Kennedy pointed. "Right there on the floor."
"The devil!" Manton flushed red. "This is no place to smoke. By—by all the wives of Goodwin and all the stars of Griffith I'm going to start firing a few people!" he sputtered. "Here, sonny!" He jumped at the boy, frightening him. "Close all these doors and turn the combinations. Tell Wagnalls if he opens them before he sees me I'll commit battery on his nose."
Kennedy continued to hold the stub, and as Manton preceded us up the stairs he hung back, comparing it with the few cigarettes left in the case. Unquestionably they were of the same brand.
On the studio floor Mackay was waiting for us. Under his arm was a reel of film in a can. He clutched it almost fondly.
"All ready!" he remarked, to Kennedy.
Kennedy's face was unrevealing as he faced Manton. "This bit of film is valuable evidence also. I think perhaps it would be safer in that locker."
"Anything at all we can do to help," stated Manton, promptly. "Shall I show you the way again?"
I produced the key, handing it to Kennedy as the four of us arrived in the corridor by the property room. Kennedy slipped the bit of metal into the lock; then simulated surprise very well indeed.
"The lock is broken!" he exclaimed. "Some one has been here."
Apparently the traveling bag had been undisturbed as we took it out.
Nevertheless, the paper containing the towel was gone.