"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.