"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.