He had seen the Jack o' Judgment once. A figure in gossamer silk who had stood beside the bed in which the Scandinavian lay and had talked wisdom whilst Olaf quaked in a muck sweat of fear.
The colonel did not know this. He was under the impression that the appearance of the previous night had constituted the first of this mysterious menace.
So he nodded again.
"Send Miss Marsh to me," he said.
Hanson would have got on his nerves if he had nerves. The man, at any rate, was becoming an intolerable nuisance. The colonel marked him down as one of the problems calling for early solution.
The secretary had not been gone more than a few seconds before the door opened again and the girl came in. She was tall, pretty in a doll-like way, with an aura of golden hair about her small head. She might have been more than pretty but for her eyes, which were too light a shade of blue to be beautiful. She was expensively gowned and walked with the easy swing of one whose position was assured.
"Good morning, Lollie," said the colonel. "Did you see him again?"
She nodded.
"I got a pretty good view of him," she said.
"Did he see you?"