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BEHIND THE PICTURE
165

but caution, was the most fearful of all. Bit by bit the chain begun by that medium was being forged. The ghost ship was but another link in the chain! The long journey approached ominously, perilously, near.

The older man snapped on the ceiling lights and looked at the betraying evidence in the crack of the door. In spite of his paternal trust, he could add the two of the girl's call and her telephone message, the two of the Registrar's letter and that bit of wine-coloured cloth. They totalled a perfect incriminating four.

"Give me that key!"

There was nothing to do but deliver it. It turned, and Mr. Huntington confronted Carlotta. Now that he enjoyed a clearer view of the visitor, it didn't take any very acute observation to realize that she was no Salthaven product. She was so plainly an errant, brightly-coloured bulb, straying far from its proper setting on the "Great White Way," and with all the allurement thereof. But this stoutish little beauty, with her jet earrings, carmine flushes, snapping eyes, and pose and walk that were always on the point of swaying into ragtime, held no attraction for a perfectly respectable Salthaven father.

"Well, young man," he snorted in disgust, "so this is the indorsement of the Registrar's letter."

He went to the head of the stairs and called the cook, who came, breathless with excitement at the urgency of the summons.

"Show this young woman to the door, the kitchen door, I mean."