"Come in," the latter cried.
The door was flung open, and Mr. Edwards, the director, who was making the picture upon which Ruth Morton was working, strode hastily into the room. "Mr. Baker!" he exclaimed, then paused upon seeing Duvall.
"What is it?" Baker replied.
"Will you look here a minute, please?"
Baker went up to him, his face showing the greatest uneasiness.
"What's the matter?" he asked. "Anything wrong?"
"Yes. Miss Morton was going through the scene in the first part, where she gets the telegram, you know, and when she opened the message, and read it, she fainted."
"Fainted? What was in the telegram to make her faint?"
"Well, it ought to have read, 'Will call for you to-night, with marriage license—Jimmy.' That was the prop message we had prepared. But somebody must have substituted another one for it. This is what she read." He handed Baker a yellow slip of paper. "I can't make anything out of it."
Baker snatched the telegram from his hand with a growl of rage, and read it hastily. Then he passed it over to Duvall.