There was one photograph of a very peculiar looking young woman who was not altogether unhandsome.
She was dressed in a fancy Mexican costume.
To the old detective she looked as if she might be of mixed stock, Mexican and Chinese, or Mexican and Japanese.
But as none of these things interested the old detective, he returned them to the trunk and closed it.
Scarce had he done so when there came a knock on the door, which had not been locked.
Of course, this could not be the doctor.
Thinking that it might lead to some further discovery, Old King Brady slipped into a closet and remained on the watch through the crack of the door.
Again came the knocking, a little more insistent, and then the door opened and a young woman very stylishly dressed walked into the room.
A glance was sufficient to identify her as the original of the photograph the old detective had just been looking at.
She stood peering about as if expecting Dr. Garshaski to jump out at her from the closet or under the bed.