Mrs. Morton nodded, then bent eagerly forward.
"Yes, Mr. Duvall. He told me that. But he also said that, when you heard the circumstances, you might be persuaded to assist me. I am in very deep trouble, and I fear that there is not a moment to be lost."
"What is the nature of your difficulty, madam?" Duvall asked.
"It—it concerns my daughter. I am the mother of Ruth Morton." She made this announcement as though she fully expected Duvall to realize its significance at once, but the latter's face remained quite blank.
"Yes?" he replied, vaguely. "And who is Ruth Morton?"
Mrs. Morton looked at him in pained surprise. The thought that anyone could possibly be ignorant of her daughter's fame and success seemed unbelievable to her. Was not Ruth's name a household word among moving picture "fans" from coast to coast? "Why—Ruth Morton—the motion picture star," she replied. "Surely you must have heard of her."
Duvall smiled, but shook his head.
"I never go to motion pictures," he said. "But that is of no importance. What has happened to your daughter?"
"Nothing. At least I hope not—yet. It is what may happen to her that frightens me so." She took the two threatening letters from her handbag and gave them to the detective. "These came yesterday," she said, simply.
Duvall took the letters, and proceeded to read them with the utmost care. When he looked up, his eyes were sparkling with interest.