and's shoulder, read the completed name and
address.

"Miss Marcia Ford," she exclaimed. "162 West 57th Street. Why, Richard,
there is the name and address of the woman you want."

"It may be her address," her husband remarked, gloomily, "but it
certainly isn't her name."

"But--Why not?"

"Because I saw Marcia Ford this morning, and _she isn't the woman_!"

Grace looked at him in astonishment. "Are you sure?" she cried.

"Perfectly. Marcia Ford is not the one we are after."

"Then how do you explain the woman having a card with that name on it?"

"I don't explain it--unless," he paused for a moment in thought. "Unless
this Ford woman, and the other one, are in league with each other, which
might account for the latter having her card in her purse."

"And the address! Is that where Marcia Ford lives?"

"I don't know. It may be where they both live, for all I can tell. I
only hope it is." He rose and took up his hat.

"Where are you going?" Grace asked.

"To 162 West 57th Street." Suddenly he took his wallet from his pocket,
snatched a second card from it, and after looking at it for a moment,
gave an exclamation of delighted surprise.

"What is it?" Grace asked quickly.

He thrust the card into her hand. Grace glanced at it, without quite
understanding what it meant.

"I don't see what you mean," she exclaimed. "The thing is clear enough.
The card I have just given you belongs to Miss Ruth Morton."

"I see that, but----"

"Then surely you must see that Miss Morton's apartment also is on
Fifty-seventh Street, and just two doors from the address of Miss Marcia
Ford!"

CHAPTER XIII

Duvall, upon discovering that the address of Miss Marcia Ford was on
West 57th Street, but two doors from the building in which the Morton
apartment was located, began to feel that he was on the right track. He
had known, ever since his first day upon the case, that the mysterious
messages found in Ruth Morton's bedroom had been placed there by some
ingenious but perfectly natural means. The apparition that had so
startled the girl upon her last night at the flat was capable, of
course, of some reasonable explanation. When he left Mr. Baker in the
morning his plan had been to go to Mrs. Morton's apartment and once more
investigate all possible means of entrance, hoping that, by finding out
how the messages were delivered, he might also be able to find out by
whom. It was for this reason that he had asked Mrs. Mor