"They're always vague, and usually
wrong. This one isn't even certain about who the girl is. But they think
it's Stella Wrightington," he concluded in the manner of one who has
imparted portentous tidings.
"Who's she?" said Banneker.
"Good Lord! Don't you ever read the news?" cried the disgusted
journalist. "Why, she's had her picture published more times than a
movie queen. She's the youngest daughter of Cyrus Wrightington, the
multi-millionaire philanthropist. Now did you see anything of that kind
on the train?"
"What does she look like?" asked the cautious Banneker.
"She looks like a million dollars!" declared the other with enthusiasm.
"She's a killer! She's tall and blonde and a great athlete: baby-blue
eyes and general rosebud effect."
"Nothing of that sort on the train, so far as I saw," said the agent.
"Did you see any couple that looked lovey-dovey?"
"No."
"Then, there's another tip that connects her up with Carter Holmesley.
Know about him?"
"I've seen his name."
"He's been on a hell of a high-class drunk, all up and down the coast,
for the last week or so. Spilled some funny talk at a dinner, that got
into print. But he put up such a heavy bluff of libel, afterward, that
the papers shied off.
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