I, Spy - 6 Espionage & Detective Books in One Edition. Frederic Arnold Kummer

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 4

       Table of Contents

      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