“Why, it’s a portrait of Miss Cameron, in costume!  And painted by Mr. Hunt!” In amazement she turned first upon Larry and upon Hunt.  “When did you ever paint her portrait, when you did not meet Miss Cameron till you met her here?  And, Mr. Brainard, how do you come to possess Miss Cameron’s portrait?”

It was Gavegan who spoke up promptly, and not either of the two suddenly discomfited men.  And Gavegan instantly sensed in the situation a chance to get even for the humiliation his self-esteem had just suffered.

“Miss Cameron nothing!  Her real name is Maggie Carlisle, and she used to live at a dump of a pawnshop down on the East Side run by Brainard’s grandmother.  Brainard knew her there, and so did Mr. Hunt.”

“But—­but—­” gasped Miss Sherwood—­“she’s been coming out here as Maggie Cameron!”

“I tell you your Maggie Cameron is Maggie Carlisle!” said Gavegan gloatingly.  “I’ve known her for years.  Her father is Old Jimmie Carlisle, a notorious crook.  And she’s mixed up right now with her father and some others in a crooked game.  And Brainard here used to be sweet on her, and probably still is, and if he’s been letting her come here, without telling you who she is—­well, I guess you know the answer.  Didn’t I tell you, Miss, that give me a chance and I’d turn up something against this guy Brainard!”

Miss Sherwood’s face was white, but set with grim accusation that was only waiting to pronounce swift judgment.  “Mr. Hunt, is it true that Miss Cameron is this Maggie Carlisle the officer mentions, and that you knew it all the while?”

“Yes—­” began the painter.

“Don’t blame him, Miss Sherwood,” Larry interrupted.  “He didn’t tell you because I begged him not to as a favor to me.  Blame me for everything.”

Her judgment upon Hunt was pronounced with cold finality, her eyes straight into Hunt’s:  “Whatever may have been Mr. Hunt’s motives, I unalterably hold him to blame.”

She turned upon Larry.  The face which he had only seen in gracious moods was as inflexibly stern as a prosecuting attorney’s.

“We’re going to go right to the bottom of this, Mr. Brainard.  You too have known all along that this Miss Cameron was really the Maggie Carlisle this officer speaks of?”

“Yes.”

“And you have known all along that she was the daughter of this notorious criminal, Old Jimmie Carlisle?”

The impulse surged up in Larry to tell the newly learned truth about Maggie.  But he remembered Maggie’s injunction that the truth must never be known.  He checked his revelation just in time.

“Yes.”

“And is it true that Maggie Carlisle is herself what is known as a crook?—­or has had crooked inclinations or plans?”

“It’s like this, Miss Sherwood—­”

“A direct answer, please!”

“Yes.”

“And is it true, as this officer has suggested, that you were in love with her yourself?”