Linda made no reply, but turned her face aside in haughty disdain, as Sprague rang a bell and summoned a young woman from another office, to whom he made a slight explanation.
“And now,” he continued after the girl had left with the cards, “what do you propose to do about it—if your identity should be established?”
“Simply have proof that you will remove my name from the pictures, and print a statement saying that you had been misled.”
Mr. Sprague smiled sarcastically.
“You want the part yourself, I suppose?”
“I do not,” replied Linda, firmly. “I have neither time nor inclination to go into the moving pictures. Your actress can play the part—under her own name, whatever it is.”
“Mr. Von Goss would never consent to that. The girl isn’t much of an actress. He just engaged her for the value of the publicity. And, if she should prove to be an impostor, I’m sure he wouldn’t want her.”
“Well, that’s not my affair,” concluded Linda, rising. “Please get my licenses back for me now, Mr. Sprague, and when you have proof, Mr. Von Goss can communicate with me at the Ambassador Hotel in Los Angeles.”
“Wait a minute—wait a minute,” cautioned Sprague, smugly. “We can’t verify that license in five minutes. The other girl also had licenses in the name of Miss Linda Carlton, and the two will have to be compared, in order to find out which is a counterfeit!”
“Why, that’s ridiculous!” exclaimed Dot. “People can’t counterfeit U. S. Government licenses!”