"Suppose," said Harren, growing suddenly red, "that I should tell you I have succeeded in photographing this phantom."
The Tracer sat silent. He was astounded, but, he did not betray it.
"You have that photograph, Captain Harren?"
"Yes."
"Where is it?"
"In my rooms."
"You wish me to see it?"
Harren hesitated. "I—there is—seems to be—something almost sacred to me in that photograph. . . . You understand me, do you not? Yet, if it will help you in finding her—"
"Oh," said the Tracer in guileless astonishment, "you desire to find this young lady. Why?"
Harren stared. "Why? Why do I want to find her? Man, I—I can't live without her!"