"So," said Cartwright.
"I want a few to pull myself."
Nevin held up his hand. "Just a minute, Mr. West. We would like to know just how—"
Cartwright laughed at him. "Forget it, Louis. He knew about your painting. He had Annabelle. Where do you suppose he found out?"
"But—but—" said Nevin.
"Maybe he didn't use a painting," Cartwright declared. "Maybe he used other methods. After all, there are others, you know. Thousands of years ago men knew of the place we found. Mu, probably. Atlantis. Some other forgotten civilization. Just the fact that West had Annabelle is enough for me. He must have been there."
West smiled, relieved. "I used other methods," he told them.
CHAPTER THREE
The Painting