“What magazine?” Dr. Stone asked.
“It’s called Wonder World. How did it get here?”
“Sweetman has a key,” the real estate man said. “Wingate did have a key. Either one of them could have brought it in.”
“How long did Wingate have his key?” the doctor asked suddenly.
“A month, probably. Painted in here for a while. Gave me back the key at last and said it would cost too much to change the upstairs to get a studio with a northern light.”
“Then these things mean nothing,” the captain grumbled in disappointment. He crumpled the cover and threw it into a blackened fireplace.
“That scrap of paper?” Dr. Stone asked.
“Half a dozen incomplete lines. Something torn out at random.”
“Might I have it?”
Captain Tucker grunted in impatience. “I tell you it’s merely a scrap——Oh, take it.”