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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 after all, I begin to feel very doubtful as to the results. This woman, whoever she is, that is persecuting Miss Morton seems to be mighty clever. She may not be affected in the way you think, by what she sees on the screen."
"I realize that. It is only a chance. But don't you think that, under the circumstances, it is a chance worth taking?"
"Most certainly; otherwise I should not have consented to it. But, as I say, I doubt very much its success."
"Well—we can only try. You will remember what I said about the lights, and the call for a doctor, if one appears to be needed."
"Yes. I have all that in mind. Miss Morton is not coming to-night, I presume."
"No. I advised against it."
"I'm glad of that."
Duvall sat in silence for a moment.
"By the way," he said presently. "There is one important matter that I have overlooked. Do you give your employees passes for these opening performances?"
"No—not regularly, that is. But any member of our organization who wishes to see the performance would of course be admitted. We reserve a section of the house for that purpose. A number of our people usually come over."
"Good! That's just what I had hoped for. Where is this section?"
"The last five rows on the left-hand side of the house. But why?"
"Don't you see? All the evidence points to the fact that the person who is responsible for these threats either works in your studio, or is in some way able to gain access to it at any time. Witness the stolen photograph—the substituted telegram of this morning. In the latter it was definitely stated that the woman in the case would be in the audience to-night. I am hoping sincerely that she will not have the cleverness to enter as one of the public, but will come in as one of your people, and sit in the section of the house reserved exclusively for your employees. In that event, I think we shall discover who she is beyond a doubt."
"I certainly hope so," sighed Mr. Baker. "This thing has got us all up in the air. Our President had a long conference with me this afternoon about Miss Morton. He seems to think she is going to pieces, and recommended trying to get Joan Clayton away from the Multigraph people to take her place. He says that she is losing her good looks. I told him nothing, of course, but it worried me a lot. I am very fond of Ruth Morton, and I don't want to see her lose her place."
"She won't lose it," asserted Duvall. "When we get through, her position with your company will be stronger than it has ever been before. Shall we go out in the lobby and take a look at the crowd as it comes in?"
Mr. Baker assented, and the two men stationed themselves near the box office.
Without appearing to do so, Duvall inspected the various members of the incoming crowd. His scrutiny was careful, comprehensive, but the only person he recognized was Grace.
That she also recognized him he knew. She had seen the disguise he wore, many times, and was familiar with it. She did not betray herself, however, by so much as a glance, but proceeded at once to her seat.
When the moment arrived for the beginning of the performance, the house was filled. Duvall, with Baker at his side, stationed himself back of the left-hand section of seats, so that the rows reserved
