right, although you may not recognize me. Good
+day." With a quick hand-shake he left the room, and went to look for
+Ruth and her mother. He found them in the girl's dressing-room, ready to
+depart. Ruth was pale and terrified, showing the most intense
+nervousness in every word and movement. Mrs. Morton, scarcely less
+affected, strove with all her power to remain calm, in order that her
+daughter might not break down completely. Duvall did his best to cheer
+them up.
+
+"You must not let this thing prey on your mind, Miss Morton," he said.
+"We are going to put a stop to it, and that very soon."
+
+"I hope so, Mr. Duvall," the girl replied. "If you don't, I'm afraid I
+shall break down completely."
+
+"I think we had better go home at once," Mrs. Morton said. "Ruth is in
+no condition to do any more work to-day."
+
+"I quite agree with you about going, Mrs. Morton, but not home." He
+lowered his voice, as though fearing that even at that moment some tool
+of the woman who was sending the letters might be within earshot. "I
+suggest that you let me take your daughter to some quiet hotel. You can
+follow, with her maid and the necessary baggage, later on. But we must
+be certain to make the change in such a way that our enemies, who are
+undoubtedly watching us, will not know of it. We will all leave here in
+your car, giving out that we are going to your home. No one will suspect
+anything to the contrary. On our arrival in the city, your daughter and
+I will leave the car, and drive to the hotel in a taxicab. When, later
+on, you follow with the baggage, take a taxi, sending your own car to
+the garage. I know your confidence in your chauffeur, but in this affair
+we can afford to trust no one. Your daughter and yourself can remain
+quietly in the hotel, under an assumed name, for a few days, until she
+recovers her strength. Meanwhile, I have every expectation that the
+persons at the bottom of this shameful affair will have been caught."
+
+The plan appealed to Mrs. Morton at once, and she told the detective so.
+
+"But where shall we go to--what hotel?" she asked.
+
+Duvall leaned over and whispered in her ear the name of an exclusive and
+very quiet hotel in the upper part of the city.
+
+"Do not mention the name to anyone," he said, "not even to the taxicab
+driver, when you leave the house. Tell him to put you down at the
+corner, a block away, and do not proceed to the hotel until you see that
+he has driven off. And keep your eyes on your maid. I do not suspect
+her, I admit, but there seems to be a leak somewhere, and we must stop
+it."
+
+Mrs. Morton nodded, and rose.
+
+"We had better start, then," she said. "I understand perfectly. Have
+Ruth register in the name of Bradley. And I think, Mr. Duvall, if you
+can do so, you had better arrange to stop there as well."
+
+"I had intended to do so," the detective replied.
+
+"That will be better." Mrs. Morton led the way to the street.
+
+"You did not intend to go to the showing of your new film at the Grand
+to-night, did you?" Duvall asked Ruth, after they had started away from
+the studio.
+
+"Yes, I had intended to go," she replied. "I always go to my first
+releases. But to-night I do not feel able to do so."
+
+"I think it is just as well. What you need most now is rest."
+
+The girl looked at herself in a small mirror affixed to the side of the
+car.
+
+"Oh," she exclaimed. "I look terrible. These people are right, it seems.
+Three more weeks of this persecution and my looks would be quite gone.
+Mr. Edwards told me only this morning that he had never seen me look so
+bad." There were tears in her eyes.
+
+Duvall realized that she spoke the truth. The effect of the strain upon
+her nervous system, the brutal shocks of the past two days, the horror
+of the experience of the night before, had wrought havoc with the girl's
+beauty. Her face, gray, lined, haggard, her eyes, heavy and drawn, made
+her the very opposite of the radiant creature that had created such a
+furore in motion picture circles. The methods of her persecutors, if
+unchecked, would beyond doubt wreck her strength and health in a short
+time, and in addition, there was the danger that at any moment a
+physical attack, a swiftly thrown acid bomb, an explosive mixture
+concealed in an innocent-looking package, might destroy both her beauty
+and her reason in one blinding flash. With the fear in her great brown
+eyes constantly before him, Duvall determined more than ever to free her
+from this terrible persecution.
+
+They separated in the neighborhood of 30th Street, Duvall and Miss
+Morton taking a taxicab that stood before one of the smaller Fifth
+Avenue hotels. He made a pretense of entering the hotel, and did not
+summon the taxi until Mrs. Morton's car was well out of sight up the
+Avenue. Then he instructed the driver to proceed first to his hotel.
+
+Their stop here was but momentary. Duvall went to his room, threw a few
+articles of clothing into his grip, left a note for Grace, telling her
+that he would be absent for several days, then rejoined his companion
+and drove uptown to the hotel opposite the park, the name of which he
+had mentioned to Mrs. Morton. He felt perfectly certain that they had
+not been followed.
+
+Upon arriving at the hotel, he entered their names, including that of
+Mrs. Morton, upon the register, using the pseudonym which that latter
+had suggested. Then, sending Ruth to her room, he asked to see the
+manager, and had a brief conference with him in private. Immediately
+thereafter, he went up to his own apartment.
+
+As he had arranged, it adjoined the suite selected for the Mortons. He
+tapped lightly on the communicating door.
+
+"Are you all right, Miss Morton?" he called.
+
+"Yes," came the girl's voice from the opposite side. "All right, thank
+you."
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER IX
+
+
+Grace Duvall said good-by to her husband that morning with very little
+enthusiasm. She was not jealous of him, she was too sensible a woman,
+and trusted him too fully for that. But his sudden interest in Ruth
+Morton, the charming motion picture star, seemed rather incomprehensible
+to her. Of course she suspected he was working on a case which concerned
+the girl although Duvall had neither affirmed nor denied it. But she
+felt lonely, and perhaps a trifle out of sorts, and found her solitary
+breakfasts, luncheons, dinners, a little trying. So often before, she
+and Richard had worked together. Why, she wondered, did he so pointedly
+exclude her from this case? She would have liked to talk it over with
+him.
+
+She sat rather disconsolately in her room most of the forenoon, and
+about one o'clock made ready for a lonely luncheon. She was just about
+to leave the apartment when the telephone bell rang. Grace hastened to
+it at once, hoping that the call might be from her husband. A woman's
+voice, low, firm, determined sounded in her ears.
+
+"I want to speak with Mr. Duvall," the voice said.
+
+"Mr. Duvall is out. This is Mrs. Duvall."
+
+"Very well, Mrs. Duvall. If you want to keep your husband from very
+serious harm, you had better tell him to steer clear of Ruth Morton's
+affairs in future. A word to the wise, you know. Good day." The speaker
+suddenly rang off.
+
+Grace turned from the telephone, her brain in a whirl. What danger
+threatened her husband? Ought she not to tell him of the message as soon
+as possible, so that he might be on his guard? And what did this
+mysterious reference to "Ruth Morton's affairs" mean. Did it imply that
+Richard was in any way involved--but that was preposterous. She put the
+thought from her mind, and went down in the elevator to a lonely and not
+very enjoyable meal.
+
+As she left the dining-room, and passed through the lobby, she thought
+she saw ahead of her a familiar figure. A moment later she realized that
+it was Richard himself, walking very rapidly toward the main entrance,
+his satchel in his hand. Was he leaving the hotel? And if so, ought she
+not to make an attempt to give him the message she had just received,
+before he did so? She walked quickly after him, but his pace was so
+rapid that she reached the sidewalk only in time to see him swing
+himself into a waiting taxi, baggage in hand, and drive quickly off. But
+what Grace saw, in addition to this, filled her with queer misgivings.
+Beside her husband in the cab was a woman--very beautiful woman, whom
+Grace had no difficulty whatever in identifying as Ruth Morton. And she
+also noticed, in the brief moment that elapsed before the taxi shot
+toward the Avenue, that the woman seemed to be in tears, and that
+Richard leaned over with the utmost solicitude and affection and clasped
+her hand in his. For the first time in her life, Grace Duvall was
+actually jealous.
+
+Thoughts of possible danger to her husband, however, were paramount in
+her mind. Without an instant's hesitation she stepped into a second
+taxi, whose driver was trying to attract her attention, and told him to
+follow the car containing the man and woman which had just driven off.
+
+The chauffeur grinned knowingly, nodded, and started his car. His grin
+drove from Grace's mind her sudden and unaccustomed jealousy. She knew
+that Richard must be going away with this girl for some reason connected
+with his professional work. Of course that work did not usually include
+consoling beautiful damsels in distress, but there must be extenuating
+circumstances. She put her unpleasant thoughts from her mind, and
+proceeded on her mission, to give her husband the warning message she
+had just received, with a reasonably calm mind.
+
+After a drive of some fifteen minutes, she saw the cab ahead of them
+begin to slow up, and observed that her chauffeur did likewise.
+Presently the first cab stopped before the doors of a big, imposing
+looking hotel, and Richard and Miss Morton hurriedly entered.
+
+Grace did not at once get out. She knew that her husband might resent
+her having followed him, and did not care to put him to any disadvantage
+by appearing so unexpectedly upon the scene. She waited, therefore, for
+several minutes, until he would have had time to go to his room, and
+then, paying off her cabman, she strolled quietly into the hotel lobby.
+
+There were a few persons sitting about, but Richard was not amongst
+them. Going to the clerk at the desk, she asked to see Mr. Richard
+Duvall.
+
+The clerk regarded her with a supercilious stare, consulted his records
+in a bored way, then informed her that no such person was registered
+there.
+
+Grace was completely taken aback.
+
+"But I saw him come in, only a few moments ago," she protested.
+
+"No such person here, Miss." With a frigid smile the clerk turned away,
+watching her, however, out of the corner of his eye, as though he
+considered her a suspicious character.
+
+Grace leaned over and examined the register. There were three entries
+upon it, in a handwriting clearly that of her husband. "Mrs. Bradley and
+maid," the first entry said. "Miss Bradley," the second. They had been
+assigned a suite of rooms. The third and last entry was "John Bradley."
+His room adjoined the suite. All three were set down as hailing from
+Boston.
+
+Grace puzzled for a long time over this mysterious series of entries
+without arriving at any definite conclusion regarding them. Where was
+the so-called Mrs. Bradley? And why had her husband assumed the same
+name? Was he posing as Ruth Morton's brother, and if so, for what
+reason? She could not make head or tail of the matter, and wondered
+whether she had better send up her card, or write Richard a note and
+leave it for him, telling of the warning. While she was debating the
+matter in her mind, she suddenly saw him emerge from one of the
+elevators at the opposite side of the lobby, and come toward the desk.
+
+Grace approached him at once, glad that the matter had been so simply
+arranged.
+
+"Richard," she said, in a low voice. "I want to speak to you."
+
+The gentleman she had addressed regarded her with a frown.
+
+"My name is not Richard, madam," he said, pointedly. "I am John Bradley.
+You must have made a mistake." With a polite bow he passed on.
+
+Grace was completely taken aback. She knew that between them there
+existed a tacit understanding never to address each other, in public,
+during the progress of a case, unless requested to do so by some sign.
+But she felt that she had important information to give her husband, and
+then, she _had_ been a trifle jealous and annoyed. The thought that she
+had committed an error filled her with chagrin. Without a word, she left
+the hotel.
+
+At a nearby corner she stepped into a telephone booth, and calling up
+the hotel, asked to speak to Mr. John Bradley. In a few moments she
+heard Richard's familiar tones.
+
+"This is Grace," she said quickly. "I'm sorry I spoke to you, just now,
+but I wanted to tell you that some woman telephoned the hotel to-day,
+and left a warning to the effect that if you did not keep out of Miss
+Morton's affairs, you would be in serious danger."
+
+"How did you know where I was?" Duvall asked.
+
+"I saw you leave the hotel, and followed you."
+
+"You should not have done so."
+
+"But I wanted to give you the message. I thought you ought to know."
+
+"I understand that, but I wished my presence here to be unknown to
+anyone. You made a serious mistake. I only hope that no harm will come
+of it."
+
+"But--how could harm come of it?"
+
+"You drove here in one of the hotel's regular cabs, I suppose?"
+
+"Yes."
+
+"Then the people I am trying to avoid may trace me here, through the
+driver of that cab."
+
+"Oh--Richard--I'm so sorry. Isn't there anything I can do?"
+
+"Nothing, now, except to make no further attempt to communicate with me
+here. Good-by."
+
+Grace returned to her hotel, very thoroughly dissatisfied with what she
+had done. It seemed to her that by trying to warn Richard of possible
+danger, she might only have brought it upon him. Apparently he had left
+their hotel, to avoid the very persons who had telephoned the warning
+message to her. She arrived at the door, got out of the cab in which she
+had made the journey, and looked about, hoping that the cabman who had
+driven her uptown might now be at his usual stand. To her delight, she
+saw that he was.
+
+She went up to the man, a slim, keen looking young Irishman, and engaged
+him in conversation.
+
+"Do you remember driving me uptown an hour or so ago?" she asked.
+
+"Sure I do, Miss," answered the man, touching his cap.
+
+"Then please forget completely where you went, will you?" She handed the
+man a ten dollar bill. "It is barely possible that someone may try to
+find out, through you, where I went. Be sure that you give them no
+information."
+
+"They'll get nothing out of me, Miss," the man replied, pocketing the
+bill with a pleased grin.
+
+"And if anybody _does_ try to find out, get their name, if you can, and
+if not, a description of them."
+
+"I'll do my best, Miss."
+
+"I am stopping here. My name is Duvall, Mrs. Duvall."
+
+"Very good, ma'am. I'll attend to it, ma'am."
+
+Grace went up to her room, satisfied that she had remedied her mistake,
+and began to look through an afternoon paper she had bought. There
+seemed nothing better to do, during the evening, than to go to the
+theater. Glancing down the list of attractions, she suddenly saw the
+name of Ruth Morton, in large letters, billed in a new feature play, _An
+American Beauty_, opening at the Grand Theater that night. She at once
+made up her mind to go. Since yesterday, her interest in Miss Morton had
+perceptibly increased. And in spite of all, Richard _had_ held her hand.
+
+She was just finishing her dinner, when a page came through the room,
+calling her name. She got up at once and followed him to the lobby.
+
+"I am Mrs. Duvall," she said.
+
+The boy looked up.
+
+"There's a chauffeur outside wants to see you, ma'am," he said, "Tom
+Leary."
+
+Grace understood at once, and made her way to the sidewalk. The cab
+driver of the morning stood near the entrance.
+
+"I beg pardon, ma'am, for calling you out," he said, "but I couldn't
+come in, and there was something I felt you ought to know."
+
+"What is it?"
+
+"A lady came here to see me a while ago," he said. "A smallish looking
+woman, not pretty, with light hair. She had on a dark brown suit. Not
+very good style, ma'am. She asked me if I knew anybody in the hotel
+named Duvall. I said I did. I find she'd been asking all the other
+cabmen, and had been to the desk, before that. I guess she must have
+been inquiring for your husband, ma'am."
+
+"Yes--yes--very likely," Grace hastily replied. "What then?"
+
+"Well, ma'am, she then asked me if I knew Mrs. Duvall. I said I did.
+Then she wanted to know if I'd driven either you or your husband to any
+other hotel to-day, and I said I hadn't, but that I usually did drive
+you, when you went anywhere. I took the liberty of saying that, ma'am."
+
+"Yes. I'm glad you did. Go on."
+
+"Then she hands me five dollars, and says that if I _did_ drive you to
+any other hotel, I was to let her know which one it was."
+
+"Where?" Grace asked, eagerly.
+
+The man fished from his pocket a small bit of cardboard upon which was
+scrawled with a pencil "Alice Watson, General Delivery."
+
+Grace stared at the bit of paper in surprise. Had she, by some lucky
+chance, discovered the very person for whom Richard was seeking? Of
+course the name was probably a fictitious one, and the address "General
+Delivery," meant nothing, and yet, it provided a clew by means of which
+this woman might be found.
+
+"You have acted very wisely, Leary," she said. "I am greatly obliged to
+you."
+
+"Do you want me to send her any word, ma'am?"
+
+"I may. I am anxious to get hold of this woman, or, to be more exact, my
+husband is. I will consult with him first, however. It may be that he
+will want you to write her a letter, giving her some such information as
+she desires, and then, by going to the general delivery window at the
+post office and watching, identify her when she comes for it. Do you
+think you could arrange to get off and do this?"
+
+"Well, ma'am, even if I can't arrange to get off, you could of course
+hire my cab, and----"
+
+"Of course," Grace interrupted. "Very well. I will let you know further
+about the matter a little later. Meanwhile, here is something more for
+your trouble." She gave the man another bill. "Now drive me to the Grand
+Theater."
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER X
+
+
+Duvall, after having satisfied himself that Ruth Morton was safely
+installed in her suite of rooms at the hotel, came down to the lobby to
+await the arrival of Mrs. Morton.
+
+The unexpected meeting with Grace caused him the utmost anxiety. He
+appreciated fully her reasons for having come to see him, and yet he
+deeply regretted her coming. The enemies of Ruth Morton were far too
+clever, too shrewd, he feared, not to take advantage of her mistake, and
+by means of it, trace him at once to his present address. A complete
+disguise became an immediate necessity. He decided to assume one, as
+soon as Mrs. Morton had arrived.
+
+The latter came in about ten minutes later accompanied by Nora. Duvall
+explained matters to the clerk at the desk, and the supposed Mrs.
+Bradley was conducted to her rooms at once. Duvall accompanied her.
+
+They found Ruth resting quietly, but her joy at her mother's arrival was
+very apparent. She feared to be left alone, and seemed to expect her
+persecutors to appear from every closet, through every door or window.
+
+"Oh, mother, I'm so glad to see you," she exclaimed.
+
+"I'm glad to find you safe," Mrs. Morton returned.
+
+"I advise you to stay right here with your daughter throughout the
+evening, Mrs. Morton," said Duvall, as he made ready to go to his own
+room. "Have your meals sent up. Admit no one. Open no packages. I have
+every hope that before the night is over, I may have some most important
+and satisfactory news for you. I shall probably not see you again until
+after the performance to-night, but if anything vital occurs, I will of
+course communicate with you by telephone. Good-by, and good luck."
+
+When he reached his own room, he proceeded to the business of divesting
+himself completely of all resemblance to Richard Duvall. It was clear
+that the persons he was seeking knew him by sight, and hence his
+opportunities to accomplish anything against them were very greatly
+lessened. The threatening telephone message received by Grace did not
+worry him at all, but the fact that those people were so constantly upon
+his heels did. He determined to disappear completely as Duvall, and
+reappear in the person of John Bradley, using all his skill in the
+matter of disguise to create for himself a totally different
+personality.
+
+Taking a makeup box from his grip, he proceeded first to give his dark
+brown hair a very decided and natural looking touch of gray, over the
+temples and at the sides. Then he fitted into place a short pointed
+grayish beard, and a mustache with waxed ends. These were products of
+the skill of one of the best wig-makers in Paris, and so cleverly made
+that they would defy detection, even in broad daylight. A pair of
+gold-rimmed eyeglasses completed the facial disguise. Duvall might now
+have passed anywhere for a well-groomed professional man of fifty-five
+or sixty.
+
+The impression was heightened by his frock coat and silk hat. He felt
+quite sure that, in his present disguise, the plotters against Ruth
+Morton's welfare could not possibly recognize him.
+
+He went down to the theater very early, after a hasty dinner, and found
+Mr. Baker in the box office. The moving picture man did not recognize
+him, of course, and Duvall, after drawing him aside, had some little
+difficulty in convincing him of his identity. Once it had been
+established, however, Mr. Baker conducted him to a dressing room behind
+the scenes, and motioned him to a chair.
+
+"We can talk here without being seen or heard," he said. "Is there
+anything new?"
+
+"Nothing. I have taken Mrs. Morton and her daughter to a hotel, where I
+feel sure they will be quite safe from further annoyance. Ruth will not
+come to the studio for a few days, until we have gotten to the bottom of
+this affair. I am staying in an adjoining room, so as to be on hand at
+once in case of any trouble. I suppose you have everything fixed for
+to-night?"
+
+"Yes." Mr. Baker's tone was dubious. "I have inserted in the film the
+material you gave me. It will appear just at the end of Part I. I hope
+it will not spoil our picture."
+
+"I think not. As a matter of fact, when the reasons for its introduction
+become known, I imagine it will give you a lot of very valuable
+advertising."
+
+"Possibly so," Mr. Baker granted. "But after all, I begin to feel very
+doubtful as to the results. This woman, whoever she is, that is
+persecuting Miss Morton seems to be mighty clever. She may not be
+affected in the way you think, by what she sees on the screen."
+
+"I realize that. It is only a chance. But don't you think that, under
+the circumstances, it is a chance worth taking?"
+
+"Most certainly; otherwise I should not have consented to it. But, as I
+say, I doubt very much its success."
+
+"Well--we can only try. You will remember what I said about the lights,
+and the call for a doctor, if one appears to be needed."
+
+"Yes. I have all that in mind. Miss Morton is not coming to-night, I
+presume."
+
+"No. I advised against it."
+
+"I'm glad of that."
+
+Duvall sat in silence for a moment.
+
+"By the way," he said presently. "There is one important matter that I
+have overlooked. Do you give your employees passes for these opening
+performances?"
+
+"No--not regularly, that is. But any member of our organization who
+wishes to see the performance would of course be admitted. We reserve a
+section of the house for that purpose. A number of our people usually
+come over."
+
+"Good! That's just what I had hoped for. Where is this section?"
+
+"The last five rows on the left-hand side of the house. But why?"
+
+"Don't you see? All the evidence points to the fact that the person who
+is responsible for these threats either works in your studio, or is in
+some way able to gain access to it at any time. Witness the stolen
+photograph--the substituted telegram of this morning. In the latter it
+was definitely stated that the woman in the case would be in the
+audience to-night. I am hoping sincerely that she will not have the
+cleverness to enter as one of the public, but will come in as one of
+your people, and sit in the section of the house reserved exclusively
+for your employees. In that event, I think we shall discover who she is
+beyond a doubt."
+
+"I certainly hope so," sighed Mr. Baker. "This thing has got us all up
+in the air. Our President had a long conference with me this afternoon
+about Miss Morton. He seems to think she is going to pieces, and
+recommended trying to get Joan Clayton away from the Multigraph people
+to take her place. He says that she is losing her good looks. I told him
+nothing, of course, but it worried me a lot. I am very fond of Ruth
+Morton, and I don't want to see her lose her place."
+
+"She won't lose it," asserted Duvall. "When we get through, her position
+with your company will be stronger than it has ever been before. Shall
+we go out in the lobby and take a look at the crowd as it comes in?"
+
+Mr. Baker assented, and the two men stationed themselves near the box
+office.
+
+Without appearing to do so, Duvall inspected the various members of the
+incoming crowd. His scrutiny was careful, comprehensive, but the only
+person he recognized was Grace.
+
+That she also recognized him he knew. She had seen the disguise he wore,
+many times, and was familiar with it. She did not betray herself,
+however, by so much as a glance, but proceeded at once to her seat.
+
+When the moment arrived for the beginning of the performance, the house
+was filled. Duvall, with Baker at his side, stationed himself back of
+the left-hand section of seats, so that the rows reserved for the
+employees of the company were directly in front of him. He occupied
+himself, during the interval before the lights were switched off, by
+noting carefully all the women in the last five rows, but none of them
+attracted his attention particularly.
+
+Soon the performance began. Ruth Morton, the American Beauty, stepped
+upon the screen, a compelling vision of loveliness. The audience
+followed eagerly her exciting adventures. Duvall himself, in spite of
+his preoccupation, found himself absorbed by the charm and action of the
+picture. In the opening scenes, Ruth appeared as a poor girl, trying to
+make her way in the great world of the theater. Her struggles, her
+sacrifices, her failures, were almost vividly portrayed. When at last,
+through her marvelous beauty, she succeeded in gaining recognition from
+the critics, he applauded with those about him, completely under the
+spell of her charm.
+
+The final scene of the first part was a view of Ruth, as Catherine Grey,
+the American Beauty, refusing the dubious offers made her by a rich New
+Yorker. With a faith in herself by no means assumed, Catherine turned
+from his picture of luxury, of steam yachts, of country estates, of
+unlimited bank accounts, with a smile which showed her confidence in her
+beauty, her talents. The audience watched her, spellbound, as she stood
+on the sidewalk before the theater, looking with grave inscrutable eyes
+after the costly limousine that had just driven away without her. In no
+picture heretofore taken of the girl had she appeared to better
+advantage. Every line of her lovely face seemed responsive to the effect
+of the lighting, the situation, the motives which inspired her. The
+audience drew itself back, ready to register its approval of the first
+part of the film with hearty applause.
+
+And then, something happened. The lovely, smiling face of Ruth Morton
+faded from view, and in its place came with brutal suddenness the
+picture of a huge grinning death's head, amazing in its suggestion of
+horror. The audience sat in utter silence, wondering what could be the
+reason for this sudden apparition. Beneath the death's head appeared in
+huge letters the words:
+
+                      "We know the woman."
+
+The thing had come as a complete surprise. The tension throughout the
+house was electric. Duvall saw his wife rise from her seat on the aisle,
+a few rows away, and come quickly to the rear of the house. She, at
+least, realized that a moment of importance had arrived.
+
+And then, without warning, the stillness of the theater was broken by a
+sudden cry, and a woman, sitting some three rows from where Duvall
+stood, but on the opposite side of the aisle from the seats indicated by
+Mr. Baker, rose to her feet, turned, and fell heavily against the back
+of the seat ahead of her. At almost the same moment the lights were
+switched on, and a voice was heard calling. "Is there a doctor in the
+house?"
+
+It was Mr. Baker, and Duvall, who stood beside him, sprang forward at
+once.
+
+"I am a doctor," he cried, and approached the place where the woman sat.
+
+"Can I be of any assistance?" Grace asked. "I am a trained nurse."
+
+"Yes," replied Duvall, quickly. "Get this woman to the ladies' dressing
+room at once."
+
+Grace sprang forward. There was a bustle among the audience, a sudden
+rising, a craning of necks. Everyone seemed to be looking for the person
+who had uttered the sudden cry. Before anyone fully realized what had
+happened, Grace had reached the fainting woman's side, and supporting
+her with an arm about her waist, was leading her toward the rear of the
+house.
+
+Almost at once the theater became dark, and the second part of the
+picture was flashed upon the screen. The lovely face of Ruth Morton once
+more greeted the eyes of the audience. The interruption had occupied
+less than a minute.
+
+Duvall, standing at the entrance to the aisle, watched Grace come
+quickly toward him, supporting the fainting woman. The latter seemed
+completely overcome, and Grace was obliged almost to carry her.
+
+"Keep her there, in the dressing room, until I return," he said in a
+quick whisper. Then with a nod to Mr. Baker, who stood close by, he went
+toward the street. A taxicab drew up, awaiting a fare. Duvall signaled
+to it.
+
+"Wait for me here," he said to the driver. "I will be back in a moment."
+Then he re-entered the theater.
+
+Grace meanwhile had conducted the woman to the ladies' dressing room,
+and placed her upon a couch.
+
+She was a frail, insignificant looking creature, not at all the sort of
+person one would associate with threats of the kind that Ruth Morton had
+been receiving. She appeared to be greatly ashamed of her sudden
+collapse, and kept insisting, in spite of her evident weakness, that she
+was quite all right again, and wanted to go.
+
+Grace, however, paid no attention to her protestations, but insisted
+that she remain quiet.
+
+"The doctor will be here in a moment," she said. "You must wait quietly
+until he comes."
+
+The woman, however, seemed determined to leave, and it was with a sigh
+of relief that Grace welcomed her husband's return.
+
+Duvall came in hurriedly, as he did so taking a small brown bottle from
+his waistcoat pocket.
+
+"Get me a glass of water," he said to the negro maid. The woman brought
+one at once.
+
+Duvall took a tablet from the bottle and placed it in the glass,
+stirring the water about with the end of a lead pencil until the tablet
+was dissolved. Then he went up to the woman on the couch.
+
+"Here--drink this," he commanded. "It will quiet your nerves."
+
+The woman took the glass, her eyes regarding him with suspicion. Duvall,
+in his character of a physician, turned aside, and addressed a few words
+to Grace, fearing that in some way the woman might succeed in
+recognizing him. As a result both failed to see that instead of drinking
+the medicine he had given to her, the girl swiftly poured it upon the
+floor. When he again turned to her, she held the empty glass in her
+hand.
+
+Duvall took it from her, and handed it to Grace.
+
+"Come with me, Miss," he said. "I will see you home."
+
+"It isn't necessary," the woman gasped. "I--I'm all right now."
+
+"You have had a severe shock, Miss. As a physician, it is my duty to see
+that you arrive home safely. I have already engaged a cab. Come." He
+took the woman by the arm and in spite of her objections, raised her
+from the couch.
+
+Suddenly her opposition vanished. She seemed glad of his assistance,
+and, leaning on his arm, made her way from the theater. Duvall was in
+high spirits. He fully believed that his plan had succeeded, that the
+woman at his side was the one who was responsible for the threats which
+had made Ruth Morton so wretched for the past few days.
+
+The cab that he had engaged stood waiting at the door. He put the woman
+inside. She seemed very weak and helpless. "Drive to the ---- Hotel,"
+Duvall called to the chauffeur, then entered the cab and seated himself
+at the woman's side. He saw Mr. Baker standing upon the sidewalk, and
+nodded. Then they drove off.
+
+The woman lay, in a state of apparent collapse, in one corner of the
+cab, her face pale, her eyes closed. Duvall, inspecting her as well as
+he could in the faint light, began to feel grave doubts as to whether
+after all he had been successful in his ruse. She seemed so little the
+type of woman he would have associated with the brutal campaign of
+terror that had been directed against Miss Morton.
+
+She clutched a black leather satchel tightly in one hand. Duvall
+regarded it with interest. If he was right in his assumption that this
+was the woman he sought, it seemed highly probable that within that
+satchel lay evidence that might convict her. At least there would be
+some clue as to who she was, and that in itself would be valuable.
+
+The woman seemed to grow weaker and weaker. Her closed eyes, her slow
+but regular breathing, indicated that the drug he had given her had
+begun to take effect. Stealthily Duvall's hand reached toward the small
+black satchel. With eager fingers he pressed the catch, and as the bag
+opened, began to draw out its contents.
+
+The woman, however, seemed far less helpless than he had supposed. She
+pulled the satchel toward her, her fingers seeking to close it. Duvall
+discontinued his efforts at once. It would be time enough, he felt, when
+they had reached the hotel, and the woman had been safely conducted to a
+room there. He had made his plans carefully in advance, and arranged
+matters with the hotel manager. There was nothing to do, now, but wait.
+
+Presently the woman, who had been regarding him, unnoticed, from beneath
+lowered lids, uttered a groan, as though in great pain, and clutched her
+breast. Duvall turned to her at once, speaking in a soothing voice, and
+assuming a professional manner.
+
+"Is anything wrong, Miss? I had hoped you were feeling better."
+
+"No, doctor. I'm not. I feel terrible--terrible."
+
+"In what way?"
+
+"My--my heart. It is in awful shape. I need some stimulant. The--the
+medicine you gave me made me feel very ill."
+
+Her words surprised Duvall. He had given her a simple drug, the effect
+of which should have been to make her drowsy, to quiet her nerves. That
+she had not taken it, he of course did not know. His greatest fear had
+been that she would refuse to enter the cab with him. Now that she had
+done so, he was prepared to use even force, if necessary, to retain her
+in his custody until he had either obtained the evidence he desired, or
+forced from her a confession. What he particularly hoped to find was the
+seal with which the death's head impression had been made. He felt
+certain that, if this was the woman he sought, she would have this seal
+somewhere about her person. It was far too significant a bit of evidence
+to be left lying about at home.
+
+But there was always the chance that this woman, who had been so
+instantly affected by the ghastly apparition on the screen, the
+significant words beneath it, might not, after all, be the right one,
+the one he sought. There was always the possibility that the real
+criminal, although present in the audience, had made no sign, and that
+his companion in the cab might be entirely innocent. As he had told
+Baker, it was a chance--a long chance, yet something seemed to say to
+him that he had made no mistake in taking it. Now, however, a new
+situation had arisen to upset his plans. His prisoner, instead of having
+been quieted by the drug he had administered, was apparently becoming
+more and more agitated and nervous every minute. Her groans, as she lay
+huddled up in the corner of the cab, puzzled him, filled him with vague
+alarm. Was it possible that she had a weak heart? Had the sedative he
+had given her, harmless as he knew the dose would be to a normal person,
+affected her in so unfavorable a way? He took her wrist in his hand, and
+felt her pulse. It was quick, indicative of nervous excitement, but
+certainly not weak.
+
+"Oh--doctor, doctor, won't you _please_ give me something to make me
+feel a little better?" the woman gasped. "It's my heart, I tell you.
+I--I can't breathe. I'm suffocating. I must have something at once--some
+aromatic spirits of ammonia--some brandy--anything, to make me feel a
+little better."
+
+Her earnestness, her trembling voice, her excited manner, all served to
+convince Duvall that his companion was really in need of a stimulant of
+some sort. He decided to humor her. A dose of aromatic spirits, he
+reflected, could do no harm, and would doubtless serve to lessen her
+excitement. He leaned out, and directed the driver of the cab to stop at
+the nearest drug store.
+
+"Oh--thank you--thank you," the woman gasped. "Tell him to hurry,
+please." Then collapsing in the corner of the seat, she closed her eyes
+and sat so silent that Duvall began to wonder whether she had lost
+consciousness.
+
+The taxicab, meanwhile, had drawn up in front of a drug store on Sixth
+Avenue. Duvall took a look at the apparently unconscious woman, then
+spoke quickly to the chauffeur.
+
+"Stay here until I return," he said. "Don't go away under any
+circumstances. I shall be gone but a moment."
+
+The man nodded.
+
+"I'll stay, sir," he said. "Don't worry."
+
+Duvall went quickly into the store. Going up to the soda counter, he
+instructed the clerk to prepare him a dose of aromatic spirits of
+ammonia as quickly as possible. While waiting for it, he watched the cab
+through the store window.
+
+The preparation of the dose required but a few moments. Then, explaining
+matters to the clerk, Duvall took the glass in his hand and went back to
+the cab. He smiled to himself at his anxiety, as he passed through the
+door. The woman was far too ill, he reflected, to entertain any thoughts
+of escape.
+
+"Here," the detective said, opening the door of the cab. "Drink this."
+
+There was no response. Duvall stuck his head into the vehicle with some
+misgivings. Then he experienced a sudden and most mortifying shock.
+There was no fainting woman huddled against the cushions in the far
+corner. There was no woman at all. _The cab was empty!_
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER XI
+
+
+Richard Duvall had had charge of many unusual and intricate cases, in
+the past, and he prided himself upon the fact that he had handled them
+with skill and discretion, and that the results which had followed had
+been both quick and decisive. But in all his career he had not, so far
+as he could remember, ever felt quite so chagrined, as he did when he
+threw open the door of the cab and found that the woman he had left
+there had disappeared.
+
+The fault was his, he knew that well--entirely and unmistakably his.
+This woman was evidently far more clever, more subtle than he had
+imagined. He realized now that she had in all probability not taken the
+drug he had given her in the dressing room of the theater, that she had
+seen his effort to examine the contents of her handbag, that her
+weakness, her call for a stimulant of some sort had been but clever
+acting, and that she had purposely sent him into the drug store in order
+that she might escape. He blamed himself, utterly and completely, for
+his amazing stupidity in not realizing that the woman, instead of
+ordering the cabman to drive away, had only to slip out through the door
+on the opposite side of the vehicle, and vanish in the darkness.
+
+And this she had quite evidently done. The door of the cab opposite him
+stood open. No doubt she had purposely refrained from closing it,
+fearing that the click of the lock might attract the driver's attention.
+The latter with his eyes following Duvall, as the detective entered the
+store, had remained serenely unconscious of his passenger's movements,
+her clever escape.
+
+At least three or four minutes had elapsed. Duvall glanced up and down
+the street, but no sight of the vanished woman greeted his anxious gaze.
+She had had ample time to reach the next corner, and disappear in the
+darkness. Thoughts of pursuit entered his mind, but he realized at once
+the fruitlessness of such an attempt. His captive might have fled east
+or west, at either of the streets north or south of where he stood. Or
+she might have entered some restaurant, some motion picture house, or
+other convenient doorway along the Avenue. She might even have boarded a
+Sixth Avenue car, or hailed a passing cab. He looked up at the
+chauffeur, who still sat at his steering wheel, totally unaware of the
+flight of one of his passengers.
+
+"The woman has gone," Duvall exclaimed, nodding toward the vacant cab.
+
+The man turned in complete surprise. He seemed scarcely able to credit
+the evidence of his senses.
+
+"I--why sir--she was here just a moment ago, sir," he gasped, gazing
+into the interior of the cab as though he expected its recent occupant
+to suddenly materialize in the flesh.
+
+"She got out on the other side, while I was in the store," Duvall
+remarked, shortly, then taking an electric searchlight from his pocket,
+made a thorough examination of the interior of the cab. He scarcely
+expected to find anything, although it flashed through his mind that the
+woman, in her hurry to escape, might have left her bag, her gloves, or
+something that might afford him a clue to her identity.
+
+At first he saw nothing. Then, as his eyes became more accustomed to the
+brilliant glare of the electric torch, he observed a bit of white
+cardboard lying on the floor. It looked like a visiting card, and he
+snatched it up, devoutly hoping that it had fallen from the woman's bag
+during the attempt he had made to rifle it.
+
+Under the light of his pocket lamp he made a quick examination of his
+find. It proved a lamentable disappointment. It was in fact a visiting
+card, or to be more correct, the torn half of one, but what was engraved
+upon it afforded him not the least clue to either the identity or the
+address of the woman he sought. On the first line were the words, "Miss
+Mar"--then came the torn edge of the card. On the second line there was
+but the figure 1, and then the break.
+
+Was the name so tantalizingly suggested by the letters before him "Miss
+Mary" something or other? Or "Miss Margaret?" Or was it "Miss Martin,"
+or "Miss Marvin," or "Miss Marbury," or any one of a score of other
+names beginning with the letters "Mar?" And what was the missing
+address? What numbers followed the figure 1, on that part of the card
+that had been torn off? And what was the name of the street? He realized
+at once that while what he had found might, under certain circumstances,
+act as a suggestion, it would not serve to get him very far, unless
+reinforced by other and more definite evidence. He thought for a moment
+of securing from Mr. Baker a list of the women employees of the studio.
+It was true, he remembered, that his prisoner had not been seated in
+that particular section of the house reserved for the company's
+employees, but that might have readily come from the fact that the
+section was fully occupied when she arrived. Then, as more names
+beginning with "Mar" occurred to him, the futility of the idea became
+apparent. Apart from any possible number of Marys, and Margarets there
+were Martha, Maria, Marcia, Marian, Marcella--others perhaps. Of course
+he would be able to recognize the woman, if he saw her, but she would be
+too clever to return to her place in the studio the following day, if by
+any chance she worked there, knowing, as she must inevitably know, that
+she would be identified at once.
+
+Still, there was of course the chance that Mr. Baker might have
+recognized her. He presumably knew all the employees of his company by
+sight. Duvall got into the cab with a mortifying sense of having made a
+very foolish blunder, and directed the cabman to drive him back to the
+Grand Theater.
+
+Mr. Baker was waiting in the lobby when the detective arrived, and at a
+nod from the latter the two men retired to the dressing room in which
+they had had their previous consultation. The moving picture man's face
+was eager, expectant, as he waited for Duvall to speak, and the latter
+felt his chagrin increase by the moment.
+
+When he had at last finished his account of the affair, Mr. Baker looked
+exceedingly grave.
+
+"Too bad--too bad," he muttered, "to have had her in our hands like
+that, and then, to lose her."
+
+"Did you ever see the woman before?" Duvall questioned.
+
+"No. Of course she might be in our employ, but I doubt it, although I
+could not be expected to know by sight every girl who works in the
+plant. There are stenographers, film cutters and pasters, dozens of
+others, that I do not engage directly, and never see. Let me look at the
+card."
+
+Duvall handed the torn bit of pasteboard to him.
+
+"Not much to go on," he said, quietly.
+
+"No. Not much."
+
+"Of course," the detective went on, "the evening has not been entirely
+wasted. We know the woman by sight, and that is a great deal. As for her
+name, I have made a careful study of this card, and assuming it to have
+been of the usual length in comparison to its width, the name following
+the 'Miss,' if it was a first name, points to a very short one, such as
+Mary, and not a long one, such as Margaret."
+
+"How do you make that out?"
+
+"Simply enough. The entire name would of course have been placed in the
+center of the card, which was, it appears, torn almost exactly in half.
+On the left-hand side, which we have in our possession, there are, in
+the word 'Miss,' four letters, and in 'Mar' three, or seven in all. We
+should correspondingly expect to find seven letters on the right or
+missing half of the card. But were the first name Margaret, or Marcella,
+which each contain eight letters, or five to be added to the 'Mar' we
+already have, it would leave but two letters for the woman's last name,
+and names of that length, or rather shortness, are so rare as to be
+negligible. It is far more probable that we have but to add a 'y' to the
+'Mar,' or one letter, leaving six for the last name. This would give us
+'Miss Mar-y Gordon,' with the name evenly divided by the tear. Or, if by
+chance, the first name is such a one as Marian, containing six letters,
+we need add but the 'ian,' or three letters, to the left-hand side of
+our card, leaving us four letters for the last name. Thus, Miss Marian
+Kent. The full name on the card should have just fourteen letters,
+provided the card is, as I conclude, torn exactly in half."
+
+"Why do you conclude that?"
+
+"Because visiting cards of this sort are usually made in standard sizes.
+I happen to have a woman's card--Miss Morton's, in fact, in my pocket.
+Its width is the same as that of the torn card, and if the latter was of
+the same length, you can readily see that it was torn exactly in half."
+He took a card from his wallet and laid the torn bit of pasteboard upon
+it. Their widths were identical. The whole card was just twice the
+length of the torn one.
+
+"That is a most interesting deduction," Baker exclaimed. "What use can
+we make of it?"
+
+"I will tell you. You have your car here, have you not?"
+
+"Yes."
+
+"Then I suggest that we run down to the studio at once, get your list of
+employees, examine the name of every woman upon it, and see if we cannot
+find one of fourteen letters, including the 'Miss,' of which the first
+name begins with 'Mar.' The chances are that we will be able to locate
+the name immediately."
+
+"Yes," Mr. Baker exclaimed, rising in some excitement, "but, as you have
+before said, the woman, if she works for us, will not dare to appear in
+the morning, for fear that she will be recognized at once."
+
+"That is true, but you will no doubt have on your books her home
+address. If we hurry, we can get there and back by midnight, and we may
+be able to place our hands on the woman before she can have time to
+escape."
+
+Mr. Baker reached the door in two steps.
+
+"Come along," he said. "We'll burn up the roads."
+
+The two men said little, during their long ride. When they reached the
+entrance to the dark and silent studio building, only the night watchman
+appeared to greet them.
+
+Inside the building, however, there were more signs of life. Some stage
+carpenters were busy, working overtime on a piece of scenery. In the
+developing and drying departments were also signs of activity. Mr. Baker
+led the way to his office. "It happens," he said, "that as I am obliged
+to O. K. the payroll each week, I have a list of our employees in my
+desk." As he spoke, he took his keys, opened a drawer, and drew out a
+small red book.
+
+"Here is the list, with the home addresses," he said. "How shall we go
+to work?"
+
+"Read me all the women's names, in which the first name begins with
+'Mar,'" Duvall said. "I will put them down on a sheet of paper." He drew
+a pad toward him, took out his pencil, and the two set to work.
+
+When they had at last reached the end of the book, both Duvall and Mr.
+Baker were surprised to find that the names they had picked out were so
+few. In all there were but eight, as follows:
+
+      Miss Mary Sollenberger,
+      Miss Mary Green,
+      Miss Margaret Schwartz,
+      Miss Maria Rosenheim,
+      Miss Martha Simmons,
+      Miss Marcia Ford,
+      Miss Marian Greenberg,
+      Miss Mary King.
+
+Duvall ran his pencil down the list of names. "There is but one that
+fulfills the requirements," he announced. "The sixth name, that of Miss
+Marcia Ford, contains in all fourteen letters. None of the others do.
+Two, those of Miss King and Miss Green, come the nearest. Miss King's
+full name contains twelve letters, Miss Green's, thirteen. Any one of
+the three _might_ be the one we seek."
+
+"I can answer for Miss King at once," said Mr. Baker, quietly. "She is
+my stenographer, and most certainly _not_ the woman who was in the
+theater to-night."
+
+"That leaves then, Miss Green and Miss Ford. What do they do, and what
+are their addresses?"
+
+Mr. Baker referred to his book.
+
+"Miss Green is a telephone operator. Her address is given here as 310
+Gold Street, Brooklyn. Miss Ford is a film cutter, and lives at 122 West
+9th Street, New York."
+
+"Neither sounds particularly promising," Duvall remarked, with a frown.
+
+"No. But of course we are assuming that the woman in question works in
+the studio. If she does _not_, our whole fabric falls to pieces." Duvall
+took the torn piece of card from his pocket and glanced at it.
+
+"The address given here begins with the number 1," he said,
+significantly. "It may be that Miss Marcia Ford, of 122 West Ninth
+Street, is the woman we are looking for, although I confess I should
+have suspected some rival motion picture star, rather than a film
+cutter."
+
+"By George, I forgot the fact that the card had an address on it," Baker
+exclaimed. "I think we had better look up Miss Ford at once."
+
+"I agree with you," Duvall said. A few moments later they were driving
+at top speed back toward New York.
+
+It was five minutes to twelve when they reached the corner of Fifth
+Avenue and Ninth Street and turned west. Duvall realized that they were
+following a very slim clue, but it seemed for the moment the only
+promising one they had.
+
+The house, No. 122, proved to be a typical high stooped, brownstone
+boarding house of this section of the city. It was for the most part
+dark, although one or two of the upper windows showed lights.
+
+Accompanied by Baker, Duvall quickly mounted the steps and rang the
+bell. At first there was no answer, although they could hear the sound
+of the bell tinkling mournfully inside. A second summons brought no
+greater response. At the third, a woman's head appeared in one of the
+upper windows, and they heard a shrill and not over pleasant voice
+asking them what they wanted.
+
+"I have an important message for Miss Marcia Ford," Duvall replied
+pleasantly. "I must see her at once."
+
+"Miss Ford moved away from here three months ago," the woman snapped.
+
+"Will you please give me her present address?" the detective exclaimed,
+somewhat taken aback.
+
+"I don't know it. She didn't say where she was going. Good night!" A
+moment later the window above them was closed with a slam.
+
+The two men stood staring at each other in the utmost disappointment.
+They had expected a more favorable outcome of their expedition.
+
+"How long has she been with you?" Duvall asked, turning to his
+companion.
+
+"I don't know. Certainly over three months, or we shouldn't have this
+address on our books. I suppose, when she changed it, she omitted to
+notify us. What are we going to do now?"
+
+"There isn't anything we can do, until morning. If Miss Marcia Ford
+reports for work to-morrow, and you see that she is the woman who
+fainted in the theater to-night, have her arrested at once. If she
+doesn't report for work, at least we shall know that she is the woman we
+are after."
+
+"That isn't much consolation," Mr. Baker grumbled.
+
+"I don't agree with you. Having the woman's name, knowing her
+appearance, we are certain to catch her, sooner or later. And in the
+meanwhile, I do not think that she will attempt anything further so far
+as Miss Morton is concerned. We are too close on her trail, for that."
+
+"I hope you are right," said the motion picture man. "Well, I guess I'll
+go along home. I'll be at the studio first thing in the morning,
+however, and I suppose you will be there too."
+
+"By all means. I am most curious to see whether our reasoning to-night
+has been correct."
+
+"Shall I take you to your hotel in my car?"
+
+"No, thanks. I'll take a taxi. Good night."
+
+"Good night."
+
+A few moments later, Duvall was speeding up Fifth Avenue, his brain
+still puzzling over the curious contradictions which the events of the
+night had developed. On one point he felt secure, however. He was
+certain that the woman who had so narrowly escaped him earlier in the
+evening would not soon again attempt anything against Ruth Morton.
+
+Arrived at his hotel, he asked for his key. The man behind the desk,
+with a queer look, handed him along with it a slip of paper. On it was
+written: "Mrs. Bradley wishes Mr. John Bradley to come to her room at
+the moment he returns."
+
+"When was this message left?" the detective asked.
+
+"Oh--nearly two hours ago. The time is stamped on the back of it, sir."
+
+Duvall turned the card over, and saw from the stamp on the other side
+that Mrs. Morton had sent for him at half past ten.
+
+"The message was phoned down by the lady herself," the clerk added, by
+way of explanation.
+
+Duvall went up in the elevator, and a few moments later, was knocking at
+the door of Mrs. Morton's suite.
+
+The latter herself appeared in the doorway. She was pale and agitated.
+"Come in, Mr. Duvall," she said.
+
+The detective entered, closing the door behind him.
+
+"What is wrong, Mrs. Morton?" he asked.
+
+"There has been another warning--a dreadful one," the older woman
+exclaimed, her voice trembling. "It came a little after ten."
+
+"What was it?" Duvall's voice was almost as strained as that of the
+woman before him. Her words came to him as a complete surprise. Had all
+the work of the evening, then, been wasted?
+
+"At a little after ten," Mrs. Morton said slowly, "I sent my maid Nora
+out for some medicine for my daughter. She went to a drug store some
+three blocks away. As she returned to the hotel, she saw a young woman
+standing near the entrance, apparently watching those who went in and
+out. As soon as the maid came up to the doorway, the woman stepped up to
+her, and thrusting a package into her hands, said quickly, 'Give this to
+Miss Ruth Morton. It is from the studio.' Then she walked away at once.
+
+"Nora, as she tells me, did not know just what to do. You will remember
+that while she realizes from our presence here under an assumed name,
+that something is wrong, she knows little or nothing of the
+circumstances surrounding Ruth's terrible persecution. Hence she
+foolishly took both the medicine and the package the woman had given
+her, to my daughter."
+
+"Yes--yes--go on," Duvall exclaimed, seeing Mrs. Morton pause.
+
+"Ruth opened them both. I was in the next room at the moment. Suddenly I
+heard a cry, and on rushing in, found her standing in the center of the
+room, holding a small bottle in one hand, and staring at it in the
+utmost consternation. In her other hand was a sheet of paper, which, as
+I subsequently found, had been wrapped around the bottle, inside the
+outer brown-paper cover.
+
+"The bottle was labeled 'carbolic acid.' Here is the sheet of paper."
+Mrs. Morton, with trembling fingers, extended a half sheet of note-paper
+toward the detective.
+
+Duvall took it and read the typewritten words upon it.
+
+"We gave you thirty days. Now we give you seven. Drink this, and save
+yourself from a horrible fate." The death's head signature ended the
+message. "Ruth has been very ill ever since," Mrs. Morton added
+drearily. "If she is not better in the morning, I shall call in a
+doctor. She felt herself absolutely safe, here, and was recovering her
+cheerfulness. Now all her fears have returned with redoubled force. I am
+terribly worried about her--terribly worried." Taking out her
+handkerchief, the poor woman wiped the tears from her eyes. "How could
+these people have known we were here?" she whispered, in an awed voice.
+"It seems like the work of fiends."
+
+There was little that the detective could say in reply. Even to his
+sober judgment, there came a suggestion of the uncanny, the
+supernatural. The woman in the cab had escaped at half past nine,
+presumably quite ignorant of the location of Mrs. Morton's retreat. Half
+an hour later, the campaign of intimidation was renewed with greater
+vigor than before.
+
+"I'm afraid, Mrs. Morton," he said, "that it will be necessary for you
+to remain with your daughter every minute of the time, for a day or two.
+By then, I am convinced that we shall have laid our hands on the guilty
+parties. Good night."
+
+Duvall rose very early the following morning, and drove at once to the
+studio, but early as he was, Mr. Baker was there before him.
+
+The latter was seated in his office, poring over a mass of reports, when
+Duvall entered. He glanced up, rose, shook hands nervously, then
+motioned to a chair.
+
+"Nothing new yet," he said. "My stenographer, Miss King, is here.
+Neither Miss Green nor Miss Ford have yet arrived, but it is still a
+little early. Miss King came before her usual time, as she had some
+reports to get out that she could not complete last night. We have at
+least fifteen minutes to wait."
+
+Duvall told him to proceed with his work, and drawing a newspaper from
+his pocket, made an effort to interest himself in it. In this, however,
+he was not very successful. Time after time his mind would wander from
+the printed sheet before him to the strange events of the night before.
+The thing that puzzled him most was, how did the persecutors of Miss
+Morton discover her new address so soon? Was the woman who had handed
+the package to Nora, the maid, the same one that had vanished from the
+cab? He remembered that it had been about nine o'clock when they left
+the Grand Theater, and perhaps half-past when he had gone into the drug
+store in Sixth Avenue to get the aromatic spirits of ammonia. Had the
+woman gone directly from the cab to the hotel? She must have done so,
+without much loss of time, in order to reach there by ten o'clock. How
+had she known the address? He knew very well that he had given it to the
+cabman, when they started away from the theater. Had the supposedly
+fainting woman overheard his words? If she had, and had so promptly
+acted upon them, she was far more clever and determined than her
+appearance would seem to warrant. He revolved the matter endlessly in
+his mind, waiting for Mr. Baker to announce that the time had come, when
+Miss Ford's or Miss Green's arrival or non-arrival would indicate which
+of the two, if either, was the woman they sought.
+
+Suddenly the bell of the telephone on Mr. Baker's desk ran sharply. He
+answered it, then turned to Duvall.
+
+"Miss Green, the telephone operator, is at her desk," he said. "Would
+you like to take a look at her?"
+
+"Yes." The detective arose, and followed Mr. Baker into the corridor.
+The switchboard of the building was located at the end of the hall, in a
+small bare room. When they reached it, Mr. Baker spoke to a dark-haired,
+rather stout, woman who sat at the desk.
+
+"Miss Green," he said, "if any calls come in for Mr. Duvall, he will be
+in my office." Then he went back along the corridor.
+
+"She certainly isn't the woman we are after," he remarked to Duvall, as
+soon as they were out of earshot.
+
+"No. It must be Miss Ford," the detective replied.
+
+"Suppose we go to the developing and finishing department," Baker
+suggested. "It is time all our people were on hand. Mr. Emmett, who is
+in charge there, can tell us about Miss Ford."
+
+They crossed to the other side of the building, and entered a small
+office. A bald-headed man sat at a littered desk.
+
+"Mr. Emmett," Baker said, "shake hands with Mr. Duvall. He is looking
+for a young woman in the finishing department. Miss Marcia Ford. Has she
+come in yet?"
+
+"No," replied the bald-headed man, gravely shaking hands. "She is not
+here this morning. It is rather surprising, too, for she usually is on
+time."
+
+"What sort of a looking woman is she?" Duvall inquired.
+
+"Oh--a rather insignificant looking girl of about twenty-five. Small,
+slender, not very prepossessing, but clever--enormously clever. One of
+the best film cutters we have. I should be sorry to lose her."
+
+"Light blue eyes, and light hair," Duvall questioned. "And a thin,
+rather cruel mouth?"
+
+"Exactly. But why? Has she gotten into any trouble?"
+
+"No--I hope not. I merely wanted to see her."
+
+"Well--of course she may show up later, although as I say she has
+usually been very punctual. I shouldn't be surprised if she is sick.
+She's been acting rather peculiarly, the past few days."
+
+"How so?" asked Duvall, quickly.
+
+"I can't say--exactly. I got the impression from her manner that she was
+nervous, excited, out of sorts. Merely an impression, but such things
+count."
+
+"Telephone me, Emmett," Mr. Baker said, "if she comes in during the next
+hour. Come along, Mr. Duvall, you can wait in my office."
+
+They returned to the other side of the immense building, and Duvall sat
+down to wait. He felt sure that they were on the right track, and was
+impatient to get back to New York and try to locate the missing woman.
+The description given by Mr. Emmett left little doubt in his mind that
+she and Miss Marcia Ford were one and the same. He sat in Mr. Baker's
+office, reading the paper, waiting anxiously for the hour the latter had
+specified to pass.
+
+After what seemed an interminable wait, Mr. Baker glanced at his watch,
+then rose.
+
+"It is ten o'clock, Mr. Duvall," he announced. "Miss Ford has not come,
+or Mr. Emmett would have notified me. I do not see that there is
+anything further to be accomplished here."
+
+As he spoke, the telephone bell rang sharply. Mr. Baker picked up the
+receiver, listened intently for a few moments, then slammed the receiver
+back upon the hook.
+
+"Hell!" he ejaculated softly.
+
+"What is it?" Duvall asked.
+
+"Miss Ford has just reported for work!"
+
+
+
+
+PART III
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER XII
+
+
+The announcement, made by Mr. Baker, that Miss Marcia Ford, the film
+cutter, had reported for work, filled Duvall with astonishment. He had
+expected nothing of the sort, so convinced was he that the girl in
+question was the one they were looking for, the one who had been
+persecuting Ruth Morton, the motion picture star, with her threats.
+
+He rose from his seat, in Mr. Baker's office at the studio, and turned
+toward the door. "If Miss Ford has reported for work," he said, "I had
+better take a look at her at once. If she is the woman who escaped from
+the cab, last night, I shall have no difficulty in recognizing her. But
+I am afraid it is out of the question. Knowing that both you and I had
+seen her, when she fainted at the theater, she would not dare to put in
+an appearance here to-day. The thing is utterly incomprehensible.
+
+"Still, she might suppose that we would not suspect her, that she could
+carry on her work in the studio without anyone being the wiser. I seldom
+go into that part of the building, myself, and she would certainly not
+expect to see you. In fact, it may not have occurred to her that we
+suspect one of our employees, in spite of the stolen photograph or the
+fake telegram."
+
+"Suppose we take a look at her at once. That will settle the whole
+question," Duvall urged.
+
+"Very well." Mr. Baker closed his desk and the two men crossed the
+corridor and made their way into that part of the studio building
+devoted to the developing and finishing of the films.
+
+Mr. Emmett, the head of the department, was seated at his desk when they
+arrived.
+
+"So the Ford girl is here," Baker said at once.
+
+"Yes, sir. She came in about ten minutes ago, explaining her lateness by
+saying that she was ill, when she got up this morning, and was not sure
+that she could get here at all. Shall I send for her?"
+
+"No," Duvall interposed quickly. "Pardon me, Mr. Baker," he turned to
+the latter, "but if we send for this girl, it will arouse her
+suspicions. Of course I do not think she is the woman we are looking
+for, but she may be in league with her. Would it not be better to have
+Mr. Emmett and yourself conduct me through the room in which she works,
+as though I were a visitor to the studio? You can readily point her out
+to me as we pass, and that will give me ample opportunity to recognize
+her, in case I have ever seen her before."
+
+"I think that a very good idea," returned Baker. He said a few words to
+Mr. Emmett, and the three men set out to go through the rooms in which
+the film cutting and pasting were done.
+
+At one of the tables a girl of about twenty was at work. As they passed,
+Mr. Emmett turned his head and nodded. The girl did not look up, and the
+three men continued their way through the room.
+
+When they again reached the hall, Mr. Baker turned to Duvall.
+
+"Well?" he questioned.
+
+"It is not the woman," the detective said. "I did not suppose it would
+be. There is some slight resemblance, of course. The color of the eyes
+and hair is the same, and the features are somewhat alike. However, I am
+very much afraid, Mr. Baker, that I have wasted both your time and mine.
+And yet, I cannot get over my original impression, that the person
+responsible for these threats is connected, in some way, with your
+company."
+
+Baker, puzzled and disappointed as well, led the way back to his office.
+Duvall, however, when they reached it, did not enter.
+
+"I shall not remain any longer, at present," he said. "I have an idea
+that I can accomplish more in town. Perhaps I may discover something
+there--some clue, that will enable us to make progress. I have a plan
+that may result in something."
+
+"What is it?" Mr. Baker asked.
+
+"I prefer not to say yet. If anything develops, I will let you know.
+Good day."
+
+The taxicab in which he had made the trip down was still waiting for
+him. An hour later he had reached his hotel.
+
+The disguise of the night before he had discarded. The woman in the cab
+had penetrated it. His presence, and that of Mrs. Morton, at the uptown
+hotel, was known. There seemed to be no further purpose, for the
+present, in attempting to preserve his incognito. He went to his room at
+once, and knocked on the door which separated it from the apartment of
+Mrs. Morton and her daughter. The door was opened by the maid, who
+ushered him into the little parlor.
+
+"I will tell Mrs. Morton that you are here," the girl said, and went
+into the next room.
+
+Mrs. Morton came out presently, her face pale and drawn. Duvall knew at
+once that she had been up all night, watching, no doubt, beside her
+daughter.
+
+"How is Miss Ruth?" he asked.
+
+"She is better. She had a fairly good night's rest, and her fever has
+left her."
+
+"I am glad to hear that. I hope there have been no further threats."
+
+"No. Not yet. But I never know at what moment something may happen. It
+is terrible--terrible, living under a shadow like this."
+
+As she spoke, the telephone bell rang.
+
+"You answer it, Mr. Duvall," she said, turning quickly to the door by
+which she had entered, and closing it. "I do not think I can stand
+anything more at present."
+
+Duvall took down the receiver. Someone was asking for Mr. John Bradley.
+
+"This is Mr. Bradley," he said, then suddenly recognized his wife's
+voice. "Is this you, Richard?" she asked.
+
+"Yes. What is it?"
+
+"If you have time, to-day, come down and see me. I have something I want
+to tell you. Something important."
+
+"Very well. I will be there in half an hour. Good-by." He hung up the
+receiver.
+
+"Was it anything--anything _more_, Mr. Duvall?" asked Mrs. Morton.
+
+"No. Nothing of that sort. Well, I must go along now. I merely looked in
+to ask after your daughter. There is one thing I want you to do,
+however, and that is, let me have a key to your apartment on 57th
+Street."
+
+Mrs. Morton took the key from her purse, and handed it to him.
+
+"Haven't you any good news, yet?" she asked, somewhat pathetically.
+
+"Not yet--at least nothing very definite. I know the woman who is
+annoying your daughter by sight, however, and I think I can safely
+assure you that she will be under arrest before very long. Matters of
+this sort take time, Mrs. Morton. Remember that I have had charge of the
+case but three days, and these people we are looking for are shrewd,
+leaving few clues. But I feel that I shall have something definite to
+report very soon now."
+
+"I hope so, I'm sure. Good day."
+
+"Good day." Duvall left the room, and taking a taxi, drove down to see
+Grace.
+
+He found her sitting at the writing desk, in the reception room of their
+suite, apparently busy over a letter. She pushed the sheet of paper
+aside, when her husband entered, and threw her arms about his neck.
+
+"Richard!" she exclaimed, "I'm so glad to see you. It has been ages.
+What's the matter with you? You look dreadfully blue."
+
+Duvall threw himself into a chair.
+
+"I'm a bit disgusted with myself," he said.
+
+"What about? I may ask you now, may I not? Is it about that wretched
+Morton case? I must talk to you about that. May I? You see, you rather
+got me into it, last night, and I got myself into it, too, by coming up
+to your hotel to see you, and now you've got to tell me how things
+turned out, after you left the theater, or I shall not know just what to
+do."
+
+"About what?"
+
+"I'll tell you that, after I hear about last night."
+
+Duvall laughed, although a trifle grimly.
+
+"I'm not particularly proud of last night," he said.
+
+"Wasn't the woman who fainted the one you were after?" asked Grace.
+
+"Yes. I'm sure she was. But unfortunately, she got away from me." He
+outlined to Grace the circumstances which led up to the woman's escape
+from the cab.
+
+"You say she was a small, slight woman, with light hair?"
+
+"Yes. Why?"
+
+"Then I may know something about her."
+
+"What?"
+
+"I'll tell you. You remember that, when I came up to see you at the
+hotel yesterday afternoon, you were greatly put out, because you were
+afraid that I might have been followed, thus disclosing the name of your
+hotel to these people you are trying to avoid?"
+
+"Yes. I was afraid of it. And the people in question did find out in
+some way where I had taken Miss Morton and her mother, as I discovered
+last night."
+
+"They did not discover it through me."
+
+"How do you know?"
+
+"It came about in a curious way. After you told me, over the telephone,
+that you feared I might have been followed, I looked up the taxi driver
+who took me uptown, and asked him if anyone had tried to question him. I
+thought that possibly this hotel might have been watched, and, if so,
+the person who was watching it might have noticed the number of my car,
+or the driver, and later, applied to him for information. I saw him as
+soon as I returned. No one had done so."
+
+"That is all very well, but they might have asked him, and found out
+where he drove you, later."
+
+"They did ask him, later. Why is it, Richard, that you seem to forget
+that I have done detective work before, too? I suspected that he might
+be approached, and I subsidized him--gave him ten dollars, and
+instructed him to let me know, in case anyone questioned him about me.
+
+"Well, late yesterday afternoon, a woman, answering the description you
+give, did apply to the cabman to find out where he had driven me.
+Naturally he told her nothing. Then, thinking, I suppose, that I might
+repeat my visit, she gave him five dollars, and told him to let her know
+in case I drove from here to any other hotel. She figured, no doubt,
+that being your wife, I was certain to go and see you."
+
+Duvall sat forward in his chair, an eager look upon his face.
+
+"You did splendidly, Grace," he said. "Much better than I have done. But
+the important point is this. How was the cabman to let her know, and
+where? Did she give him her name and address?"
+
+"She gave him a name and address. It is about that, that I wanted to see
+you."
+
+"What was it?"
+
+"Alice Watson. General Delivery. He was to write her a letter."
+
+Duvall sank back in his chair with a disappointed look.
+
+"An assumed name, of course," he said. "I'm afraid it won't be of much
+service to us."
+
+"But why? I was going to write this woman a letter, giving her the name
+of some other hotel--any one would do. Then, she would come there to
+find you, we could have the cabman, Leary, on watch to point her out,
+and in that way identify her and perhaps follow her to her home." Duvall
+shook his head.
+
+"It would have worked splendidly, my dear," he said, "except for the
+fact that in some way the woman has already discovered the name of my
+hotel. She will not go to the general delivery window at the post office
+to get it, now, for she already knows it. And if she did, she would
+realize as soon as she read your letter that you were not telling her
+the truth. Is that what you have been so busy about?" He glanced at the
+half-finished letter that lay on his wife's desk.
+
+"Yes." Grace looked at him rather sheepishly. "I am terribly
+disappointed," she said. "I really hoped that I had discovered something
+that would help you." She took from the desk the piece of paper that
+contained Alice Watson's address, and tearing it into bits, dropped them
+slowly into the waste basket.
+
+Duvall observed her action.
+
+"What are you tearing up?" he asked.
+
+"Oh, nothing. Merely the bit of paper that contained the woman's assumed
+name and address. It is of no use any longer." She glanced at a scrap of
+the paper, about half an inch square, that remained between her fingers,
+then started. "There must have been something on the other side," she
+exclaimed. "There's a part of a name here--printed or engraved. It looks
+like 'Ford.'"
+
+Duvall sprang from his chair and made a dive for the scrap basket.
+
+"Ford!" he exclaimed. "That's queer! We must get every scrap of that
+card at once."
+
+It took the two of them several minutes to gather from the basket the
+tiny pieces into which Grace had torn the bit of paper. Then they fitted
+them together. Duvall saw at once, as soon as he picked up the first
+scrap, that the address had been written on a card. When the several
+pieces had at last been assembled upon the top of the desk, it became
+quite clear that the Watson name and address had been hastily scrawled
+upon the torn half of a visiting card. Slowly and carefully Duvall
+turned the bits over. The words engraved upon the opposite side filled
+him with delight.
+
+There were first the letters "cia," followed by the name "Ford." Beneath
+were two figures, a "6" and a "2," and after them, West 57th Street.
+
+Duvall gazed at the result in surprise, then taking from his pocketbook
+the torn half of the card he had found the night before in the cab, he
+laid it beside the fragments on the desk. The two fitted exactly. The
+name and address were both plain. Evidently the woman who had
+interviewed the cabman, Leary, and the woman who had escaped from the
+cab were one and the same. She had taken a card from her purse, torn it
+in half, written the "Alice Watson" address that she gave the cabman on
+one half, and thrust the other back into her handbag. Later, when Duvall
+had attempted to examine the contents of the bag, the bit of card had
+fallen to the floor. All that was sufficiently clear.
+
+Grace, looking over her husband's shoulder, read the completed name and
+address.
+
+"Miss Marcia Ford," she exclaimed. "162 West 57th Street. Why, Richard,
+there is the name and address of the woman you want."
+
+"It may be her address," her husband remarked, gloomily, "but it
+certainly isn't her name."
+
+"But--Why not?"
+
+"Because I saw Marcia Ford this morning, and _she isn't the woman_!"
+
+Grace looked at him in astonishment. "Are you sure?" she cried.
+
+"Perfectly. Marcia Ford is not the one we are after."
+
+"Then how do you explain the woman having a card with that name on it?"
+
+"I don't explain it--unless," he paused for a moment in thought. "Unless
+this Ford woman, and the other one, are in league with each other, which
+might account for the latter having her card in her purse."
+
+"And the address! Is that where Marcia Ford lives?"
+
+"I don't know. It may be where they both live, for all I can tell. I
+only hope it is." He rose and took up his hat.
+
+"Where are you going?" Grace asked.
+
+"To 162 West 57th Street." Suddenly he took his wallet from his pocket,
+snatched a second card from it, and after looking at it for a moment,
+gave an exclamation of delighted surprise.
+
+"What is it?" Grace asked quickly.
+
+He thrust the card into her hand. Grace glanced at it, without quite
+understanding what it meant.
+
+"I don't see what you mean," she exclaimed. "The thing is clear enough.
+The card I have just given you belongs to Miss Ruth Morton."
+
+"I see that, but----"
+
+"Then surely you must see that Miss Morton's apartment also is on
+Fifty-seventh Street, and just two doors from the address of Miss Marcia
+Ford!"
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER XIII
+
+
+Duvall, upon discovering that the address of Miss Marcia Ford was on
+West 57th Street, but two doors from the building in which the Morton
+apartment was located, began to feel that he was on the right track. He
+had known, ever since his first day upon the case, that the mysterious
+messages found in Ruth Morton's bedroom had been placed there by some
+ingenious but perfectly natural means. The apparition that had so
+startled the girl upon her last night at the flat was capable, of
+course, of some reasonable explanation. When he left Mr. Baker in the
+morning his plan had been to go to Mrs. Morton's apartment and once more
+investigate all possible means of entrance, hoping that, by finding out
+how the messages were delivered, he might also be able to find out by
+whom. It was for this reason that he had asked Mrs. Morton for the key
+to the apartment.
+
+Now the question seemed in a fair way to being answered for him. The
+fact that this girl's room was located so near to the Mortons' apartment
+could not be a mere coincidence. There must be, between her room and the
+Morton flat some means of communication, although of what nature he
+could not now surmise. Fully convinced, however, that he might very soon
+find out, he hurried up to Fifty-seventh Street and walked along until
+he reached No. 162.
+
+The house was, like that which immediately adjoined the apartment
+building, an old-fashioned one, of brown stone, with a high front stoop.
+It presented an appearance which, if not exactly dilapidated, was yet in
+strong contrast to the neat appearance of its neighbors. A printed card
+in one of the lower front windows indicated that roomers were wanted.
+
+It was just the sort of place that Duvall had expected to find--just the
+sort of place in which a working girl like Marcia Ford would live.
+Located in a very excellent neighborhood, surrounded by apartment
+buildings and houses of the best type, it still could afford to rent
+rooms at the moderate figure that one of her class could pay. He went up
+the front steps and rang the bell. "Is Miss Ford in? Miss Marcia Ford?"
+he asked.
+
+The servant who came to the door, a neatly dressed German girl, shook
+her head.
+
+"No, Miss Ford is not in. She usually gets back about half past six."
+
+Duvall glanced at his watch. It was not yet three o'clock. He realized
+that he had a long wait before him.
+
+"Will you leave any message?" the girl asked.
+
+"No. It is not important. I will come back." Descending the steps he
+walked slowly in the direction of the apartment building, two doors
+away.
+
+Entering, he made his way to Mrs. Morton's apartment. The place was just
+as they had left it, two days before. The windows had all been tightly
+closed and fastened, and there were no further mysterious messages lying
+about. Once more Duvall went to Ruth Morton's room, and opening the two
+windows looked out.
+
+His investigations, however, told him no more than he had learned
+before. The three dormer windows in the home next door gazed vacantly
+down at him, their windows covered with cobwebs and dust. The
+impossibility of anyone making their way from even the nearest of them,
+to the window where he stood, was manifest. And that a long rod or pole
+could have been utilized to introduce the letters into the girl's room
+was even more impossible. He shook his head, then turned to the other
+window, that facing upon the fire escape.
+
+Here, as on the occasion of his previous examination, the smooth glossy
+surface of the freshly dried paint showed no marks, except those he had
+himself made during his former visit. And yet, as his eyes searched the
+grated surface, he saw that there was something there, something that
+had not been there before. He reached out and picked it up.
+
+It was a woman's handkerchief, a tiny square of lace-edged linen, of an
+inexpensive variety. But it was not the mere presence of the
+handkerchief that so interested him. It might readily have belonged to
+Miss Morton herself, and have been accidentally dropped from the window.
+There were two things about this particular handkerchief, however, that
+marked it as a clue of the utmost value. One was the fact that in its
+corner was embroidered an initial, the letter "F." The other was that
+two of the corners of the handkerchief were knotted together, as though
+it had been tied about someone's wrist, for what reason, he could not
+imagine.
+
+The latter feature puzzled the detective greatly. He could not form any
+hypothesis to account for it. If the Ford woman, as indicated by the
+presence of the handkerchief, marked with an "F," had been on the
+fire-escape, why were there no tell-tale marks to indicate it? And if
+she had not been there, why was her handkerchief found there, knotted in
+this peculiar way? Had it formed part of some apparatus, some device,
+made of a pole and a cord, for inserting the threatening letters through
+the window? If so, it might, of course, have become detached while the
+device was being used. Duvall remembered that he had not examined the
+fire escape on the night when the astonishing apparition had appeared
+beside Ruth Morton's bed, _because the window opening on the fire escape
+had been closed and locked_. Had the handkerchief been left there then?
+He sat for a long time in the deserted library, trying to hit upon some
+reasonable theory to explain the matter, but his efforts resulted in
+failure. Not the least confusing feature of the affair was the fact that
+the woman, Marcia Ford, _was not the woman he was seeking_. He had seen
+her at the studio that morning, and knew that she was not the one who
+had escaped from the cab the night before. Were there then two working
+together? If so, he would, through the Ford girl, in all probability be
+able to trace her confederate. He waited patiently until the waning
+afternoon light told him that it was time to begin his watch before the
+house at number 162.
+
+Across the street a residence, closed for the summer, its front entrance
+boarded up, afforded him a convenient place to wait. He sat down upon
+the steps, and pretended to be occupied with a newspaper. His eyes,
+however, sought constantly the doorway opposite.
+
+A number of persons entered the place, during the next two hours, but
+Marcia Ford was not amongst them. As the darkness began to approach, and
+lights in the streets and houses flared up, Duvall rose, crossed the
+street, and stationed himself at a nearer point, from which he might the
+more certainly identify anyone entering the house. Miss Ford, however,
+failed to appear.
+
+From the sign in the window, to the effect that roomers were wanted,
+Duvall concluded that the Ford girl did not take her meals in the house.
+His watch showed him that it was nearly seven. Doubtless she had
+arranged to dine before returning home. In a flash it came to him that
+his opportunity to make an examination of her room was now at hand.
+
+To secure entrance to the room by the usual channels was clearly out of
+the question. The people at the boarding house would, of course, not
+permit it. But could he discover the means of communication, whatever
+they were, between Miss Morton's apartment and the girl's room, he might
+be able to enter the latter unknown and unobserved. He had thought of
+attempting this during the afternoon, but realized that he could not
+hope to accomplish it, in broad daylight, without being seen by the
+occupants of the neighboring buildings, and perhaps arrested as a
+burglar or sneak thief.
+
+With a last glance down the street, he hastened back to the apartment
+building and made his way to Mrs. Morton's flat. Passing quickly through
+Ruth Morton's bedroom, he climbed out upon the fire escape and looked
+about.
+
+Below him were the rear yards of the houses fronting on the next street.
+To the right he could see the bulk of the apartment building, blocking
+his view of the avenue beyond. To the left were the rear buildings of
+the adjoining houses. It was quite dark, the sky was starless, but all
+about him gleamed the lights in the windows of the neighboring
+buildings.
+
+Neither to the right, nor to the left was there any possible way by
+which access to the point where he now stood could be gained. From
+below, it was possible, although his previous examination had showed him
+both the fact that the newly painted surface of the fire escape was
+unmarred, and that the ladder at the lower floor was drawn up some nine
+or ten feet from the ground. He felt certain that Miss Ford had not
+reached Ruth's room in that way.
+
+He glanced upward. The fire escaped stopped at the level of the floor
+above. To ascend from it to the roof was impossible.
+
+Remembering that the top apartment was vacant, Duvall re-entered the
+building and hunting up the janitor, told him that he desired to get out
+on the roof.
+
+The man remembered him, from his first visit, and the inquiries he had
+then made about the tenants of the apartment above.
+
+"I am making some special inquiries on Mrs. Morton's behalf," he
+explained. "You can go with me, if you like, to see that I do nothing I
+shouldn't."
+
+The janitor joined in his laugh.
+
+"I'm not worrying," he rejoined, "but I'll go along, just the same, to
+show you the way." He led the detective up one flight of stairs and,
+going to the end of the outer hall, unlocked and opened a small door
+beside the elevator shaft. A short spiral staircase was disclosed.
+
+Snapping on an electric light, the man ascended the steps, and, after
+fumbling for a moment with the catch, threw open a trapdoor leading to
+the roof. In a moment both he and Duvall had climbed out upon the tiled
+surface. Duvall went to the edge which overlooked the house adjoining,
+and peered down. He at once saw something that interested him.
+
+The house with the dormer windows consisted, as has been previously
+mentioned, of four stories and an attic. Its roof rose several feet
+above the level of the window of Ruth's room, which was on the fourth
+floor of the apartment building. But Duvall saw at once that this
+elevation of the adjoining house did not extend all the way back, but,
+in fact, stopped a little beyond the point where it joined the
+apartment. From here to the rear of the lot the building had no attic,
+its rear extension being but four stories high. In this position on the
+apartment-house roof, the roof of the back building was at least fifteen
+feet below him.
+
+Another thing that he noticed at once was the fact that the second
+house, No. 162, was of almost the same design as the first, that is, it
+consisted of a main building with an attic, and a rear extension,
+reaching to the same level as that of the house between. It was clear
+that if anyone living in the second house could obtain access to the
+roof of the back building, he would be able to walk across that of the
+first or adjoining house, and reach a point directly beneath where he
+stood.
+
+But, granting the possibility of this, of what use would it be? A person
+on the roof below him would in no conceivable way be able to reach
+either of the windows of Ruth Morton's room. Was it possible that an
+opening had been made through the wall of the apartment building itself?
+He thought it unlikely, but determined to investigate.
+
+"I must get down on that roof below," he informed his companion. The
+janitor grinned.
+
+"How are you going to do it?" he asked.
+
+"Haven't you a ladder--a rope?"
+
+The man thought a moment.
+
+"I've got a short ladder in the cellar, only about eight feet long, I
+guess. I'm afraid it would not do."
+
+"Yes it would," replied Duvall, pointing to the roof of the attic
+portion of the house below. "I'll get down to the roof of the main part
+of the house first, and from there to the roof of the back building. An
+eight-foot ladder will be long enough for that. Bring it up, will you?"
+
+The man hesitated.
+
+"I don't just like this idea of going on other people's roofs," he said.
+
+"You don't need to go. I've got to. I'm a detective, and I'm working for
+Mrs. Morton on a most important case." As he spoke, he took a bill from
+his pocket and pressed it into the man's hand.
+
+The janitor responded at once.
+
+"I'll fetch it up, sir," he said. "Wait for me here."
+
+Duvall occupied the few moments consumed by the janitor's absence in
+examining, by means of his pocket electric torch, the surface of the
+roof on which he stood. The smooth flat terra cotta tiles showed no
+distinguishing marks. Here and there spots of paint, marred by
+footprints, indicated where the painters at work on the building had set
+their buckets, no doubt while painting the wooden portions of the
+trapdoor, and the metal chimney-pots on the roof.
+
+The man returned in a few moments with the ladder, and Duvall, lowering
+it to the level of the main portion of the adjoining house, saw that it
+was of sufficient length to permit his descent. In a moment he had
+slipped off his shoes, and was cautiously descending the ladder.
+
+Once on the surface of the main roof of the house, he had intended to
+take down the ladder and, by means of it, descend the remaining six or
+seven feet to the roof of the back building, but he found that means for
+this descent already existed. A rough but permanent wooden ladder led
+from the higher level to the lower. Duvall judged that it had been
+placed there to provide easy communication between the upper roof and
+the lower. Leaving the ladder where it stood, he made his way down to
+the roof of the back building. It was covered with tin, and he walked
+softly in his stockinged feet to avoid being overheard.
+
+His first act was to go to the wall of the apartment house which faced
+him, and make a thorough examination of it by the light of his electric
+torch. He judged that in the position in which he now stood he was about
+on a level with the floor of Ruth's room. The brick wall of the
+apartment building facing him was blank, that is, it contained no
+windows. After a minute examination, Duvall was forced to the conclusion
+that no entrance to the girl's bedroom had been made through it. The
+bricks were solid, immovable, the cemented joints firm and unbroken. A
+moment later he turned to the left.
+
+Here the rising wall of the attic story of the house faced him, reaching
+to a point above his head. Two dusty and long unopened dormer windows,
+similar to those facing on the court, confronted him. He remembered that
+the servant of the house next door had informed him, earlier in the
+week, that the attic was, and long had been, unoccupied.
+
+Whether the attic was tenanted or not, however, had no bearing on the
+problem which confronted him. The windows might serve as a means whereby
+anyone could reach the roof of the back building from the house proper,
+but they did not suggest any means whereby anyone might reach the
+windows of Ruth's bedroom. And by ascending to the point on the attic
+roof where his ladder stood, the problem was no nearer a solution, for a
+person standing there was on the edge of the court between the
+buildings, seven feet or more above the girl's bedroom window, and as
+many away from it. He turned away, and approaching the rear edge of the
+back building, looked over.
+
+To his left, some eight feet away, was the fire escape before the rear
+window of the girl's bedroom. Standing on that sharp edge, he realized
+that in no way could he reach the railing of the fire escape, except by
+jumping, a feat that an expert gymnast might have hesitated to attempt,
+at that height above the ground. And could it be done successfully, what
+about the crash, the noise which must inevitably result from such a
+performance? What about the damage to the paint upon the fire escape's
+iron surface? And yet it would seem that a young girl had accomplished
+this feat, without noise, without making the least mark to register her
+passage. He thought of the tell-tale handkerchief, which he had found on
+the fire escape earlier in the evening, then turned back with a feeling
+of annoyance. The thing was, he realized, an impossibility.
+
+A sudden sense of the passage of time made him hurry to the roof of the
+rear building of the house at No. 162. Like its neighbor, it was built
+with an attic story, and in the rear were two dormer windows opening in
+the same way upon the lower roof. Could these windows, by any chance, be
+those of the room of Marcia Ford? It seemed highly probable, since, if
+she had operated from the roof, they could afford an easy way to reach
+it. Very cautiously he crept up to the nearer of the two windows and
+looked in.
+
+The room before him was in total darkness, and the very faint radiance
+from without was not sufficient to enable him to distinguish anything
+within it. The window, however, he saw to his delight was open, and the
+opening, although small, was quite large enough to enable him to crawl
+in. Holding his electric torch in one hand, he crept into the room.
+
+The beam of light from his torch, although powerful, was, of course,
+very concentrated. He swept it about the room, to make sure that it was
+unoccupied. It was a small room, long and narrow, with the single dormer
+window, by which he had just entered, at one end, and a similar one at
+the side, in the slanting mansard roof. It contained a small bed, a
+chiffonier and dresser, a table, some chairs and a trunk. It was a
+woman's room; one glance at the dresser told him that, and a
+handkerchief lying crumpled on the latter's top proved to be identical
+with the one he had found on the fire escape, both in its general
+character, and in the initial "F" in one of its borders. Beyond any
+doubt, he was now in Marcia Ford's room.
+
+Had he been inclined to doubt it, two photographs upon the wall would
+have convinced him. One was a picture of the Ford girl herself. The
+other was a portrait of the woman of the cab, the one that Duvall fully
+believed to be the author of the attacks upon Ruth Morton.
+
+He examined the various articles about the room with the utmost care,
+but nothing of any interest rewarded his search. It had been his hope
+that he might find something of definite value--the typewriter, perhaps,
+upon which the threatening letters had been written, the black sealing
+wax, used in making the death's-head seals, the paper employed by the
+writer. None of these things was in evidence; there was no typewriter,
+the table contained a small bottle of ink, a couple of pens, and some
+cheap envelopes and a writing tablet of linen paper quite different from
+that upon which the warning letters had been written. There was nothing,
+absolutely nothing, in the place to connect its occupant with the
+sending of the letters, except the room's location, in such close
+proximity to that of Ruth Morton, and the photograph of the woman of the
+cab, hanging upon the wall.
+
+Duvall, greatly disappointed, was about to take his departure, when he
+observed at the far end of the room a door. Whether it led to another
+room, or to a bathroom, or merely to a closet, he did not, of course,
+know. There was danger, he fully realized, that Marcia Ford might return
+at any moment. There was equal danger that, upon opening the door, he
+might find himself in another room, possibly an occupied one. He thought
+at one time that he heard sounds on the far side of the door, but when
+he paused and stood listening he could distinguish nothing, and
+concluded that he had been mistaken. Shutting off the light of his
+pocket torch for the moment, in order that, should the entrance lead to
+another room, its rays might not betray his presence, Duvall grabbed the
+door knob, and, turning it softly, opened the door.
+
+For a moment he had a glimpse of a black cavern, and then, with
+incredible swiftness, something struck him a heavy blow in the face.
+What it was he was too much surprised and stunned to realize. His
+electric lamp fell from his hand, and clattered to the floor.
+
+Realizing his helplessness in the almost total darkness, he bent down,
+groping about in an unsuccessful effort to recover the searchlight. And
+then, with a loud cry, a heavy body projected itself upon him, grasping
+wildly at his hair. An arm, clothed in some silken material, encircled
+his throat. He felt himself choking. And at the same moment a strange
+and irrational terror seized him. He seemed in the grasp of something
+uncanny, something inhuman, in spite of its very human cries. With a
+shudder he sprang to his feet, unable to locate the missing electric
+torch, and shaking the shrieking figure from him, plunged toward the
+window by which he had entered. It was not alone the surprise, the
+nameless terror of the thing, that sent Duvall headlong from the room.
+He fully realized that the noise of the encounter, the shrieks of his
+assailant, would quickly bring the other inmates of the house to the
+room. He had no wish to be discovered there--his entrance had been too
+irregular, too illegal, for that. With extraordinary rapidity he flung
+himself through the window and without waiting to observe the results of
+his intrusion, sped swiftly across the roofs of the two buildings, up
+the steps to the attic roof, and from there, by means of the ladder, to
+the roof of the apartment building. The janitor sat where he had left
+him, smoking a pipe. Duvall looked back. Lights were visible in the room
+he had just left. He saw a figure, one that closely resembled Marcia
+Ford, cross the lighted area of the window. There was a second figure
+with her--smaller, shorter, he thought. Who--what was it that had
+attacked him? He stood in a daze, unable to grasp the meaning of the
+experience through which he had just passed.
+
+The janitor took his pipe from his mouth and rose.
+
+"Find what you were looking for?" he asked with a grin. Duvall shook his
+head.
+
+"No," he said. "Not exactly. But I'm on the track of it."
+
+"Want the ladder any more?"
+
+"No, not to-night." He assisted the man to draw it up to the roof.
+
+A few moments later he had reached the sidewalk. He glanced at his
+watch. It was just eight o'clock. As he walked toward the entrance of
+the house at No. 162, the front door opened, and a woman came out.
+
+Duvall quickened his pace, but the woman was also apparently in a great
+hurry. She ran swiftly across the sidewalk, and sprang into a cab which
+stood beside the curb. Duvall was able to get but a fleeting glance at
+her, but that glance was enough to convince him that she was the
+mysterious prisoner who had so neatly given him the slip while in the
+cab the night before. He sprang forward with a cry, but before he had
+come within ten feet of the cab, the vehicle dashed off and proceeded at
+a rapid rate up the street.
+
+A second cab came along at almost the same moment. Duvall hailed it, but
+the driver shook his head, indicating that he had a fare. In a moment
+the second cab had passed, apparently in hot pursuit of the first. There
+were no other cabs in sight. With a growl of anger and annoyance Duvall
+turned back to the door of No. 162.
+
+Should he ring the bell and ask for Miss Ford? he wondered. Of what use
+would it be, to request an interview? Yet there seemed to be nothing
+else that he could do. Miss Ford had not left the house, although the
+other woman, apparently her confederate, had done so. He stood in the
+shadow of the apartment building, trying to decide what move he should
+make next.
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER XIV
+
+
+Grace Duvall, on being left at the hotel by her husband, spent a long
+and very tiresome afternoon. She had expected Richard back long before,
+with news, perhaps, of a successful investigation of the woman, Marcia
+Ford, whose address was so near that of the Mortons. But when six
+o'clock came, and went, with no news of her husband, Grace came to the
+conclusion that he had probably struck a long trail, and being a
+normally healthy person, with an excellent appetite, she went to the
+dining room and ordered dinner, leaving word at the desk where she would
+be, in case Richard returned.
+
+Her lonely meal was over by seven, and, not knowing what to do next,
+Grace went out on the sidewalk, with the intention of looking for her
+friend of the evening before, the taxicab driver, Leary. It was possible
+that the man might have something more to report. As she reached the
+door, she saw him descend from his cab. He came forward at once, tipping
+his cap.
+
+"Taxi, ma'am," he asked.
+
+"No, I don't think so, Leary. Anything new?"
+
+"Not a thing, ma'am. Haven't seen that party since. Can't I take you for
+a drive, ma'am?"
+
+Grace was on the point of refusing, when a sudden idea came to her. She
+hastily opened her pocketbook, tore out the pieces of the visiting card
+that Duvall had left upon the table, and fitted them together.
+
+"Drive me to 162 W. 57th Street," she directed, and stepped into the
+cab.
+
+Leary touched his cap, and in a few moments they were speeding up the
+Avenue.
+
+"Don't go right up to the address," Grace told him through the speaking
+tube. "Stop a little below, but in a place where I can see the door."
+
+The man nodded, and a little later they turned into 57th Street and drew
+up alongside the curb.
+
+"Do you think you would recognize the woman who gave you the card, last
+night?" Grace asked.
+
+"Yes, ma'am. I think I should, ma'am."
+
+"Very well. Watch the doorway of number 162. If she goes in let me know.
+If she comes out, follow her. I shall probably recognize her myself, if
+she is the woman I think. I saw her for a few moments at the Grand
+Theater last night. But she may not be the same one. We'll know that
+later."
+
+Leary nodded, and they began a long wait. After what seemed to Grace an
+interminable time, they saw a taxicab come rapidly down the street,
+execute a turn, and draw up before the door of number 162.
+
+Grace, as soon as she realized the cab's destination, sprang to the
+sidewalk and strolled carelessly along in the direction of the house.
+The cab came to a standstill just before she reached it, and two women
+got out. One of them Grace had never seen before. The other she
+recognized at once. It was the woman who had fainted in the theater the
+previous night.
+
+Neither of the women paid any attention to her, but directing the cabman
+to wait, passed quickly into the house.
+
+Grace went back to her cab and got in.
+
+"The woman I am looking for has just driven up in that cab," she said.
+"She has gone into the house. The cab is to wait. When she comes out
+again, follow her." Leary nodded, and the two of them settled down for
+what they supposed would be a long wait. To their surprise, scarcely ten
+minutes had passed before the door of No. 162 was suddenly opened, and
+the woman whom Grace had recognized dashed down the steps and sprang
+into the waiting cab. At almost the same moment Grace saw her husband
+start forward from the direction of the apartment building, as though in
+pursuit of her.
+
+There was no time, however, to wait for him. The cab ahead had already
+started off, and Leary, true to his instructions, was speeding after it.
+In a moment both vehicles had turned into Seventh Avenue and were
+driving rapidly uptown.
+
+As minute after minute sped by, Grace began to realize that the chase
+might prove a long one. They had already crossed to Central Park West,
+and were now speeding northward again in the neighborhood of 72nd
+Street. Then, to Grace's surprise, the cab ahead swerved into a side
+street, and drew up before the entrance of the hotel at which Ruth
+Morton and her mother were stopping. The cab had no sooner stopped than
+the woman sprang out and entered the lobby.
+
+Grace followed her without a moment's hesitation, ordering Leary to
+wait. The woman hurried up to the desk and, taking a blank card from it,
+scribbled a few words upon it in pencil, and handed it to the clerk.
+Grace was unable to hear what she said to him, but the man nodded, and
+handed the card to a bellboy. The woman sat down in a nearby chair.
+
+Grace, having nothing else to do, and being somewhat afraid that the
+woman might recognize her, crossed at once to the opposite side of the
+lobby and, going to the news stand, spent some time in selecting and
+purchasing a magazine. She stood with her back to the woman, screened by
+a large palm, but at the same time managed to keep a fairly close watch
+upon her.
+
+It was several minutes before anything happened. Then an elderly lady
+emerged from one of the elevators, and under the guidance of a bellboy
+approached the woman Grace had been following. Grace did not remember
+having ever seen the older woman before, but she had a distinct
+impression that it might be Mrs. Morton. She strolled over to the desk,
+and addressed the clerk in a low voice.
+
+"Is that Mrs. Morton--the elderly lady in black?" she asked. The clerk
+stared at her, but his reserve melted before her charming smile.
+
+"No, Miss," he said. "That is Mrs. Bradley."
+
+"Thank you." Grace gave a sigh of relief, and turned away.
+
+Looking once more toward the two women, she saw that the older one was
+addressing her companion with something of reserve, as though she had
+never met her before. The younger woman spoke quickly, smilingly, for a
+few moments, shook hands with her companion, and turned away. Grace saw
+that she was about to leave, and at once followed her, although at a
+little distance, so as not to excite her suspicions. When she reached
+the sidewalk the other woman had already entered her cab, and seemed
+about to drive off.
+
+The cab, however, merely moved to a position a little further down the
+street, and by the time Grace had entered her own vehicle the other had
+again become stationary.
+
+This maneuver struck Grace as extremely peculiar. She told Leary to
+remain where he was, and with some misgivings, awaited the woman's next
+move.
+
+After a time she saw Mrs. Bradley, who had gone toward the elevators as
+Grace left the lobby, come out, signal for a taxicab, and drive quickly
+off. Leary was obliged to draw up with his machine, in order to leave a
+clear space before the door.
+
+A few seconds later Grace saw the woman she had been following spring
+from her cab, come rapidly along the sidewalk, and once more enter the
+lobby. Grace again followed her, just in time to see that instead of
+applying at the desk, as before, she went directly to one of the
+elevators, entered, and was whisked out of sight.
+
+Grace's heart almost stood still with fear. She had not appreciated the
+meaning of the woman's actions before. Now they were only too clear. She
+had evidently gotten Mrs. Morton, whom Grace suddenly remembered had
+been registered under an assumed name, out of the way on some pretext or
+other, and had gone to Ruth's room, with the intention, no doubt, of
+carrying out her previous threats. The situation was frightful. It would
+admit of no delay. Grace dashed to the desk and began to speak rapidly,
+in a frightened voice, to the clerk.
+
+"That woman"--she exclaimed--"the one who just went up in the
+elevator--she is going to Miss Ruth Morton's room--you must stop
+her--there is no telling what she may not do--send up, quick--quick!
+Miss Morton is in the greatest danger."
+
+The clerk looked at her, his mouth half open with surprise.
+
+"I--what do you mean, Miss? I don't understand you. We have no Miss
+Morton here." He regarded Grace apprehensively, and out of the corner of
+his eye looked toward the cashier, as though he contemplated calling on
+him for assistance in case this apparently mad woman became violent.
+
+Grace gave a groan of despair.
+
+"The daughter of the elderly lady, about whom I asked you before. Her
+name is Morton. Her daughter Ruth is staying here under an assumed
+name--Bradley, you say it is. Oh--please be quick. I know what I am
+talking about. That woman who came here a while ago is a dangerous
+character. She gave Mrs. Morton some message or other to get her out of
+the way, and as soon as she had gone came back into the hotel and went
+upstairs in the elevator. Didn't you see her?"
+
+"Yes, Miss, I saw her. She was a friend of Mrs. Bradley's, she said, and
+I supposed Mrs. Bradley had told her to go upstairs."
+
+"I tell you, that woman who just went upstairs means harm--terrible
+harm, to Miss Bradley--Miss Morton. Oh--don't stand there wasting time.
+Come up with me at once, and you will see that I am right----"
+
+"But--who are you, Miss? What have you to do with the matter?"
+
+"What difference does that make, if what I say is true? If you must
+know, I am a detective employed by Mrs. Morton----"
+
+"Employed by Mrs. Morton! And yet you didn't know her when you saw her!
+My dear woman, your story does not hang together----"
+
+"It is my husband, Mr. Duvall, who is employed by her. He was registered
+here under the name of Bradley, too. I am trying to help him."
+
+"Oh!" The clerk seemed somewhat more inclined to accord her serious
+attention. "Very well. I will go to the room with you, and see if
+everything is all right."
+
+"And hurry, please--hurry." Grace started toward the elevators.
+
+Then a sudden thought came to her. Suppose the woman was to make her
+escape, coming down in one of the elevators, while she and the clerk
+were going up in another. There had been ample time, she knew, for her
+to have murdered Ruth, were that her plan, and have already left the
+room.
+
+"Wait just a moment," she cried to the clerk, who had said a few words
+to one of his assistants and was leaving the desk to join her. "I must
+speak to my cabman, but I'll be back in a moment." She dashed through
+the entrance doors and hurried to the point where Leary sat at his
+steering wheel.
+
+"Wait here," she whispered to him, "until I come back, unless the woman
+we have been following comes out. If she does come out, and drive away,
+follow her, and find out where she goes. Then telephone me here. I will
+leave my name at the desk, and wait until I hear from you."
+
+Leary nodded, and Grace quickly re-entered the lobby and joined the
+waiting clerk.
+
+"Instruct your telephone operators," she said to him, "to let me know,
+in case anyone calls up Mrs. Duvall."
+
+The clerk gave the necessary instructions, and the two then entered one
+of the elevators and quickly made their way to the seventh floor, upon
+which Mrs. Morton's apartment was located.
+
+There was no one in the corridor when they left the elevator, and the
+clerk, who knew the location of the suite, hastened to it at once.
+
+They reached the door. Grace was conscious of a feeling of apprehension,
+a sense of impending disaster. Her heart pounded violently as she waited
+for the answer to the clerk's knocks. She waited in vain. Only silence,
+grim, terrible, rewarded his efforts.
+
+"Something _has_ happened," Grace whispered, as the clerk again rapped
+upon the door, this time more loudly than before.
+
+Again there was no reply, no evidence of the presence of anyone in the
+girl's rooms.
+
+"Open the door!" Grace cried. "Something terrible must have occurred!"
+
+The clerk took the pass key with which he had provided himself, and
+inserted it in the lock. A moment later the door swung open, and the two
+of them entered the room.
+
+It was in total darkness. Grace clutched at her heart, fearing what she
+believed the switching on of the lights would reveal. The clerk, without
+loss of time, pressed the push button near the door. The room was at
+once flooded with light.
+
+Grace glanced about, then gave a momentary sigh of relief. The room, the
+small parlor of the suite, was quite vacant. At its further end the door
+to Ruth Morton's bedroom stood ajar.
+
+With the clerk beside her, Grace hurriedly crossed the room. With a
+prayer in her heart she pushed open the bedroom door. Her companion at
+the same moment felt along the door-jamb for the electric switch. In an
+instant the bedroom lights were turned on.
+
+Then Grace saw that her fears had been fully justified. On the floor,
+halfway between the door and the bed, lay Ruth Morton, apparently
+lifeless. Her face was the color of chalk, her eyes were closed. With a
+cry, Grace fell on her knees beside the unconscious girl and with
+trembling fingers felt her heart. The clerk, a weak-faced young man,
+stood gazing at the scene before him in amazed horror.
+
+"She isn't dead!" Grace exclaimed, turning an excited face to him. "Her
+heart is still beating. Send for a doctor, quick!" Then, taking the
+unconscious girl in her arms, she lifted her to the bed.
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER XV
+
+
+Richard Duvall, realizing that the woman he sought had once more eluded
+him, was for the moment unable to decide what to do next. He was
+oppressed by a sense of failure. Apparently this enemy of Ruth Morton's
+was far more resourceful than he had supposed. She had gotten clear
+away, and there appeared no means by which he could trace her. That the
+second cab, the one he had hailed, contained Grace, did not of course
+occur to him. The trail appeared to be hopelessly lost.
+
+Still, his investigations in Miss Ford's room had not been entirely
+fruitless, although they had also added a startlingly new element to the
+mystery of the case. Who was the person who had attacked him from the
+closet? Was it the woman who had just left the house? He did not think
+so. Nor was it Miss Ford herself. There had been something uncanny about
+the whole experience; he was by no means certain that his assailant had
+been a human being at all. And yet, its cries--its fingers, tearing at
+his throat. He was unable to account for the experience at all, and
+determined, as soon as possible, to repeat his visit, and sift the
+matter to the bottom.
+
+He remembered that he had seen two persons in the Ford girl's room,
+after his hasty retreat. Two women, he thought, outlined against the
+lighted square of the window. One of these had already left the house.
+The other, Miss Ford herself, was still there. He determined to
+interview her at once.
+
+Of course, he told himself, to do so would put her on her guard, but his
+visit to her room had already done that, and doubtless accounted for her
+companion's hasty flight. And there was something to be gained, by
+letting her realize that she was under suspicion. She would at once try
+to communicate with, to warn, her confederate, and it was in just such
+ways as this, Duvall's experience told him, that criminals so often
+betrayed themselves. If, by frightening Miss Ford, he could cause her to
+flee--to join her companion--the tracing of the latter would become
+comparatively simple. He went up to the door of No. 162 and rang the
+bell.
+
+The same woman answered his summons as had answered before. She seemed
+somewhat uneasy--disturbed.
+
+"I want to see Miss Marcia Ford," Duvall told her.
+
+"Very well, sir. Come in. I will tell Miss Ford. What name, please?"
+
+"Say that Mr. Bradley is calling."
+
+The girl ushered him into a dark parlor, lighted by a single lowered gas
+jet, and suggestive of the gloom of ages, in its walnut furniture, its
+dismal pictures and ornaments. He took a seat, and waited for the
+appearance of Miss Ford.
+
+She arrived in a few moments, a slender, ordinary-looking girl, in white
+shirtwaist and black skirt.
+
+"You are Mr. Bradley?" she asked, regarding the detective with a look of
+inquiry.
+
+"Yes. I came to see you about a matter of importance."
+
+"What is it?"
+
+"Who was the woman who just left here--the woman who had just come in
+with you?" Miss Ford favored the detective with a glassy stare.
+
+"I do not understand you," she exclaimed. "I came home alone. What is
+the purpose of these questions?"
+
+Duvall felt that he had a shrewd opponent to deal with.
+
+"Are you acquainted with Miss Ruth Morton?" he asked.
+
+"Why--certainly--that is, I know her by reputation, She works for the
+same company as I do. Why do you ask?"
+
+"Miss Morton has recently been the subject of a shameful persecution.
+The woman who just left this house is concerned in it. Who is she?"
+
+"I do not know what you are talking about," the girl exclaimed, angrily.
+"I know nothing about any woman. You must pardon me, Mr. Bradley, if I
+decline to be questioned in this way any further." She moved toward the
+door.
+
+"Then you wish me to understand that the woman who just left this house
+did not come here with you?"
+
+"Understand anything you please. I decline to be questioned any
+further." With a look of anger she left the room.
+
+Duvall made his way back to the sidewalk, thoroughly satisfied with the
+results of his visit. The Ford woman, in the first place, had lied. The
+other woman had been with her, beyond a doubt. Duvall thought of her
+picture on the wall of Miss Ford's room. The latter's reason for lying
+was equally clear. She and the woman with her were guilty.
+
+In the second place, Miss Ford now realized fully that she was under
+direct suspicion. If, this being the case, she failed to take some step
+that would be fatal to both her confederate and herself, Duvall felt
+that he would be very much surprised. He made up his mind to keep close
+watch upon the house.
+
+Suddenly it occurred to him that Grace might be of immense service to
+him at this juncture. She could follow the Ford girl, unknown,
+unrecognized, while he himself could not. He decided to call her up at
+once, and ask her to join him.
+
+At the corner, the lights of a saloon glowed brilliantly. With a final
+glance at the dark doorway of No. 162, he walked quickly down the street
+He felt that, if he hurried, he need not be away from his post more than
+a few moments.
+
+The call to his hotel developed the fact that Grace was not in. There
+was a lady asking for him, however, the clerk said, an elderly woman,
+who gave her name as Mrs. Morton. She had just come in, and seemed
+greatly agitated at not having found him.
+
+The name, Mrs. Morton, filled Duvall with sudden apprehension.
+
+"I'll speak to her, please," he said. A moment later, he recognized the
+voice of Mrs. Morton over the 'phone.
+
+"Is this Mr. Duvall?"
+
+"Yes."
+
+"This is Mrs. Morton. Your wife came to me, a little while ago, and said
+that you wanted to see me at your hotel at once. She explained that it
+was of the utmost importance. Why are you not here?"
+
+"I sent no such message."
+
+"No such message! Then who did?"
+
+"I do not know. You left your daughter alone?"
+
+"Yes."
+
+"Then, Mrs. Morton, I am afraid you have been imposed upon. Wait where
+you are. I will join you at once."
+
+"Hurry, then, Mr. Duvall. If what you say is true, we do not know what
+may have happened."
+
+"I will be with you in fifteen minutes."
+
+The astonishing news given to him by Mrs. Morton filled Duvall with
+alarm. Clearly the supposed message from him had been part of a scheme
+to get her away from the hotel, to leave Ruth there alone. He scarcely
+dared think of the consequences. The following of Miss Ford now became a
+matter of secondary importance. Fearing the worst, he signaled to a
+passing taxicab, and drove as rapidly as possible to his hotel.
+
+Mrs. Morton awaited him in the lobby. She was in a state of the utmost
+excitement.
+
+"We must go back to the hotel at once," she cried. "Ruth is there all
+alone."
+
+"Where is her maid, Nora?"
+
+"I let her go out, this evening."
+
+"Then you should not have left the hotel."
+
+"I would not have done so, but for this imperative message from you."
+
+"What was the message?"
+
+"Your wife, or at least a woman claiming to be your wife, came to see me
+a little after eight o'clock. She said you had arrested the woman who
+has been sending these threats to my daughter, and that you needed me at
+once, to make a charge against her at the police station. I naturally
+came here immediately."
+
+"The woman who told you this--she couldn't have been my wife. Describe
+her."
+
+"She was slight, small, neatly but not expensively dressed, with light
+eyes and hair."
+
+"That was not Mrs. Duvall, but it answers very well the description of
+the woman we are seeking. What did she do, when you left the hotel?"
+
+"I thought she also left."
+
+"You are not sure of this?"
+
+"No."
+
+"Then we have no time to lose. Come." He escorted Mrs. Morton to a
+taxicab, and instructed the chauffeur to drive to her hotel at top
+speed.
+
+Mrs. Morton had very little to say on the way uptown. She was naturally
+in a state of greatest excitement. Duvall, too, was greatly concerned.
+He knew that the false message had not been given by Grace. What purpose
+had the woman in mind, in getting rid of Mrs. Morton? The realization of
+what might have happened to Ruth alarmed him beyond measure.
+
+The drive to the hotel occupied but a few moments, but to Duvall it
+seemed hours. When they at last drew up before the hotel door, he sprang
+to the sidewalk, ordered the chauffeur to wait, and with Mrs. Morton at
+his side, hurried into the lobby.
+
+"Give me my key," Mrs. Morton cried, pausing for a moment at the desk.
+Then, with Duvall at her heels, she rushed to the elevator.
+
+As soon as they arrived at the door of the suite, it was apparent that
+something was wrong. The door stood open. The clerk, with one of the
+maids, occupied the little parlor. Through the open door of the bedroom
+Duvall caught a glimpse of Ruth, lying in bed, the figure of a
+heavily-set, bearded man bending over her.
+
+"Mrs. Bradley!" the clerk exclaimed, as soon as he caught sight of Mrs.
+Morton. "I'm so glad you have come. Your daughter has had an--an
+accident!"
+
+Mrs. Morton paid scant attention to his words. She, too, had seen
+through the doorway the figure of her daughter lying in the bed. With a
+cry, she passed the clerk unnoticing, and went toward the bedroom door.
+
+"Ruth!" she exclaimed, in an agonized voice, then rushed into the room
+beyond.
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER XVI
+
+
+When Grace Duvall, accompanied by the hotel clerk, found Ruth Morton
+lying on the floor in the parlor of her suite, her first act had been to
+call for a doctor.
+
+Her second was to gather the unconscious girl in her arms, and carry her
+into the adjoining bedroom.
+
+That Ruth was alive, filled Grace with joy. She had feared something far
+worse might have befallen the girl. Yet it was clear that some terrible
+shock had operated to reduce her to the condition in which she had been
+found. What this shock was, Grace could only surmise.
+
+She placed the girl upon the bed, and proceeded to remove her clothing.
+By the time she had gotten her beneath the sheets, the clerk came in,
+accompanied by the hotel physician.
+
+The latter, after a hasty examination, turned to Grace with a grave
+look. "The young woman has experienced a terrible shock of some sort,"
+he said. "She is very weak, and her heart action is bad." He took some
+tablets from a bottle in his medicine case, and called for a glass of
+water. "Severe nerve-shock of this sort is a serious matter," he
+exclaimed. "Sometimes it is fatal, at others the mind may be permanently
+affected. The young lady must be kept absolutely quiet, of course. We
+will hope for the best. Give her a tablespoonful of this solution every
+hour. Force her to take it, even if she does not regain consciousness. I
+will look in again in an hour or two. But be sure that she is kept
+absolutely quiet."
+
+Grace sat beside the unconscious girl for a long time in silence. Once
+she went into the next room and called up her hotel, thinking that
+Richard might have returned, but he had not. She felt that she could
+only wait where she was, until some word came from Leary.
+
+The clerk, as soon as Ruth was attended to, had hastened down to the
+lobby, only to learn that the woman who had gone to Miss Bradley's room
+had not been seen.
+
+It must have been almost an hour before Grace was informed by one of the
+bellboys that someone wished to speak to her on the telephone. She did
+not take the message in Ruth's room, the management having given
+instructions that no calls were to be transmitted there for fear of
+arousing the unconscious girl. She went quickly downstairs in the
+elevator, and repaired to a booth in the lobby. One of the maids had
+been left to watch over Ruth.
+
+The message was from Leary, as Grace had anticipated.
+
+"Is this you, Mrs. Duvall?" the cabman asked.
+
+"Yes. What have you discovered?"
+
+"The lady got into her cab a little while after you left me, and drove
+away. I followed, as you told me to do. She drove to an apartment on
+96th Street, left her taxicab, and entered. The cab drove away. I'm
+waiting across the street, in a drug store. The apartment is on the
+corner, 96th Street and Columbus Avenue. Shall I stay here?"
+
+"Yes. Wait until I come." Grace left the booth, and hunting up the
+clerk, told him that she was obliged to go out at once.
+
+"Mrs. Morton should be back very soon," she said. "One of the maids is
+sitting with Miss Ruth. Hadn't you better stay with her, as well?"
+
+The clerk nodded, then saw the doctor coming through the lobby.
+
+"Here's Dr. Benson," he said. "I'll send him up. The young lady will be
+quite safe, until her mother comes."
+
+Grace bowed to the doctor, then hurried out of the hotel, and jumping
+into a taxi, ordered the driver to take her to Columbus Avenue and 96th
+Street. She felt overjoyed, to know that the woman Duvall had been
+seeking had at last been run to earth. She should, Grace determined, not
+escape a second time.
+
+At 96th Street, she found Leary, impatiently waiting for her in the
+doorway of the corner drug store from which he had telephoned. He saw
+her as soon as she left the cab and, tipping his cap, came forward and
+joined her.
+
+"She's in there yet, Miss," he whispered, jerking his thumb toward the
+building on the opposite corner.
+
+Grace glanced in the direction indicated. A somewhat dingy-looking
+apartment house stood upon the corner; its lower floor occupied by a
+florist's shop. The entrance was on 96th Street. Leaving Leary on the
+opposite corner, she crossed the street and entered the vestibule of the
+building.
+
+The mail boxes on either side contained five names each, indicating that
+there were ten apartments in the building. Grace looked over the
+addresses in them carefully, but none of them meant anything to her.
+None was at all familiar. The name on the torn card had been Ford, but
+there was no such name among those before her. How was she to tell to
+which apartment the woman had gone? The situation presented an
+interesting problem.
+
+Making a list of the names upon a visiting card, Grace determined to try
+them each in turn. She had observed that the building contained no
+elevator. She rang one of the bells, and almost at once the clicking of
+the catch told her that the front door was unlocked. She turned the knob
+and entered.
+
+The occupants of the two ground floor apartments were named Weinberg and
+Scully, respectively. Grace tried both doors in succession, asking for
+Mrs. Weinberg at the one, and for Mrs. Scully at the other. In each case
+the woman who appeared bore no resemblance to the one she sought, and
+she was obliged to pretend that she had made a mistake. The doors were
+at once closed in her face.
+
+It was not until she reached the fourth floor that success rewarded her
+efforts. The left-hand apartment on this floor had as its tenant a Miss
+Norman. To Grace's delight, she had scarcely rung the bell, when the
+woman she had been following appeared, wearing a flowered kimono.
+
+She looked at Grace keenly, suspiciously, but with no sign of
+recognition. Whether she did not know her, or merely pretended not to do
+so, Grace was unable to say. After all, it made little difference.
+Having now located the woman, it was only necessary to get away, upon
+some pretense or other, and telephone to Richard. She felt highly
+elated.
+
+"What do you want?" the woman asked, quickly.
+
+"Are you Miss Norman?"
+
+"I am."
+
+"Miss Norman, I have come to try to interest you in the work we are
+doing on behalf of the suffering people of Poland. The war, as you
+know----" Grace reeled off this appeal, feeling quite certain that the
+woman would reject it at once, and thus leave her free to go. But as it
+turned out, Miss Norman did nothing of the sort.
+
+"I am always interested in worthy charities," she remarked, with a
+peculiar smile. "Won't you come in?" She held wide the door.
+
+Grace found herself in a quandary. Was this a plot to get her inside the
+apartment, or was the woman in earnest? It seemed unlikely, and yet,
+Grace feared the danger, now that she had gone so far, of arousing the
+other's suspicions by a refusal.
+
+"I--I will come in for a moment," she said, and an instant later found
+herself in a small, rather poorly furnished living room. The woman
+closed the door, and followed her. Grace braced herself for a possible
+attack, but none came.
+
+"Sit down," her hostess said, indicating a chair.
+
+"No. It is too late for that. If you care to subscribe anything----"
+
+"But you must tell me more about your work."
+
+"It is very simple. The money is expended by the Polish Relief
+Committee, to relieve the starving and destitute sufferers in the war
+zone."
+
+"I see. It seems a worthy charity. I will think the matter over. Suppose
+you call again."
+
+Grace began to breathe more freely.
+
+"I will do so, of course," she said, moving toward the door.
+
+The woman preceded her.
+
+"Let me open it," she said. "The catch has a habit of sticking." She
+fumbled with the lock.
+
+Grace was so completely deceived by the woman's actions that she
+momentarily relaxed her guard. As her companion drew the door open,
+Grace bade her good night and started to go. The instant her back was
+turned, she felt a slender but muscular arm slide about her neck, and
+she was instantly dragged backward, unable, on account of the pressure
+upon her throat, to utter a sound.
+
+Her attempt at a cry for help was smothered before it became audible.
+She saw, as in a dream, the woman before her drive the door to with her
+shoulder. Then she was whirled backward and thrown violently upon a low
+couch.
+
+She grasped the arm of her assailant and struggled with all her might,
+but to no purpose. The woman bent over her, her hands at her throat.
+Grace's brain reeled. Everything seemed black before her eyes. She
+gasped, trying in vain to breathe, but the fingers upon her throat were
+momentarily tightening. Then, almost before she realized it, the objects
+in the room swam vaguely before her eyes, and she lost consciousness.
+
+
+
+
+PART IV
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER XVII
+
+
+Duvall, on his arrival with Mrs. Morton at her apartment, lost no time
+in finding out from the clerk just what had happened. The story, pieced
+together, confirmed his worst suspicions.
+
+The woman, after escaping from the house at 162 West 57th Street, had
+gone at once to Ruth's hotel, followed by Grace. Here she had
+interviewed Mrs. Morton, represented herself as Grace Duvall, and
+induced Mrs. Morton to leave the hotel by giving her a fictitious
+message purporting to be from himself.
+
+Returning, later, to the hotel, she had gone to Ruth Morton's room and
+attacked her. The nature of that attack, the effect upon the girl, were
+as yet uncertain. Ruth Morton was still unconscious.
+
+Meanwhile, as he learned from the clerk, Grace had received a telephone
+message and hurriedly left the hotel. The clerk did not know from whom
+the message had come.
+
+Duvall went to Ruth Morton's bedroom, and called the doctor aside.
+
+"What is the exact nature of Miss Morton's injuries?" he asked.
+
+"She has no injuries, at least in the sense I think you mean. She is
+suffering solely from the effects of shock."
+
+"What sort of shock?"
+
+"I do not know, of course. Fright, of some sort, terrible fright, I
+should say. I am informed that some woman, some enemy of hers, came to
+this room, and was alone with her."
+
+"There is no evidence of any violence?"
+
+"None whatever. But the effects of shock are often worse than those of
+actual physical violence. They have frequently been known to cause
+death."
+
+"You do not, I hope, anticipate anything of the sort in this case."
+
+"I cannot say." The doctor shook his head. "She must have been very
+weak. Her system is responding very slowly."
+
+Duvall glanced over to where Mrs. Morton hung in agonized silence over
+her daughter's bed, then went out into the sitting room. It seemed to
+him well nigh incredible that the woman responsible for all this had
+been able to move about, to elude pursuit, to carry out her threats,
+apparently without the least hesitation or fear of capture. His
+professional pride had received severe shock.
+
+Two means of finding the woman, he felt, were still open to him. One was
+to trace her through Miss Ford. He did not doubt that, after what he had
+said to the latter, she would make an immediate attempt to warn her
+confederate of the danger that threatened her. Of course, the Ford girl
+might communicate with her companion by telephone, in which event the
+tracing would be difficult, if not impossible.
+
+The other hope of tracing the woman lay in Grace. Why had she left the
+hotel so suddenly? He did not of course know the source of the telephone
+message, and could only surmise that Grace had in some way been able to
+pick up the woman's trail.
+
+Leaving Mrs. Morton with a few words of encouragement, he made his way
+to his hotel. There was no news there of Grace, however, and he realized
+that it was now too late to accomplish anything by returning to the
+house on 57th Street. Marcia Ford would either have long since retired,
+or else would have left the house to communicate with the woman who had
+been with her earlier in the evening. Considerably upset by the events
+of the past three hours, Duvall retired to his room, and sat down to
+think the whole matter over.
+
+Proceeding on the assumption that the woman in question, and Miss Ford
+were acting together, all the events at the studio, the fake telegram,
+the missing photograph, became intelligible. But the delivery of the
+letters in Ruth Morton's apartment, the strange attack upon him while
+searching the Ford girl's room, were by no means so clear. Once more his
+thoughts reverted to the attic room, the roof of the adjoining house,
+the problem of effecting an entrance to the Morton apartment through
+either of the two windows.
+
+And then, as he revolved the problem in his mind, a sudden light came to
+him. He sprang from his chair with an exclamation of satisfaction. A
+solution of the whole matter flashed through his brain, a solution at
+once so simple, and so ingenious, that he wondered he had not thought of
+it before.
+
+He glanced at his watch. It was midnight. Too late, perhaps, to test the
+accuracy of his deductions. Nor did he feel at all easy in his mind
+regarding Grace. Something must have happened to her, he feared, to keep
+her out so late, with no word to him concerning her movements. He went
+to the 'phone, and calling up the office, inquired whether anything had
+been heard of Mrs. Duvall.
+
+"No," the night clerk informed him. Mrs. Duvall had not been heard from,
+nor had she sent any message. But a note had just been left for her. He
+would send it up.
+
+Duvall awaited the arrival of the note with the utmost impatience. A
+message for Grace. From whom? What could it mean? A few moments later
+one of the bellboys thrust into his hand a letter, written on the note
+paper of the hotel.
+
+He regarded the scrawling and ill-written superscription with
+apprehension, then tore open the envelope and proceeded to read the
+contents of the note.
+
+"Dear Madam," it said. "I waited till nearly midnight. When you did not
+come, I thought you must have gone out some other way, so came back to
+the hotel. I hope I did right. Respectfully yours, Martin Leary." Duvall
+stared at the words before him with a look of alarm. Who was Martin
+Leary? And where had he waited for Grace until nearly midnight? And,
+above all, why had she not returned? Had some accident, some danger
+befallen her? The circumstances made it seem highly probable.
+
+There was but one thing to do--to question the night clerk, and find
+out, if possible, who Leary was. He rushed to the elevator and made his
+way to the lobby with all speed.
+
+"Who left this note for Mrs. Duvall?" he asked of the clerk.
+
+"Why,"--the man paused for a moment--"one of the cabmen, I believe."
+
+"Is his name Leary--Martin Leary?"
+
+"Yes. It was Leary, come to think of it. Nothing wrong, I hope, Mr.
+Duvall."
+
+"I'll know later. Where is Leary now?"
+
+"Couldn't say, sir. You might ask the cab starter?"
+
+Almost before the clerk had finished speaking, Duvall had darted across
+the lobby and made his way to the taxicab office at the door.
+
+"Taxi, sir?" the man asked. "Do you know a chauffeur named Martin
+Leary?" exclaimed Duvall.
+
+"Yes, sir. One of our regular men, sir."
+
+"Where is he?"
+
+The starter glanced along the row of taxicabs.
+
+"He's turned in for the night, sir. Left for the garage some time ago.
+He's been on duty since early this morning."
+
+"Where is the garage?"
+
+"On Lexington Avenue, sir, near 30th Street."
+
+"Does Leary sleep there?"
+
+"No, sir. I don't think so, sir. They would know at the garage, I
+guess."
+
+"Very well. Get me a cab. I want to be taken there at once."
+
+The starter called to one of the drivers, and a few moments later Duvall
+was being driven at a rapid rate toward the garage.
+
+His inquiries, on his arrival there, developed the fact that Leary had
+left for his home, on Second Avenue, some little time before. Duvall
+secured the address, and once more set out.
+
+He felt greatly alarmed at Grace's failure to put in an appearance.
+Something must have happened to her. Clearly the case was going very
+much against him--the woman's second escape--the attack on Ruth
+Morton--now the disappearance of Grace. He felt that the time had come
+for action of a quick and drastic nature.
+
+Leary lived with his wife and two children on the third floor of a
+Second Avenue tenement. Hastily climbing the two flights of dark steps,
+Duvall rapped on the door. He was overjoyed when it was opened by a man
+whom he judged to be the chauffeur himself.
+
+"Are you Martin Leary?" he asked.
+
+"Yes, sir." The man wiped his mouth with the back of his hand, choking
+down a bit of cold supper he had been eating, before turning in.
+
+"I am Richard Duvall. You drove my wife uptown, somewhere, did you not?"
+
+"Yes, sir. To Columbus Avenue and Ninety-sixth Street, sir. Won't you
+come in?"
+
+"No. There isn't time. I want you to put on your coat and come along
+with me. Mrs. Duvall has not returned, and I am afraid something has
+happened to her."
+
+The man turned and called to someone inside the flat.
+
+"Gimme my hat and coat, Kitty," he said, then turned again to Duvall. "I
+suppose I should have waited, sir, but after two hours went by, I made
+up my mind that Mrs. Duvall didn't need me any longer."
+
+"What is the building at Columbus Avenue and 96th Street?" Duvall asked,
+as the man, pulling on the coat his wife handed him, strode down the
+hall.
+
+"An apartment building, sir."
+
+"And why did Mrs. Duvall go there?"
+
+"Well, sir, we was following a woman, sir. She went to a hotel on
+Seventy-second Street, and Mrs. Duvall told me to watch for her. I did,
+and tracked her to the place at 96th Street. Then I telephoned to Mrs.
+Duvall to come, and she did."
+
+"What time was that?"
+
+"About half-past nine, sir."
+
+"All right. Go on."
+
+"Mrs. Duvall came, sir, in another taxi. I pointed out the place where
+the woman went in, and Mrs. Duvall went in after her. She didn't say I
+was to wait, but I guess she expected me to, because she had sent the
+other cab away. I waited over two hours, and then, when she didn't come
+out, I supposed she had returned to her hotel, so I came back, too. She
+wasn't there, though. That's why I left the note."
+
+"How did you think Mrs. Duvall could have gotten back to her hotel, if
+you were watching the door of the apartment house all the time?"
+
+"I wasn't watching it all the time, sir. I went into the drug store
+once, sir, and got a cigar. And then, later on, I went to a saloon a
+piece down the Avenue and got a glass of beer. Mrs. Duvall didn't say I
+was to watch the place, sir. I thought when she got through what she had
+to do, she would come back to the cab. But she didn't. Do you think I
+ought to have waited, sir?" The man seemed greatly distressed.
+
+"No use talking about that now," Duvall remarked, shortly. "I want to
+drive there at once. Get on the box, with the chauffeur, and point out
+the place to him."
+
+"Yes, sir." A moment later they had started on their way uptown.
+
+Knowing as he did Grace's impetuous nature, Duvall could only conclude
+that her pursuit of the woman had led her into some trap. What danger
+she might at this moment be facing, he could only surmise. The apartment
+building, when they finally reached it, presented a grim and forbidding
+appearance. Not a light broke the darkness of any of its windows. The
+drug store on the opposite corner, too, was closed for the night. The
+whole locality was dark and silent.
+
+"There's the place, sir," Leary exclaimed, as they drew up to the
+corner.
+
+"Tell the driver to stop a few doors up the block--not right in front of
+the building."
+
+Leary nodded. Presently the cab stopped, and he and Duvall got out.
+
+The detective's first move was to ascertain whether or not the building
+had any rear exit, by which Grace might have left, without being seen by
+Leary. He walked down the avenue to its rear wall, only to find that it
+abutted against the wall of the next building. There was no rear
+entrance.
+
+If, then, Grace had not left the place during the past hour, she must
+still be in one of the ten flats that formed the five floors of the
+building. But which one? That, apparently, was the problem he had to
+solve.
+
+It would be useless, he felt, to inquire at the doors of the various
+apartments at this hour of the morning. Admission, at least on the part
+of those he sought, would certainly be refused. Yet he felt that there
+was no time to be lost.
+
+Stationing Leary before the front door, with instructions to keep a
+careful watch, Duvall went into the vestibule, and by means of his
+pocket light, inspected the names of the occupants of the building, as
+Grace had done a short time before. The hallway inside was dark, with
+the exception of a dim light at the foot of the stairs. Apparently the
+place boasted no elevator or hall-boy service.
+
+The ten names on the boxes in the vestibule meant nothing to him. How
+was it possible to determine which one was that of the woman he sought?
+Weinberg--Scully--Martin--Stone--he ran down the list, trying to find
+some distinguishing mark, some clue, that would guide him.
+
+Suddenly he paused, allowing the light from his torch to rest upon the
+card bearing the name of one of the tenants on the fourth floor.
+
+This card had attracted his attention, because it was different from any
+of the others in the two racks. They were either engraved or printed
+visiting cards, stuck inside the brass frames provided for them, or the
+names were written or printed by hand upon blank cards. But this card,
+bearing simply the inscription E. W. Norman, was neither engraved nor
+printed, nor written by hand. On the contrary, it was _typewritten_.
+
+This in itself at once attracted Duvall's attention, owing to the fact
+that the various letters received by Ruth Morton had also all been
+typewritten. If the name, Norman, was an assumed one, as Duvall
+concluded it to be, what more natural than that it should be
+_typewritten_ on a blank card, especially when a regular printed or
+engraved card was not available; when to have it written in long hand
+would have been a disclosure of identity, and when, above all, the woman
+in question possessed, and knew how to operate, a typewriter.
+
+There was more than this, however, about the name on the card, to
+convince Duvall that E. W. Norman was the woman he sought. He recalled
+with distinctness the two salient features of the typewriting in all the
+letters sent to Miss Morton, the misplaced "a," and the broken lower
+right-hand corner of the capital "W." He looked closely at the two
+letters in the name before him. The "a" was misplaced, the "W" minus its
+lower right-hand corner. The evidence seemed to be complete.
+
+The next thing to be considered was, how could he first obtain entrance
+to the apartment building, and, subsequently, to the flat of the woman
+posing as E. W. Norman? Were he to ring the latter's bell, he felt quite
+sure she would not respond by unfastening the front door, but she would
+on the contrary be warned, and even if unable to escape, might destroy
+the evidence he hoped to find in her possession.
+
+On the other hand, to ring the bell of one of the other apartments might
+result in the unlatching of the front door, but might involve
+explanations, difficult, in the circumstances, to make. There was no
+help for it, however. Duvall pressed the bell belonging to the family
+named Scully.
+
+It was a long time before there was any response. Duvall had almost
+begun to despair of getting one, when he heard the clicking of the
+electric latch, and found that he could turn the knob and enter the
+hallway.
+
+He had barely done so, when at big, burly-looking man, who might have
+been a bartender, or a head waiter, appeared in the door of one of the
+ground floor apartments, clad only in his night clothes.
+
+"Well--whatcha want?" he growled.
+
+Duvall stepped up to him quickly, and spoke in a pleasant voice.
+
+"I'm mighty sorry," he said. "I rang your bell by mistake. Pardon me."
+
+The man glared at him, suspicion blazing from his eyes.
+
+"That's an old one," he retorted. "How do I know you ain't a burglar?"
+
+"Do I look like one?" Duvall asked.
+
+The man ignored this question.
+
+"Rang my bell by mistake, did you? Who do you want to see?"
+
+"I have some business with a lady on the fourth floor." He went closer
+to the man, and lowered his voice. "I'm a detective, my friend," he
+whispered confidentially. "I'm here on a very important case."
+
+The big man's eyes widened.
+
+"Th' hell you are!" he exclaimed. "Central office?"
+
+"No. Private."
+
+"H--m." The man nodded slowly. "All right. But I guess I'll keep my eye
+on you, just the same." He leaned against the door jamb and watched
+Duvall as he ascended the stairs.
+
+The detective reached the fourth floor at top speed. He was panting,
+when he arrived opposite the door of the apartment he sought. Once
+there, he paused for a moment, listening intently. Not a sound came from
+the interior of the flat.
+
+The problem of obtaining access to the place now confronted him. The
+door was of oak of stout construction. He doubted his ability to break
+it in, nor did he wish to attempt to do so, if it could be avoided.
+Breaking into private apartments, without a warrant, was a serious
+matter. There was a chance that this might not be the right place, after
+all. He hesitated. Yet Grace might be within, in danger, perhaps, of her
+life. It was imperative that he should find out the truth at once.
+
+Stepping up to the door, he knocked sharply upon it, then waited for a
+reply. He scarcely expected one, but felt that he should at least give
+the persons within a chance.
+
+A long silence ensued. Duvall was about to rap again, when, to his
+amazement, the door slowly and noiselessly swung inward, as though
+impelled by some unseen hand.
+
+The room beyond was shrouded in darkness. Duvall could see no one.
+Whoever had opened the door must now be concealed behind it. No one
+either greeted or challenged him. The door swung three-quarters open,
+and stood still. Not a sound was to be heard. The room was as silent as
+a tomb.
+
+Duvall stood on the threshold for a few seconds, listening intently. He
+was greatly astonished by what had occurred. Why had the door been so
+silently opened? Was someone waiting within, ready to attack him the
+moment he made a step forward?
+
+Whether this was the case or not, nothing, he reflected, was to be
+gained by remaining where he was. Drawing an automatic pistol from his
+pocket, he held it in readiness in his right hand, then, raising his
+left arm, he flung his entire weight against the partly opened door.
+
+The door yielded to his attack. Then there came a dull thud, as though
+some heavy body had fallen to the floor, and immediately after the
+hallway resounded with a series of unearthly screams. Duvall still moved
+forward. Then, to his utter surprise, there appeared in the darkness a
+grotesque figure, which immediately hurled itself upon him and began to
+clutch frantically at his throat.
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER XVIII
+
+
+It would be difficult to describe the feelings of Grace Duvall when,
+after having traced the mysterious woman who had attacked Ruth Morton,
+to the flat at Columbus Avenue and Ninety-sixth Street, she had
+foolishly entered the place, and allowed herself to be attacked.
+
+The woman's onslaught had been so sudden, so unexpected, that Grace was
+entirely unable to offer any defense.
+
+Her cries for help had been smothered at once and with the woman's thin
+but muscular fingers clutching at her throat, she found herself forced
+violently back upon a low couch that stood immediately behind her.
+
+For a few moments she struggled violently, striving with both her hands
+to break her assailant's hold upon her, but her efforts were in vain.
+Slowly she realized that she was being choked into unconsciousness. The
+objects in the room, the woman's set face, whirled dimly before her
+eyes, and then everything became blank.
+
+When she once more recovered consciousness, she found herself still
+lying upon the couch. Her throat ached fearfully, and there was a dull
+roaring in her head.
+
+She opened her eyes and looked about. The room was quite dark. Only a
+very faint glow came through the windows at its further end--the dim
+reflection of the lights in the street. So far as she could determine,
+she was alone.
+
+She tried to move her arms, her feet, but found them bound fast. A
+moment later she realized that a piece of cloth of some sort, tightly
+rolled, had been forced into her mouth. She could not utter a sound.
+
+There was no one in the room, but from the one which adjoined it in the
+rear came the murmur of voices.
+
+By twisting her head about she was able to learn that the door
+connecting the two was ajar, and through the narrow opening came a thin
+ribbon of light.
+
+As her senses became clearer, she realized that two persons were in the
+room beyond her, and from the sounds they made, the words which from
+time to time came to her ears, it appeared that they were engaged in the
+operation of packing.
+
+At first the words that filtered through the partly open doorway were
+mere fragments of conversation--words spoken here and there in a
+slightly higher key, and therefore distinguishable to her. She made out
+that her captors supposed her to be still unconscious--that they were
+preparing to leave the place.
+
+"There's no hurry," she presently heard one of the women say, in a
+somewhat louder voice. "If she had had friends waiting outside for her,
+they would have come to her rescue long ago. I'm sure nobody knows where
+she is."
+
+"And her husband had gone, long before I left the house. I was watching,
+and he first went to a saloon on the corner, and then drove off in a
+taxicab. So I couldn't have been followed here."
+
+"No. But I think we ought to get away as soon as possible. When does
+that train go?"
+
+"Not until half past five."
+
+"We'll have to wait in the station, then."
+
+"Why not here?"
+
+"Because that woman's husband, when she fails to return to-night, is
+certain to look for her. She probably came in a cab, and he might trace
+her that way. My advice is to leave here as soon as possible. Have you
+finished packing that suit case?"
+
+"No, not quite. What do you propose to do with Jack?"
+
+"I was going to take him with me."
+
+"I don't see how you can do that."
+
+"Why not?"
+
+"Because, if any attempt is made to follow us, he would be a certain
+means of identification."
+
+There was silence for a time. Grace heard the sounds of drawers being
+opened and shut, as the two women hurried through their task. Who was
+Jack, she wondered? There had been no sounds to indicate the presence of
+a third person in the next room.
+
+Presently she heard the voices again.
+
+"I think the whole affair has been a mistake, anyway," one of them said
+petulantly. "I don't see what you have gained by it."
+
+"I've gotten my revenge on that baby-faced Morton girl. The stuck-up
+thing. I'll bet she won't act again in a hurry. What right has she to be
+getting a thousand a week, when they wouldn't give me a chance at any
+price. I may not be as good-looking as she is, but I'm a better actress.
+I hate her. I believe she told the director I wouldn't do--that's why I
+didn't get the job. And after running down to the studio every day for
+three weeks, too. I hate her, I tell you. I hope she's never able to act
+again." The woman spoke with an intensity, a violence that made Grace
+shudder.
+
+"How do you ever suppose they came to connect _me_ with the matter?" the
+other woman said after a time. "They didn't know my address, at the
+studio. And even if they had, I have never been seen with you. I don't
+see why they ever suspected me."
+
+"I don't know. That man Duvall is pretty shrewd, though. I _did_ manage
+to get away from him, the other night. I'd like to have seen his face,
+when he got back to the cab and found me gone."
+
+"His wife followed you here, from the hotel, I suppose. You took an
+awful chance."
+
+"I don't understand how she traced me. I knew she was following me, and
+when she saw me go up in the elevator, at the hotel, I expected her to
+come, too. I was afraid they might prevent me from coming down, while
+they were coming up, so I walked down. I watched, from the stairs, and
+saw her and the clerk get out of the elevator on the floor where that
+girl's apartment was. Then I came down the stairs and went out the side
+entrance. I knew she was upstairs, when I left, and I don't see how she
+traced me."
+
+"Perhaps she had her taxi driver do it."
+
+"That's just about it. And if he did, like as not he's waiting for her
+yet."
+
+The other woman laughed.
+
+"Nice wait he'll have," she said.
+
+"That's all very well, but won't he see us going out?"
+
+"Suppose he does. Anyway, it's dark, and we'll wear veils. And we won't
+go out together. But I don't think he'll wait so long."
+
+"If he doesn't, he'll go back to the hotel and report, and then the
+woman's husband will be up here in no time. I think we'd better get out
+now. You'll have to leave the trunk. There's nothing much in it."
+
+Again there was a long silence. Then Grace heard the door open, and the
+two women came into the room, carrying their suitcases. She closed her
+eyes and pretended to be still unconscious. One of the women paused
+beside her.
+
+"If they don't find out where she is," she whispered to her companion,
+"she's likely to stay here and starve to death."
+
+"I shouldn't be sorry," the other snarled. "But if you feel badly about
+it, it's easy enough to telephone to-morrow and tell the janitor to let
+her out. No chance of a cab, I guess."
+
+"No. Not at this hour. We'll take the car down to Forty-second Street,
+and cross over. Are you ready?"
+
+"Yes. I'd better put out the light, though."
+
+"All right." The first woman moved to the door, while the second
+returned to the bedroom and snapped off the light. A moment later Grace
+saw her ghostly figure pass the couch, and then the snapping of the door
+catch told her that she was alone.
+
+The thought was anything but a pleasant one. If Richard did not happen
+to remember Leary--she knew she had mentioned him in connection with the
+address on the torn card he had given her--it was by no means impossible
+that she might lie where she was, helpless, for days. And in that event,
+starvation, or what was worse, thirst, might very readily serve to
+fulfill the woman's predictions. She shivered at the thought of spending
+hours, days, in this place alone.
+
+But was she alone? Until now, she had supposed so, in spite of the
+woman's remarks about "Jack," for she had heard not the slightest sound.
+Presently she became aware of a slow, regular scraping sound, that
+seemed to come from one of the rear rooms. It suggested something alive,
+something moving about with stealthy footsteps. Then, all of a sudden,
+there came a loud crash.
+
+Grace gave an involuntary cry, or what would have been a cry, had she
+not been so effectually gagged. The knowledge that she lay helpless,
+unable to protect herself from attack, frightened her. She turned her
+head, straining her eyes into the semi-darkness. Something, some figure,
+was moving toward her from the bedroom, gliding along with swaying,
+noiseless steps. What it was, she could not determine; from its
+appearance against the darkness of the doorway it looked like a crawling
+figure in black.
+
+Presently she heard the sound of breathing, and with it a mumbling
+noise, as though the apparition were talking to itself. Two eyes seemed
+to gleam through the darkness. There was a hissing yet guttural sound,
+human in quality, yet horrible to her ears.
+
+And then, without warning, the figure sprang toward her, and flung its
+arms about her neck.
+
+With a gasp of fear, Grace turned and buried her face in the pillows.
+Fingers seemed clutching at her hair. An arm, wearing a silken sleeve,
+brushed her cheek, lay across her throat. A low voice muttered
+unintelligibly in her ear, filling her with horror. She felt her senses
+reeling. She thought herself about to faint.
+
+Then, in a moment, the creature was gone, and she heard it moving
+noisily about the further end of the room.
+
+From time to time there came a crash, as though in the darkness it had
+upset something. Then would follow long, uncanny periods of stillness,
+broken only by the horrible muttering. She lay with her head buried in
+the pillows, wondering at what instant the figure would again appear at
+her side.
+
+For a long time she remained thus, straining her ears to keep track of
+the creature's movements. And as the moments passed, she began to take
+courage, to hope that since no harm had as yet been offered her, the
+_thing_ in the room, whatever it was, might not come near her again.
+
+It appeared to have crept to the door, and from it came a low, quite
+human whimpering, as though it were in great grief. Perhaps, Grace
+thought, this was caused by the absence of the two women. She lay quite
+still, trying vainly to free her hands from their encircling bands,
+praying silently that Richard would come to her assistance. Her nerves
+were badly shaken. She contemplated hours, even days of such a situation
+with terror. At least, however, the coming of the dawn would bring one
+relief. She would be able to see what this uncanny thing was that shared
+her captivity.
+
+Suddenly she became aware that some one was ascending the stairs in the
+hall outside. Could it be Richard coming to her assistance? She strained
+her ears, fearing that it might be only one of the tenants of the
+apartment above, returning home at a late hour.
+
+The creature at the door had apparently also heard the approaching
+sound, for its whimperings ceased. Grace could tell by its movements
+that it had risen. There was a faint sound of fingers sliding over the
+polished surface of the door. The steps outside came to a halt.
+
+With all her force Grace tried to cry out, but the gag prevented her
+from uttering a sound. Then there came a sharp knocking at the door.
+
+The figure before it seemed to be fumbling noiselessly with the catch.
+In a moment Grace felt, rather than saw, that the door had been opened.
+Another interval of silence came, and then the person outside flung
+himself heavily forward.
+
+The silence of the room was broken by a fall, a succession of unearthly
+screams. Grace saw a dark body go hurtling through the air, and then
+came the sharp, vicious crack of a pistol. The next thing she saw was
+her husband, bending over her, flashing an electric torch in her face.
+With frightened eyes she looked up at him and tried to smile.
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER XIX
+
+
+The first thing that Duvall did, after releasing Grace from her bonds,
+was to take her in his arms and kiss her. Then he found the electric
+switch upon the wall and turned on the lights.
+
+"What--what was it?" Grace asked, staring before her in horror.
+
+"What was what?" he questioned.
+
+"That--that thing that was locked in here with me."
+
+"Poor creature. A monkey. I'm sorry I had to shoot it." He pointed to a
+crumpled figure on the floor dressed in a gay costume of red silk.
+
+"But--what was a monkey doing here?"
+
+"I'll explain all that later. Where is the woman?" He glanced toward the
+silent bedroom.
+
+"They have gone?"
+
+"They?"
+
+"Yes. There were two."
+
+"Ah! The Ford girl. I might have known. Where did they go?"
+
+"I--I don't know. To the station, I think. They said something about
+waiting there for a train."
+
+"What station?"
+
+"They didn't say. But they spoke of taking a car to 42nd Street, and
+crossing over. It must have been the Grand Central."
+
+"Or possibly the West Shore. We'll have to try both. Are you able to
+leave now?"
+
+Grace straightened out her stiffened limbs.
+
+"Yes--I--guess so."
+
+"Then come along."
+
+As they started to leave the place, two men confronted them at the door.
+One was Mr. Scully, he of the ground-floor apartment, the other a short,
+thickset man, who at once announced himself as the janitor of the
+building.
+
+"What's going on up here?" he questioned. "I heard a shot."
+
+Duvall pointed to the crumpled heap on the floor.
+
+"I had to shoot it, though I'm sorry now that I did. It attacked me in
+the dark. I couldn't afford to take any chances. My wife was locked in
+here, and was, so far as I knew, in grave danger."
+
+"Your wife?" The man glanced at Grace.
+
+"Yes."
+
+"But--where is Miss Norman? And how did that monkey get in here?"
+
+"Miss Norman left here some time ago. Another woman, by the name of
+Ford, was with her. She brought the monkey."
+
+"What for?"
+
+"I imagine she didn't want to leave it at her rooms. She did not expect
+to return there."
+
+"And Miss Norman's gone, you say?"
+
+"Yes."
+
+"Where to?"
+
+"I don't just know, but I mean to find out at once. She has been guilty
+of a grave offense, on account of which I have been trying to lay my
+hands on her for several days. My wife tells me she took most of her
+belongings with her in her flight."
+
+"Flight, eh?" the man growled. "And she owes us a month's rent. I hope
+you find her."
+
+"I think I shall. Meanwhile, suppose you wait here in the apartment, in
+case, for any reason, she comes back. If I find her I shall bring her
+here at once, and unless the place is open I couldn't very well get in."
+
+"All right." The man glanced about the disordered room. "That damned
+monkey has smashed a lamp and a lot of ornaments that somebody's got to
+pay for. Miss Norman rented this place furnished."
+
+Duvall made no reply, but nodding to Grace, led the way to the hall.
+
+"I'll be back soon, whether I find the woman or not," he said. "I've got
+some investigations to make here."
+
+Accompanied by Grace, he descended to the cab. Leary seemed overjoyed to
+realize that Grace was safe, and began a long apology for his
+carelessness in not waiting for her earlier in the evening, but Duvall
+cut him short.
+
+"Good thing you didn't," he said. "By coming back to the hotel and
+leaving the note for Mrs. Duvall, you made it possible for me to find
+her, and if I hadn't"--he paused and looked at Grace with a troubled
+face--"there's no knowing what might have happened. Tell the chauffeur
+to drive to the Grand Central Station."
+
+It was three o'clock when the cab drew up at the curb. In spite of the
+lateness of the hour, there were a good many persons moving in and out
+of the station. Duvall got out and motioned to Grace and Leary to do the
+same.
+
+"We will all go in by different doors," he explained, "and meet in the
+general waiting-room. If the women are not there, Mrs. Duvall will look
+through the women's room. If you see them, and they make no effort to
+escape, wait for me to join you. If they do try to get away, detain them
+until I come."
+
+It was Duvall himself, however, who first caught sight of the objects of
+their pursuit. They sat, both apparently asleep, on a bench in one
+corner of the main waiting room. The detective was not certain of their
+identity, heavily veiled as they were, until he had gone quite close up
+to them. Then he saw that they were Miss Ford and the woman who had
+escaped from him while in the cab the night before.
+
+He leaned over and tapped the Ford girl on the shoulder.
+
+"Wake up, Miss Ford," he exclaimed.
+
+The girl shivered, then struggled to her feet. Her companion appeared to
+be too dazed to move, although she opened her eyes and stared at him
+with a vague and terrified face.
+
+"Will you come with me quietly," he said, "or shall I call a policeman
+and have you put under arrest for the attack upon my wife?" He addressed
+himself more particularly to the woman who was sitting.
+
+She now rose and made a movement as though to attempt to escape. Duvall
+grasped her by the arm.
+
+"It will be quite useless to attempt it, Miss Norman," he said. "I have
+help close at hand in case it is needed." He glanced toward Grace and
+Leary, who were now approaching. "I do not wish to use any violence, of
+course, but you and your friend are going back to the apartment on
+Ninety-sixth Street with me."
+
+His voice, his manner, made it apparent to the two women that escape was
+hopeless. They seemed suddenly to realize it, to give up further ideas
+of resistance.
+
+"Very well," Miss Norman said, "we will go."
+
+"Good." Duvall turned to Leary. "Take those two suit cases, Leary, and
+get another cab." In silence the little party made its way to the
+street. The two women said nothing on the way back to the apartment, and
+Duvall did not question them. There was time enough for that, he
+reflected, after they reached their destination. Within less than an
+hour from the time of their departure, their entire party was back in
+the woman's apartment.
+
+The janitor was still there on guard, but the body of the dead monkey
+had been removed. Duvall, requesting Leary to remain, closed the door.
+The janitor rose and came toward them.
+
+"Look here, Miss Norman," he began, "who's going to pay for that broken
+lamp and them vases and ornaments?"
+
+The woman regarded him with a stare, but said nothing.
+
+"Never mind about those things now," Duvall said. "They can remain. I
+have some questions of much greater importance to ask these ladies. You
+need not wait. In fact, I should prefer that you did not. The matter is
+a private one." The janitor took his departure, grumbling to himself,
+and Duvall closed and bolted the door. Then he requested the two women
+to be seated. They obeyed without a word.
+
+"Why did you send those threatening messages to Miss Morton?" he
+suddenly asked, addressing himself to Miss Norman.
+
+She faced him defiantly.
+
+"I'll answer no questions," she flung at him. "You can't prove I sent
+anybody any messages."
+
+"Do you deny it, then?"
+
+"Yes!"
+
+Duvall turned to Grace.
+
+"You saw this woman enter Miss Morton's hotel to-night and go up in the
+elevator, did you not?"
+
+"Certainly!"
+
+"Do you deny that?" The detective once more addressed Miss Norman.
+
+"No. What of it? How do you know I went to Miss Morton's room?" Her
+defiance was in no way lessened. Duvall saw that she meant to deny her
+guilt utterly. He turned to Leary.
+
+"This woman came to you, did she not, with a request that you spy on my
+wife's movements, and inform her concerning them?"
+
+The chauffeur nodded.
+
+"Yes, sir. She did."
+
+Again Miss Norman spoke.
+
+"Suppose I did. What then?"
+
+"You will admit, I presume, that you fainted at the theatre the other
+night when the picture of the death's-head seal was thrown on the
+screen, and that later you escaped from the cab in which I had placed
+you?"
+
+"Certainly I will admit it. The hideous thing startled me. As for
+escaping from the cab, I had every reason to do so. You had not only
+attempted to drug me, but after that you tried to steal the contents of
+my purse. You are the one who ought to be arrested, not I."
+
+The woman's attitude began to annoy Duvall, especially as, so far, he
+realized fully that the evidence against her was entirely circumstantial
+and vague. He turned away, and began to search the rooms.
+
+The search, although he conducted it with the utmost minuteness, was
+quite unproductive of results. If the woman possessed a typewriter, she
+had apparently made away with it. The scrap basket contained nothing but
+a few torn bits of paper of no value. There was no stationery on the
+small desk in the living room, no black sealing wax, such as had been
+used to make the seals. Duvall began to realize that the case against
+his prisoner was far from complete. Returning from a fruitless search of
+the bedroom, Duvall's eye fell upon the two suitcases that the women had
+carried in their flight. He bent over to them at once, and proceeded to
+open them, one after the other.
+
+"Search them, please." He nodded to Grace.
+
+The latter did so with the utmost care, but found nothing of an
+incriminating nature. The two women sat in stony silence, showing little
+interest in the proceedings. Duvall went over to them.
+
+"Show me your rings," he said to Miss Norman.
+
+The woman held out her hand.
+
+"Take them off."
+
+She stripped from her finger three rings. One was a gold seal with a
+monogram upon it, another a cheap affair set with pearls, the third a
+twisted gold band. None of the rings contained the mysterious
+death's-head seal, or could in any way have concealed it.
+
+An examination of Miss Ford's stock of jewelry produced no better
+results.
+
+"Let me see the contents of your purse," Duvall said, indicating a
+leather bag the Norman woman carried on her wrist.
+
+She handed the bag over with an almost imperceptible smile. Duvall
+examined it but without result. The seal was not inside. Nor did Miss
+Ford's purse, a silver one, contain anything worthy of his notice. He
+handed the two back.
+
+"Anything else you would like to see?" Miss Norman asked with cutting
+irony.
+
+Duvall walked over to the window and looked out. It was still quite
+dark. The woman's assurance puzzled him. It was quite clear now that
+unless he could find the typewriter, the letter paper, the missing seal,
+and could connect this woman with them, there remained but a single way
+in which she could be connected with the attacks upon Miss Morton, and
+that would be by the direct testimony of the motion-picture actress
+herself, concerning the woman's visit to her room. But suppose the visit
+had been made in disguise. It would have been simple enough to have put
+on a mask on entering the room and subsequently have thrown it away. And
+Miss Morton, frightened as she had been, might be totally unable to
+identify her assailant. She had covered her tracks well. Was she then to
+go free?
+
+The matter of the typewriter Duvall put aside for the moment. The woman
+might readily have a friend who possessed one--a hotel stenographer,
+perhaps, who had permitted her to make use of her machine. But the seal
+was a matter of more importance. His examination of the several
+impressions had shown him that it was extremely well carved--a decidedly
+expensive piece of work. Of course, the woman might have thrown it away
+during her flight, but it seemed unlikely. What had she done with it?
+The question was one to which he felt he must find an answer.
+
+Again, with Grace's assistance, he examined the articles in the women's
+suitcases, testing the backs of hairbrushes, the contents of powder
+boxes, the interior of a cake of soap, a bottle of shoe blackening, but
+the search was as unproductive of results as before. Duvall was forced,
+against his will, to the conclusion that the woman had made away with
+the seal, rather than run the risk of its being found upon her person.
+
+"Is there anything more you want of us?" Miss Norman asked, when he had
+again closed the suitcases. "If not, my friend and I would like to go."
+She rose as though to take her departure.
+
+"Yes. There is one thing more. You will have to go to Mrs. Morton's
+hotel with me, so that her daughter may have an opportunity to identify
+you. But it is far too early to start now. I will send out presently and
+have some breakfast brought in."
+
+It was beginning to grow light now. Duvall suggested to Grace that she
+had better go out into the little kitchenette at the rear of the
+apartment and see if she couldn't find the materials for preparing some
+coffee. He himself sat down at the little writing desk, and proceeded
+once more to examine its varnished surface with the greatest care. He
+had thought, if the letters had been sealed here, there would in all
+probability be some tiny spots of the black sealing wax upon the desk
+top, but he could discover nothing. Presently he heard Grace calling to
+him from the kitchen.
+
+Directing Leary to keep an eye on the two women, he joined her at once.
+
+"What is it?" he asked. "Have you discovered anything?"
+
+"No, not exactly. But--what does that mean?" She pointed to a candle
+which stood in a tin holder on the table. "Do you notice the spots of
+black wax on the candlestick?"
+
+Duvall took the candlestick up and looked at it. There were large
+splashes of sealing wax all over the bottom of the tin tray, not minute
+spots, such as might have been made by the dropping of bits of the hot
+wax in making a seal, but circular splotches half an inch or more in
+diameter, as though a great quantity of the material had been melted.
+
+"What do you make of it?" Duvall asked.
+
+"I don't know. Looks as though she had melted up the whole stick, for
+some reason or other. Possibly to destroy it."
+
+"Hardly that. It would have been far easier to have simply thrown it out
+of the window. And besides, the mere possession of a stick of sealing
+wax, black or otherwise, could not be regarded as evidence. This woman
+is smart, very smart and shrewd. She did not melt that wax up for
+nothing. I think I have an idea of her purpose, although I cannot, of
+course, be sure, yet. Did you find some coffee?"
+
+"Yes. I'll have it ready very soon. What do you make of this woman's
+attitude?"
+
+"It is simple enough. She believes that she can bluff this thing out
+without it being possible to prove her the author of the letters. And
+she may be right. Certainly, unless Miss Morton can identify her, or we
+can discover the death's-head seal in her possession, she stands a very
+good chance of getting away scot free."
+
+The coffee which Grace presently brought in was drunk by the whole party
+in silence. Duvall seemed unusually preoccupied. His eyes scarcely left
+Miss Norman; he appeared to be studying her, watching her every movement
+with extraordinary interest, although he strove, by assuming a careless
+indifference, to disguise his scrutiny. Grace, who knew his methods,
+realized that the sealing wax in the candlestick had suggested some clue
+to him, which he was trying his best to work out.
+
+At about seven o'clock Leary was sent out to fetch some breakfast. By
+half past eight they were ready to go to see Mrs. Morton.
+
+Before doing so, Duvall thought it wise to call the latter up and make
+arrangements about their coming. He presently got Mrs. Morton on the
+wire.
+
+"Good morning, Mrs. Morton. How is your daughter?" he asked.
+
+"Much better," the reply came. "Very much better. I am going to take her
+back to the apartment at once."
+
+"The apartment?"
+
+"Yes. She will be more comfortable there, and safer, too, I think. We
+came here on your advice so that we might escape this fearful
+persecution. But since the persons who have been threatening my daughter
+have discovered our whereabouts, I see no reason for remaining any
+longer. Do you?"
+
+"No. I was going to suggest that you should return. I think I can quite
+safely assure you that there will be no recurrence of the threats."
+
+"Why do you say that?"
+
+"Because I think the woman who has been making them is now in my hands.
+I will bring her to the apartment a little later in the morning so that
+your daughter may identify her. Will eleven o'clock suit you?"
+
+"Yes, very well."
+
+"Then I will come at that hour. Good-by." He hung up the receiver and
+turned to speak to Grace. His eyes, however, sought the figure of Miss
+Norman. She had not anticipated his quick scrutiny, and had for the
+moment ceased to be on her guard. Duvall smiled to himself. The theory
+which the spots of sealing wax had suggested had in that moment received
+an unexpected confirmation.
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER XX
+
+
+Ruth Morton had received a fearful shock the evening before, but by the
+morning she had recovered from the immediate effects of it, although she
+still felt extremely weak.
+
+When Duvall and his little party arrived at the apartment on
+Fifty-seventh Street, they were received in the library by Mrs. Morton.
+
+She greeted both Grace and Duvall cordially, but it was evident, from
+her manner, that she found the presence of the Norman woman and Miss
+Ford highly distasteful to her.
+
+Duvall drew her to one side, leaving the two women in charge of Leary
+and Grace.
+
+"How is your daughter now, Mrs. Morton?" he asked.
+
+"Better, I think."
+
+"May I see her for a few moments?"
+
+"Yes. She is expecting you. Come this way, please. She is occupying my
+room at present. She still has a fear of the other one--the one she
+formerly used."
+
+"I see. But she need not have it now. There will be no further trouble."
+He followed Mrs. Morton into her bedroom.
+
+Ruth, looking very haggard and white, was sitting in an easy chair by
+the window. Duvall was amazed to note how terribly the shock of the
+night before had affected her.
+
+"How do you do, Miss Morton," he said, offering his hand. "I am glad to
+find you almost yourself again."
+
+The girl looked up with a faint smile.
+
+"Thank you, Mr. Duvall. I am much better. I understand that you have
+found out who has been causing me all this trouble."
+
+"I think I have. But before I go ahead I want you to give me a little
+assistance. Do you think you would know the woman who came to your rooms
+last night, in case you should see her again?"
+
+Miss Morton shuddered.
+
+"I--I don't know. I do not think I saw her face. It was all so very
+sudden----"
+
+"Tell me about it," Duvall said. "It may help me to get at the facts.
+That is, if you feel able to do so."
+
+"I think I do. What shall I tell you?"
+
+"Just describe, in a few words, what happened."
+
+"Well, as you know, I had been feeling rather better yesterday, and had
+begun to rather laugh at my fears. Mother was with me constantly, and
+Nora as well, and I began to feel quite cheerful again, especially as I
+knew that you were making splendid progress and had found the woman who
+had been writing me. Mother told me that you expected to arrest her
+before the day was over. She said your wife had been helping you, too.
+
+"After dinner Nora, who had been in the hotel all day, asked permission
+to go out for awhile and mother told her she might go. The poor girl had
+been almost a prisoner since we arrived at the hotel. That was about
+eight o'clock.
+
+"About half past eight a boy came to the room with a card, upon which
+was written your wife's name, and a note asking if she might see mother
+for a few moments. We both looked at the card and then mother decided to
+go down and see her. She instructed me to lock the door while she was
+out, and of course I did so.
+
+"In a few minutes mother came back. She seemed greatly excited, said
+that she had seen Mrs. Duvall and that you had sent a message to the
+effect that you had arrested the woman who had been threatening me and
+wanted mother to come to your hotel at once to appear against her in
+court. It was necessary, the woman who pretended to be your wife said,
+that mother should come at once, as otherwise the woman couldn't be
+held.
+
+"We talked the matter over for a few moments and I told her that I
+thought she ought to go. She seemed rather afraid to leave me alone, but
+I promised to keep the door locked, and anyway, as I pointed out to her,
+if the woman was arrested I had nothing further to fear.
+
+"At last mother decided she would go, and left me. I locked the door as
+soon as she went out.
+
+"It seemed to me a very few moments before I heard some one rapping. At
+first I supposed that mother had come back for some reason or other.
+Then I thought it might be Nora who had said she was only going out for
+a breath of air. So, suspecting nothing, I unlocked the door and opened
+it.
+
+"A woman came in, very quickly, before I realized it. She was not tall,
+and rather slight, and I think she had light hair. I couldn't see her
+face well because she had twisted a black veil across it, hiding her
+eyes and the upper part of her features. She turned as soon as she got
+in the room and locked the door.
+
+"I was too surprised for a moment to speak, then I asked her what she
+wanted.
+
+"'I want you,' she said in a terrible voice, and I saw that she was
+taking a bottle from her handbag.
+
+"I was so frightened that I could not cry out, although I tried. You
+see, the warnings I had received had gotten me so worked up that my
+nerves were all on edge, and as soon as I saw the bottle, I concluded
+that the woman was about to throw vitriol in my face. So I put my hands
+to my eyes and ran into the bedroom.
+
+"The woman came behind me, saying that my looks would soon be gone, that
+my days as an actress were over, and other things like that which I
+scarcely heard I was so frightened. When she got to me she caught hold
+of my arm and pulled me around, facing her.
+
+"I couldn't keep my eyes closed now, for I simply _had_ to see what she
+was doing. It seemed worse not looking at her, and then I thought I
+might take the bottle away from her and save myself in that way. So I
+took my hands from my face and rushed toward her.
+
+"Then she raised the bottle and dashed something into my face.
+
+"It seemed hot, stinging, and made my eyes burn frightfully. I was sure
+it was vitriol, and the thought was too much for me I guess, for I felt
+myself falling and--well, that's all I remember until I woke up and
+found the doctor and mother there. It was a terrible experience. I could
+scarcely believe them, when they told me, after I came to, that I wasn't
+really hurt at all."
+
+Duvall looked at the girl's face. It showed no signs of injury, although
+her eyes were red and inflamed.
+
+"Then it wasn't vitriol after all?" he asked, wondering.
+
+"No, it apparently wasn't. The doctor said he thought it must have been
+ammonia."
+
+"Remarkable!" Duvall muttered to himself. "Why should she have gone to
+all that trouble, just to frighten you?"
+
+"That's apparently all she intended to do from the start. Do you know,
+Mr. Duvall, I've been thinking this thing over, and I believe her whole
+plan from the beginning was merely to ruin me in my work by _fear_. And
+I must say that she very nearly succeeded."
+
+"Very nearly," said Duvall, with a frown. "If this thing had kept up for
+another week or two, you would have been a complete nervous wreck."
+
+"I am now, I'm afraid," Miss Morton said, sadly. "I don't feel as though
+I could act again for a long time."
+
+"Oh, yes, you will. You have youth, and that is everything. And now,
+tell me, do you think if you took a look at this woman you might
+recognize her?"
+
+The girl shuddered.
+
+"Is she--here?" she asked.
+
+"Yes. In the library."
+
+"You think it would be quite safe?"
+
+"Quite. She can do you no harm while I am here."
+
+"Very well. I will see her if you wish it, but I am very much afraid
+that I shall not be able to identify her." Duvall held out his hand.
+
+"Come," he said. "I will take you in."
+
+Miss Morton rose, and walking slowly and with considerable effort, went
+with him into the front room. Standing in the doorway, with the
+detective beside her, she confronted the two women. They regarded her
+with stony indifference.
+
+"Miss Morton," Duvall said, "do you recognize either of these two women
+as the one who attacked you in your rooms last night?"
+
+The girl gazed helplessly from Miss Ford to her companion and back
+again. Then she slowly shook her head.
+
+"No," she said. "It might have been either of them. They look somewhat
+alike. But as for saying which one it was, if it _was_ either of them,
+I'm afraid I can't. The woman was veiled. The room was not brightly
+lighted. And I was very much frightened."
+
+The look of disappointment in Duvall's face was reflected in that of
+both Grace and Mrs. Morton. The two women, on the contrary, seemed
+vastly relieved. Miss Norman's mouth curled in rather an ironical smile.
+
+"Are you through with this inquisition now?" she asked. "For if you are,
+my friend and myself would like to continue our journey. You have had no
+right to bring us here in the first place, and I am strongly considering
+making a complaint against you for having done so." She grasped firmly
+the umbrella she had held in her hand all the morning, and turned as
+though to go. Leary, however, stood before the door.
+
+"You apparently have forgotten," Duvall remarked, going toward her,
+"that I still have a charge against you for attacking my wife."
+
+"Very well; make it. I can prove that your wife forcibly entered my
+apartment under false pretense, saying that she was collecting money for
+the war sufferers in Poland. If I attacked her, it was in self-defense."
+
+"That isn't true," cried Grace. "You sprang at me----"
+
+"My word is as good as yours," Miss Norman interrupted. "And my friend
+here will bear out what I say." She nodded to Miss Ford. "You also," she
+again faced Duvall, "broke into my apartment without warrant and killed
+my pet monkey. You will have to answer for that as well. You have
+accused me of sending threatening letters to this girl here. I defy you
+to prove it."
+
+Duvall, who had been coming nearer the woman all the time, reached out
+and snatched from her hands the umbrella she held. The others in the
+room regarded him with astonishment. The woman herself gave a cry of
+anger, and starting forward tried to recover her lost property.
+
+Duvall yielded it to her at once, but not before he had torn from the
+handle two small round balls covered with knitted silk that hung from it
+by a heavy silken cord.
+
+Miss Norman, seeing what he had done, drew back with a cry of anger. A
+few incoherent words trailed from her lips. Duvall, paying no attention
+to her, ripped open one of the silk-meshed coverings and extracted from
+it a small, round black object about the size of a hickory nut.
+
+He gazed at it for a moment, then going quickly to the table in the
+center of the room brought the thing down smartly upon its surface.
+
+There was a crackling sound, and bits of some black substance flew in
+every direction. A moment later the detective raised in his hand a
+glittering bit of metal and held it up so that the others might see it.
+
+"The death's-head seal," he said, quietly.
+
+Miss Norman fell on her knees before Ruth Morton, her hands upraised.
+
+"Forgive me--forgive me!" she sobbed.
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER XXI
+
+
+"In reconstructing the case from the beginning," Duvall said, later in
+the day, "one fact stands out with especial prominence--the almost total
+absence of any definite clues."
+
+He was sitting in the library of the Morton apartment, and with him were
+his wife, Mrs. Morton and Ruth.
+
+"The thing was certainly very cleverly done," Mrs. Morton remarked. "I
+still do not understand it in the least. How, for instance, were the
+letters placed in my daughter's room?"
+
+"I am coming to that," replied Duvall. "But first I will run over the
+case in the light of Miss Norman's confession to me so that you may
+understand it thoroughly and decide what action you wish to take against
+her and her sister, Miss Ford."
+
+"Her sister?"
+
+"Yes. The woman's name is not Norman. It is Ford--Jane Ford. Norman is
+an assumed name.
+
+"The two of them came to New York about a year ago from somewhere up the
+state--a small town near Rochester, I believe. One secured employment in
+the motion picture studio--the other, the one calling herself Miss
+Norman, worked as a stenographer.
+
+"Her interest in motion pictures having been aroused by her sister's
+stories of the life in the studio, she became an ardent picture 'fan,'
+and spent every evening watching the films.
+
+"Her attention was particularly devoted to the pictures in which your
+daughter appeared, owing to the stories her sister told her about Miss
+Morton's marvelous salary, her beauty, the ease with which she had
+become famous.
+
+"These stories naturally inflamed her sister's mind. Working for ten
+dollars a week, she began to compare her state with that of a girl of
+her own age earning a hundred times as much, and gradually the idea
+began to possess her that she could become a motion-picture star
+herself.
+
+"At first she admired Miss Morton immensely and never missed an
+opportunity to see the pictures in which she appeared. Then, convinced
+of her own ability as an actress, she made application at the studio at
+which her sister worked for a position.
+
+"It seems she haunted the studio for several weeks without getting any
+encouragement. Then, more to get rid of her than for any other reason,
+one of the directors offered her a place as extra woman in a picture
+Miss Morton was doing--a very minor part, in which she had to appear
+momentarily as a saleswoman at a counter in a department store.
+
+"Unfortunately, when Miss Morton saw her she happened to say to the
+director that she would have preferred a woman of a different type,
+dark, taller, so as to provide a more effective foil to her own type of
+beauty. As a result, the girl did not get the position."
+
+"I am so sorry," Ruth cried. "I hadn't the least idea who the girl was,
+and, of course, I wouldn't have done her any harm for the world."
+
+"I know that," Duvall replied, "but _she_ did not. She is mentally
+rather erratic, and she at once conceived the idea that you had singled
+her out for persecution; that, in fact, you were envious of her
+abilities and meant to prevent her from getting a chance.
+
+"The thing preyed on her mind, and I fancy, unbalanced it a little. She
+conceived a violent hatred for you, and with her sister began to plot
+revenge.
+
+"Her first move was to persuade her sister to move to the house on
+Fifty-seventh Street, close to your apartment. It took them some time to
+find the place--to secure a room situated as Miss Ford's was, but at
+last they managed it. Then they went to work.
+
+"The letters were all typewritten on a machine belonging to a public
+stenographer whom the girls knew. Jane Ford would stop in at this
+woman's place late in the afternoon and asking permission to use one of
+the machines would type the threatening letters. The paper she used was
+procured especially for her by her sister at a stationery store
+downtown.
+
+"The seal, a curious thing, had belonged to the girls' father, and she
+conceived the idea of signing the letters with it to add to the grimness
+of her threats. As a matter of fact, I do not think she ever had the
+least intention of carrying them out. It was to be solely a campaign of
+fear. She probably thought that she could so frighten you, Miss Morton,
+that your health would be broken down, and your work consequently
+interfered with to such an extent that you would lose your position. As
+I say, I think she is mentally somewhat unbalanced. I cannot account for
+some of her actions, otherwise.
+
+"The mailing of the first letter, the telephone messages, were
+comparatively simple. It was the delivery of those at the apartment that
+taxed her ingenuity. Yet the method was simple enough.
+
+"The girls' father, I am told, had been an animal trainer in a circus,
+and one of his bequests to his daughters was a pet monkey named Jack,
+that had been taught to do all sorts of tricks. The girls brought this
+monkey to New York with them after their father's death. When the
+question arose of delivering the letters in your room, Miss Morton, she
+decided to make use of the animal.
+
+"Creeping out of Marcia Ford's bedroom to the roof of the back building,
+and taking the monkey with her, she crossed the roof of the second house
+and reached the wall of the apartment. From here she was in a position
+to reach either of your bedroom windows in the following manner.
+
+"The monkey was led by means of a long, thin rope, attached to a sort of
+harness about his neck and shoulders. By going to the rear edge of the
+back building they could readily swing him over to the fire-escape,
+while by ascending to the top of the attic roof overlooking the court,
+they could in the same way enable him to reach the other window. The
+monkey had been trained to carry objects in his mouth. This accounts for
+the row of indentations on the letters found in your room. I had
+supposed they came from some mechanical device, fastened to the end of a
+long pole, but as a matter of fact, they were made by the monkey's
+teeth.
+
+"The animal being light in weight, and the pads of his feet being, of
+course, soft, no traces of his presence were left on the newly painted
+surface of the fire-escape. The handkerchief that I found there had been
+knotted about his neck as the collar to which the rope was fastened had
+seemed a bit weak. In some way it became detached, probably when the
+girls jerked on the cord to summon him back after he had completed his
+task.
+
+"In crossing the roofs of the two houses, the monkey's paws, as well as
+the rope, became covered with dust. This explains the spots which seemed
+to be finger marks upon the counterpane of your bed, and the long, dark
+straight line across the bed, which I thought might have been left by a
+rod or pole. As a matter of fact, it was made by a tightly stretched
+rope.
+
+"The sending of the monkey on the night when you were lying in bed must
+have been a mistake. You will remember that, contrary to your usual
+habit, you retired that night very early--a little after eight o'clock,
+if I remember correctly. The girls, coming over the room, saw that your
+room was dark, and naturally supposed that no one was in it. The
+grinning face of the monkey standing on the bed beside you, was the
+death's head apparition you thought you saw. At your cries the two women
+at once jerked on the cord, and the monkey hastened back to them through
+the partly raised window, leaving no trace of his presence except the
+black smudges of which I have spoken.
+
+"I have no doubt that Jane Ford followed me back to my hotel after one
+of my early visits to your apartment, and thus learned my name and
+address. Her supposition that I was engaged in an attempt to ferret out
+the writer of the letters was a shrewd guess.
+
+"The photograph was stolen from the studio by Marcia Ford who, being an
+employee, had ample opportunity to stroll about the place after office
+hours without exciting suspicion. She also arranged the subsequent
+delivery of the photograph and the substitution of the fake telegram.
+
+"Even when I made my night visit to Marcia Ford's room, and was attacked
+in the dark by the monkey, I did not suspect what it was. The room was
+pitch dark, and in the gloom I got the impression of a much larger
+object--a person, in fact, and this impression was heightened by the
+fact that the animal wore a silken jacket, and I felt the sleeve of it
+against my throat. I only regret that the noise, the cries he made,
+singularly human in quality, made it necessary for me to leave the place
+so precipitately.
+
+"The Ford girl and her sister had evidently just come in, and rushing to
+the room found evidences of some one having been there. The monkey had
+been shut in a closet, and by opening the door I had, of course,
+released it. Fearing discovery, they arranged to flee at once. Jane Ford
+went uptown. Her sister remained to pack up her belongings.
+
+"The visit to your hotel, the attack on you, was a crazy inspiration of
+the moment. Not knowing that my wife was following her, and having seen
+me on the sidewalk on Fifty-seventh Street as she drove away, Miss
+Norman naturally felt that if she could get you, Mrs. Morton, out of the
+way, she would be perfectly safe in going up to your rooms.
+
+"Even when alone with your daughter, she did not attempt to do her any
+serious bodily injury, but contented herself with hurling the ammonia in
+her face, counting, no doubt, upon the effect of the shock that would
+result. As I have said, the woman is mentally a little unbalanced. The
+things she does are not normal."
+
+"Nevertheless, they came very near being fatal," Mrs. Morton remarked
+grimly. "The doctor informed me that the fright, the shock of her
+experience, might readily have caused Ruth's death, or upset her
+reason."
+
+"I do not doubt it," replied Duvall. "The woman has all the cunning of
+an insane person. She showed it when, overcome by the sight of the
+death's-head seal I had flashed upon the screen at the theater, she so
+quickly recovered herself that she was able to deceive me completely
+regarding her condition, and subsequently to make her escape.
+
+"Both she and her sister realized that it had become necessary for them
+to leave the city. Marcia Ford, taking the monkey with her in a cab,
+hastened uptown to join her sister at the latter's apartment. She knew
+that I was not following her, for she had seen me drive off to join you,
+Mrs. Morton, at my hotel. They both thought themselves quite safe, and
+able to leave the city without interference.
+
+"The arrival of my wife at their apartment caused them to hasten their
+plans. They realized that we were close upon their heels. Jane Ford knew
+that the ring containing the death's-head seal was about the only
+evidence that existed against her, yet she hesitated to throw it away,
+as it had belonged to her father, and she prized it highly. With the
+cunning that she had exhibited throughout, she conceived the idea of
+hiding it in one of the tassels upon the handle of her umbrella.
+
+"These tassels, as you perhaps know, are usually made of round bits of
+wood, enclosed in a covering of knitted silk. The girl removed one of
+the wooden balls, and having embedded the ring in a ball of black
+sealing wax, put it in place of the wooden one. It was a most ingenious
+hiding place, and one extremely unlikely to be discovered."
+
+"How did you happen to discover it, Mr. Duvall?" Mrs. Morton asked.
+
+"In this way. When my wife called my attention to the spots of black wax
+on the tray of the candlestick, I saw at once that a far larger amount
+of the wax had been melted than would have been required in making an
+ordinary seal. The impressions on the warnings the woman sent were very
+small and flat, so as to readily be inserted in the envelopes containing
+the letters without being bulky, or becoming broken while passing
+through the mails. But here were spots of the wax that had dripped down
+as large as a silver quarter and larger. What, I wondered, had caused
+the woman to melt so large a quantity of wax?
+
+"I attempted to put myself in her place and to think what she would do
+to hide the seal ring. The idea of embedding it in a ball of the wax
+occurred to me. But, having done this, what would she do with the ball?
+It was not an easy thing to hide; in her purse, her satchel, it would
+have attracted attention at once. Then I noticed the round black
+ornaments hanging from her umbrella, with their silken cords and
+tassels. What better place to hide the ball of wax?
+
+"In order to test my theory, I twice attempted to take the umbrella from
+her on our way here, as though to relieve her of the trouble of carrying
+it. In both instances she drew back at once, and refused to allow the
+umbrella to leave her possession. This action on her part convinced me
+that my guess had been a correct one. The subsequent finding of the ring
+broke down her assurance. As you know, she has made a complete
+confession."
+
+"Poor woman," Ruth Morton remarked. "What are you going to do with her?"
+
+"That rests with you, Miss Morton. If you decide to prosecute you can
+readily do so. The penalty for sending threatening letters through the
+mails is not a light one. And her attack upon you, under the
+circumstances, is a very serious matter indeed."
+
+Ruth turned to her mother.
+
+"I think we ought to let them go," she said.
+
+"And have the same trouble over again," Mrs. Morton replied. "I could
+never feel safe with that woman at large."
+
+"I do not think she will trouble you again, Mrs. Morton," remarked
+Duvall. "She is thoroughly frightened. All her assurance has
+disappeared. She begs that she and her sister be allowed to return home
+at once. It seems that some relative in Rochester has offered them a
+home there, and they were going to join her when we intercepted them."
+
+"Then let them go," Ruth Morton exclaimed. "I certainly do not wish to
+cause them any harm, especially as you tell me the woman who originated
+the whole thing is mentally not quite right."
+
+"She is certainly unbalanced, so far as her grievance against you is
+concerned. But I feel sure that were you to explain matters to her, and
+let her understand that your action in losing her the position at the
+studio was quite impersonal on your part, she will realize the folly of
+what she has done, and come to her senses."
+
+"I will do it," said Ruth. "I don't want to injure her any more. Let
+them go home in peace."
+
+"Very well." Duvall rose to go. "Permit me to say, Mrs. Morton, that I
+admire your daughter's generosity very much. Good morning." He and Grace
+bade their hosts good-by and took their leave.
+
+"She's a lovely girl," Grace remarked, as they drove to their hotel. "I
+like her immensely."
+
+"Then you aren't jealous of me any more, because I so suddenly became a
+motion-picture 'fan'?"
+
+"Richard!" she laughed. "Don't be silly. I suppose I shall always be
+jealous of you when a girl, as beautiful as Ruth Morton, is concerned.
+After all, to be jealous is only a woman's way of paying tribute to
+another woman's charms."
+
+Duvall laughed.
+
+"It was Miss Ford's way, too," he said, "but as a means of showing one's
+appreciation it had its faults."
+
+
+THE END.
+
+
+
+
+THE NOVELS OF
+
+MARY ROBERTS RINEHART
+
+May be had wherever books are sold. Ask for Grosset & Dunlap's list.
+
+
+"K." Illustrated.
+
+K. LeMoyne, famous surgeon, drops out of the world that has known him,
+and goes to live in a little town where beautiful Sidney Page lives. She
+is in training to become a nurse. The joys and troubles of their young
+love are told with that keen and sympathetic appreciation which has made
+the author famous.
+
+
+THE MAN IN LOWER TEN.
+
+Illustrated by Howard Chandler Christy.
+
+An absorbing detective story woven around the mysterious death of the
+"Man in Lower Ten." The strongest elements of Mrs. Rinehart's success
+are found in this book.
+
+
+WHEN A MAN MARRIES.
+
+Illustrated by Harrison Fisher and Mayo Bunker.
+
+A young artist, whose wife had recently divorced him, finds that his
+aunt is soon to visit him. The aunt, who contributes to the family
+income and who has never seen the wife, knows nothing of the domestic
+upheaval. How the young man met the situation is humorously and most
+entertainingly told.
+
+
+THE CIRCULAR STAIRCASE. Illus. by Lester Ralph.
+
+The summer occupants of "Sunnyside" find the dead body of Arnold
+Armstrong, the son of the owner, on the circular staircase. Following
+the murder a bank failure is announced. Around these two events is woven
+a plot of absorbing interest.
+
+
+THE STREET OF SEVEN STARS.
+
+Illustrated (Photo Play Edition.)
+
+Harmony Wells, studying in Vienna to be a great violinist, suddenly
+realizes that her money is almost gone. She meets a young ambitious
+doctor who offers her chivalry and sympathy, and together with
+world-worn Dr. Anna and Jimmie, the waif, they share their love and
+slender means.
+
+
+
+
+B. M. BOWER'S NOVELS
+
+May be had wherever books are sold. Ask for Grosset and Dunlap's list.
+
+
+CHIP OF THE FLYING U. Wherein the love affairs of Chip and Della Whitman
+are charmingly and humorously told.
+
+
+THE HAPPY FAMILY. A lively and amusing story, dealing with the
+adventures of eighteen jovial, big hearted Montana cowboys.
+
+
+HER PRAIRIE KNIGHT. Describing a gay party of Easterners who exchange a
+cottage at Newport for a Montana ranch-house.
+
+
+THE RANGE DWELLERS. Spirited action, a range feud between two families,
+and a Romeo and Juliet courtship make this a bright, jolly story.
+
+
+THE LURE OF THE DIM TRAILS. A vivid portrayal of the experience of an
+Eastern author among the cowboys.
+
+
+THE LONESOME TRAIL. A little branch of sage brush and the recollection
+of a pair of large brown eyes upset "Weary" Davidson's plans.
+
+
+THE LONG SHADOW. A vigorous Western story, sparkling with the free
+outdoor life of a mountain ranch. It is a fine love story.
+
+
+GOOD INDIAN. A stirring romance of life on an Idaho ranch.
+
+
+FLYING U RANCH. Another delightful story about Chip and his pals.
+
+
+THE FLYING U'S LAST STAND. An amusing account of Chip and the other boys
+opposing a party of school teachers.
+
+
+THE UPHILL CLIMB. A story of a mountain ranch and of a man's hard fight
+on the uphill road to manliness.
+
+
+THE PHANTOM HERD. The title of a moving-picture staged in New Mexico by
+the "Flying U" boys.
+
+
+THE HERITAGE OF THE SIOUX. The "Flying U" boys stage a fake bank robbery
+for film purposes which precedes a real one for lust of gold.
+
+
+THE GRINGOS. A story of love and adventure on a ranch in California.
+
+
+STARR OF THE DESERT. A New Mexico ranch story of mystery and adventure.
+
+
+THE LOOKOUT MAN. A Northern California story full of action, excitement
+and love.
+
+
+
+
+Transcriber's Notes:
+
+
+Typographical errors in original have been corrected as follows:
+
+
+Chapter III
+
+"Would you take one, if it were offered to you," asked Grace quickly.
+changed to: "Would you take one, if it were offered to you?" asked Grace
+quickly.
+
+"No one, but an old negro cook, who has been with me for years.
+changed to: "No one but an old negro cook, who has been with me for
+years.
+
+I am going to take the case largely bceause it has interested me,
+changed to: I am going to take the case largely because it has
+interested me,
+
+
+Chapter IV
+
+Duvall examined this house next door with a great deal of interest
+changed to: Duvall examined this house next door with a great deal of
+interest.
+
+"Nothing, so far. I confess the thing is somewhat of a puzzle.
+changed to: "Nothing, so far. I confess the thing is somewhat of a
+puzzle."
+
+
+Chapter V
+
+...eyes of the two men were tent curiously upon her,
+changed to:  ...eyes of the two men were bent curiously upon her,
+
+Why, sir. Is anything wrong?"
+changed to:  Why, sir? Is anything wrong?"
+
+
+Chapter VI
+
+Dora will bring me some dinner," she said,
+changed to:  Nora will bring me some dinner," she said,
+
+She has become a sort of public character."
+changed to: She has become a sort of public character.
+
+
+Chapter VII
+
+Duvall turned to his companion with a juzzled frown.
+changed to:  Duvall turned to his companion with a puzzled frown.
+
+...his head, far below the sill of this window. nor could anyone...
+changed to: ...his head, far below the sill of this window, nor could
+anyone...
+
+...may have to be here some time, I've got a queer case...
+changed to: ...may have to be here some time. I've got a queer case...
+
+
+Chapter VIII
+
+"Nothing, replied Mrs. Morton.
+changed to:  "Nothing," replied Mrs. Morton.
+
+"This is where Mr. Moore receives his callers:
+changed to:  "This is where Mr. Moore receives his callers.
+
+...at the Grand to-night, It will be your last
+changed to:  ...at the Grand to-night, it will be your last.
+
+"Last night I knew it would be needed to-day."
+changed to:  "Last night. I knew it would be needed to-day."
+
+...when the moment arrived, I gave it to the actor who took it to Miss
+Morton:"
+changed to: ...when the moment arrived, I gave it to the actor who took
+it to Miss Morton."
+
+...Duvall asked Ruth, after they had had started away from the studio.
+changed to: ...Duvall asked Ruth, after they had started away from the
+studio.
+
+
+Chapter IX
+
+With a polite bow he passed no.
+changed to:  With a polite bow he passed on.
+
+
+Chapter X
+
+Duval, after having satisfied himself that...
+changed to:  Duvall, after having satisfied himself that...
+
+The lovely face of Ruth Morton once more greeted the eyes of the
+audience
+changed to: The lovely face of Ruth Morton once more greeted the eyes of
+the audience.
+
+...the water about with the end of a leadpencil until the tablet...
+changed to: ...the water about with the end of a lead pencil until the
+tablet...
+
+
+Chapter XI
+
+...sent him into the drag store in order that she...
+changed to:  ...sent him into the drug store in order that she...
+
+...provided the card is, as I conclude, torn exactly in half.
+changed to: ...provided the card is, as I conclude, torn exactly in
+half."
+
+...begins with 'Mar,' Duvall said. I will put them down on a sheet of
+paper."
+changed to: ...begins with 'Mar,'" Duvall said. "I will put them down on
+a sheet of paper."
+
+It may be that Miss Marcia Ford,...
+changed to:  "It may be that Miss Marcia Ford,...
+
+...extended a half sheet of none-paper toward the detective.
+changed to: ...extended a half sheet of note-paper toward the detective.
+
+...he said, "that it will, be necessary for you to remain...
+changed to: ...he said, "that it will be necessary for you to remain...
+
+Mr. Emmett, who is in charge there, can tell as about Miss Ford."
+changed to: Mr. Emmett, who is in charge there, can tell us about Miss
+Ford."
+
+
+Chapter XII
+
+The thing is utterly incomprehensible."
+changed to:  The thing is utterly incomprehensible.
+
+What's the matter with you.
+changed to:  What's the matter with you?
+
+...in case anyone questioned him about me."
+changed to: ...in case anyone questioned him about me.
+
+She gave him a name and address.
+changed to:  "She gave him a name and address.
+
+
+Chapter XV
+
+"Yes. I came to see you about a matter of importance.
+changed to: "Yes. I came to see you about a matter of importance."
+
+
+Chapter XVI
+
+...been following appeared, wearing a flowered kimona.
+changed to: ...been following appeared, wearing a flowered kimono.
+
+
+Chapter XVII
+
+"Very well Get me a cab.
+changed to:  "Very well. Get me a cab.
+
+He was overjoyed, when it was opened by a man...
+changed to:  He was overjoyed when it was opened by a man...
+
+He doubted his ability to break it in. nor did he wish...
+changed to: He doubted his ability to break it in, nor did he wish...
+
+
+Chapter XIX
+
+"'Is there anything more you want of us?" Miss Norman asked,
+changed to: "Is there anything more you want of us?" Miss Norman asked,
+
+
+Chapter XX
+
+"I am glad to find you almost yourself again.
+changed to:  "I am glad to find you almost yourself again."
+
+
+Chapter XXI
+
+It seems she haunted the studio for several weeks without...
+changed to: "It seems she haunted the studio for several weeks
+without...
+
+...and thus learned by name and address.
+changed to:  and thus learned my name and address.
+
+What better place to hide the ball of wax.
+changed to:  What better place to hide the ball of wax?
+
+Permit me to say, Mrs. Morton, that I...
+changed to:  "Permit me to say, Mrs. Morton, that I...
+
+
+B.M. Bower's Novels
+
+THE RANGE DWELLERS. Spirited action, a range feud be two families, and
+a...
+changed to: THE RANGE DWELLERS. Spirited action, a range feud between
+two families, and a...
+
+
+
+
+
+End of the Project Gutenberg EBook of The Film of Fear, by Arnold Fredericks
+
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