possession of someone in the organization, without their knowing
who the thief was. Of course they don't know who took them and the
original plates or films are destroyed, but they've concocted some
means of putting a date on them early in the spring."

"What are they that they should take such pains with them?"
persisted Kennedy, looking fixedly at Carton.

Carton met his look without flinching. "They are supposed to be
photographs of myself," he repeated. "One purports to represent me
in a group composed of Mrs. Ogleby, Murtha, another woman whom I
do not even know, and myself. I am standing between Murtha and
Mrs. Ogleby and we look very familiar. Another is a picture of the
same four riding in a car, owned by Murtha. Oh, there are several
of them, of that sort."

He paused as a dozen unspoken questions framed themselves in my
mind. "I don't hesitate to admit," he added, "that a few months
ago I knew Mrs. Ogleby--socially. But there was nothing to it. I
never knew Murtha well, and the other woman I never saw. At
various times I have been present at affairs where she was, but I
know that no pictures were ever taken, and even if there had been,
I would not care, provided they told the truth about them. What I
do care about is the sworn allegation that, I understand, is to
accompany these--these fakes."

His voice broke. "It's a lie from start to finish, but just think
of it, Kennedy," he went on. "Here is the story, and here, too,
are the pictures--at least they will be, in print, to-morrow. Now,
you know nothing could hurt the reform ticket worse than to have a