"Give me Mr. Duvall's address," she said, "and I will see him at once."
"That," Mr. Stapleton smiled, "is, of course, the great difficulty. Duvall, who is married, lives with his wife on their farm near Washington. They both have plenty of money, and he has practically retired from professional work."
"Then of what use is it to suggest his name?" asked Mrs. Morton, quickly.
"He had already retired," Stapleton rejoined, "at the time of my boy's kidnapping, but I prevailed on him to take up the case. His retirement merely means that he is not in the active practice of his profession. But exceptional cases, cases which by reason of their novelty interest him, he may be persuaded to undertake. I fancy this matter of your daughter's would prove attractive to him. It is unusual--bizarre. I strongly advise you to see him."
"Yes. I will give you a letter which will insure you an interview, and, I hope, enlist his services in your behalf." He pressed a button on his desk, summoning a stenographer. "I sincerely hope that you will be successful."
Mrs. Morton sat in silence while the letter of introduction to Richard Duvall was being written. Then she rose to go.
"I will leave for Washington this afternoon," she announced. "I feel that there is no time to waste."
"You are quite right. And be sure to tell Mr. Duvall that you are a close personal friend of mine, and that anything he can do for you I shall appreciate to the utmost."
Mrs. Morton went back to the apartment, and made her preparations to start. She determined to take a train leaving at half past three, and as Ruth would not return from the studio until later, she called her up on the telephone, and told her of her sudden determination.
"It is a matter of business, dear," she explained. "I will be back to-morrow. Good-by." The girl's cheerful voice reassured her. At least nothing had happened up to now, to give cause for alarm.
It was only when Mrs. Morton was about to leave for the train that her nerves were once more subjected to a severe shock.
The telephone bell rang, and she went to answer it, thinking that Ruth might for some reason have called her up.
"Beauty is only skin deep," it said. "A breath may destroy it." After that, silence.