The latter came forward.

"I received this message myself, sir," he said. "I remember it, because
of its peculiar wording. What is it you wish to know?"

"I would like a description of the person who sent it," Duvall told him.

The man thought for a moment.

"I'm not able to tell you much," he said. "It was a woman--I didn't
notice particularly whether she was young or old. In fact, she didn't
give me a chance, just laid the message and the money down and went
right out. She evidently knew the rate, for the amount she left was
correct. I took the message and read it, without noticing her
particularly, and then, when I had finished reading it and looked up,
she had gone."

"Then you can't tell me anything about her?" Duvall asked, greatly
disappointed.

"Not a thing. I remember it was a woman, and my general impression is
that she was rather young and small, but I can't be at all sure. You
see, sir, a great many persons come in, during the day, and we haven't
time to take note of them particularly. As I say, I read the telegram
first, and counted the words. By that time she had left the office."

Duvall thanked the man for his information and made his way to the
street. Something at least had been gained. The person who was hounding
Ruth Morton was a woman.

By this he was not at all surprised. He had felt for some time that
Ruth's enemy was, in all probability, some jealous and envious movie
actress who, herself unsuccessful, resented the youth and beauty of her
successful rival. He called a taxi and directed the driver to take him
out to the studio of the company with which Ruth was connected. Here, in
all probability, was to be found the woman he sought.

The journey consumed considerably over an hour, and it was lunch time
when he finally drew up before the entrance to the series of studio
buildings. Before entering he went to a nearby restaurant to get a bite
to eat.

It was a small and rather cheap place, but at this hour was crowded with
the employees of the big company. Duvall at first could not find a seat,
but presently discovered one at a table not far from the door, at which
were seated some young men, apparently stenographers or clerks.

While waiting for his order of sandwiches and milk, the detective
occupied himself with a newspaper. He was not reading it, however,
although he pretended to be deeply engrossed in its contents. He was in
reality listening to the gossip of the studio, which ros