They were to see, in fact, a picturization of certain unfinished details connected with her own career on earth, over which he, for one, felt curiosity. He had ordered the life-films to date of John Cabot brought from the supply house and cut to give a comprehensive exposé of a character that would refuse to heed the death cries of a girl whom, by the honor code of Earth, he was bound to protect. Satan himself had hit on an apt title, but had not previewed the picture and had left the sub-titling to his first fiend-scenarist. He hoped for an entertaining and regardless presentation. At the Devil’s Own Playhouse it was evident that the feature had been extensively billed. The capacity of the theater was taxed to standing-room when the King led his interesting guest into the royal box. Down over the billows of faces that waved back at their entrance, Dolores looked with pitying eyes. On a few was apathy; on more, fevered eagerness; on most, apprehension. The Sea of the Fear of Despair they were--a Dead Sea, indeed. She, too, soon was carried out toward its white-caps of hoping thoughts, caught in its undertow. This she realized from the emotion within herself which began with the curtain’s rise--the deeps of heartbreak disturbed by the high-winds of hope. The camera was said not to lie. If His Highness’ boasted topical review was bona-fide, some excuse might evolve for him who had refused to heed her call. The series of incidents unfolded upon the super-quick silver screen may most readily be grasped, perhaps, by a perusal of the working synopsis to which the master-director of Hell Films cut the production. THE TURN TURTLE HIS SATANIC MAJESTY Presents John Cabot In Facts from His Natural History Shown in Three Turns. (_On Screen_) The turn turtle is an insignificant reptile, great only in its cowardice. It never looks danger in the face, but at first alarm pulls in its head and scuddles away. Watch this one. Turtle enters slowly. Protrudes head. Looks around. Face changes to that of John Cabot. A pair of hands--recognizably Dolores Trent’s--appear. Stretch toward turtle. Face shows fright. Head withdraws into shell. Turtle crawls off. (_On Screen_) THE FIRST TURN John Cabot enters his Broad Street office. Seats himself at desk. Goes through pile of letters in weary manner. Stops to study one. (_Show, in Dolores’ Handwriting--Envelope of Dolores’ note, with “Personal” underscored and the return address of Retreat for Wayward Girls in corner._) John interrupted by arrival of Rufus Holt who looks worried, but tries to cheer up when John asks about Dolores. Attorney assures John: (_Insert_) “_Miss Trent is comfortably settled at a shore resort, as well and happy as can be expected until matters are settled._”