“Not a soul of us saw his face,” mourned McCarty, but Ruth was quick to contradict him.
“I did,” she said. “And what’s more, I know him—and so do you all!”
They made her sit down and explain.
“It was Charlie Reid,” she said excitedly. “And as you all know, he is Sol Bloomberg’s right-hand man. It was Charlie who, as agent for Bloomberg, first tempted Viola Callahan to break her contract with me.”
“The rascal!” cried Brun, his big hand doubled into a fist. “And to think he got away with a whole neck and his information!”
“But why should Charlie Reid want to spy on us?” asked Mr. Hammond. “Certainly our conversation has been innocent enough and has nothing whatever to do with Reid, or with Bloomberg either, for that matter.”
“It’s queer, though,” mused Ruth, as though speaking aloud. “Charlie Reid spying here, trying to find out what he can of my future plans, right on top of that threatening letter from Sol Bloomberg!”
Naturally the men were more at sea than ever over this reference, since none but Ruth herself and Helen Cameron knew anything of the threatening, venomous letter Bloomberg had sent. Ruth had not even told Tom for fear of needlessly worrying him.
Now, however, it was necessary to make a clean breast of the facts. In view of what had just happened, the letter from the disgraced producer took on an added importance.
“It looks to me,” Ruth finished, “as though the planting of Charlie Reid here to spy upon us and overhear our plans is the first step in Bloomberg’s scheme of revenge.”