“My darling,” he said honestly and generously, “I don’t understand everything you’ve been talking about, but I understand that you’re my dear girl—my fine girl—always. And—and whatever you say—must be right!” “And you, Mr. Barrison?” she persisted, looking at him wistfully, as she left her hand in Norman’s. Jim rose to go, and, standing, smiled down upon her. “I think your notion is an inspiration!” he declared. “I would give something to see Miss Legaye when she gets that pendant!” After which he departed, wondering how he was going to convince Lowry that the trail to Sybil was, professionally speaking, “cold.” CHAPTER XXV NEW DEVELOPMENTS He telephoned the _Blaze_ office, and caught Teddy Lucas just as he was starting out on an assignment. “Oh, it’s you,” said the reporter. “Wanted to tell you something about your friend Rita which might be useful in your business. I strolled round last night to the furnished rooming house where she and her husband hung out, and they never went home at all; just beat it to the train, I suppose. Their room was just as they’d left it, and full of junk. There was a shelf full of old photographs, and one of ’em was of two young girls, sisters I should say; at least, they were both dark. One’s evidently Rita herself, as she may have looked ten years ago, and the other, unless I’m very much mistaken, is the lady that the sob sisters are interviewing this morning!” “Not Kitty Legaye?” “That’s the one. Oh, and I poked about the files for you this morning. The Blankley Daredevils were a riding and shooting show that did small time in the East until a year ago. Then it bust up, and the company scattered. Blankley seems to have been a crook, for the reason for the smash-up was that he was arrested and sent to jail for six months! Quite a nice, snappy little story—what?” “Are you going to write it?” “Not my line. I’ve turned it over to a chap on the news staff!” “I noticed that you didn’t make much out of last night.” “My editor cut out most of it; thought I was giving Coyne’s theater too much advertising. Well, that’s all I had to tell.” “Where is that photograph?” “I swiped it. Send it up?” “Please! And I’m no end obliged.” “That’s all right.” Barrison walked out of the booth more astonished than he had ever been in his life. In all the speculations he had made in his own mind concerning this twisted and unsatisfactory case, it had never occurred to him to connect those two women. Kitty Legaye and Marita Blankley! He recalled the two faces swiftly, and saw that there was a faint resemblance, though Rita’s was far the harder and more mature. He would not swear that she was the older, though; little ladies like Kitty rarely looked their age. Kitty and Rita! The more he thought of it, the more astounding it seemed. Of course, the first thing to do was to locate Wrenn. But how? He wondered if Willie Coster could help him.