"I will never forget the first time I saw that motion picture," said Van Dorn. "I was in New York City in the Hammerstein's Vaudeville at Forty-second and Broadway. It was the kind of theater where they ran a picture between the acts. When the picture started, we all got up as usual to walk out for a smoke or a drink. But then a few turned back to look at it, and then slowly everyone took his seat again as the picture went on. Mesmerizing ... I'd seen the play back in the nineties. But the picture was better."

"As I recall," Bell said, "Broncho Billy played several different parts."

"I heard that he's traveling the West on his own train now, making pictures."

"Yes," said Bell. "Broncho Billy has started up his own picture studio."

"Don't suppose that leaves him much time to wreck railroads," Van Dorn said drily. "Which leaves us nowhere."

"Not quite nowhere," said Bell.

Van Dorn looked incredulous. "Our lumberjack recalls a famous actor whose image in a moving picture stuck in what's left of his head."

"Look at this. I tested him to see how accurate he is." He showed Van Dorn the sketch of himself.

"Son of a gun. That's pretty good. He drew this?"

"While I was sitting there. He can really draw faces as they are."

"Not entirely. He's got your ears all wrong. And he gave you a cleft in your chin just like Broncho Billy's. Yours is a scar, not a cleft."

"He's not perfect, but he's pretty close. Besides, Marion says it looks like a cleft."

"Marion is prejudiced, you lucky devil. The point is, our lumberjack could have seen any one of Broncho Billy's pictures. Or he might have seen him on the stage somewhere."

"But, either way, we know what the Wrecker looks like."

"Are you suggesting that he actually looks like Broncho Billy's twin?"

"More like a cousin." Detail by detail, Bell pointed out the features of the lumberjack's sketch. "Not his twin. But if the Wrecker's face jogged the lumberjack's memory of Broncho Billy, then we are looking for a man who has a similar broad high brow, a cleft chin, a penetrating gaze, an intelligent face with strong features, and big ears. Not Broncho Billy's twin, exactly. But I would say that the Wrecker looks more in general like a matinee idol."

Van Dorn puffed angrily on his cigar. "Am I to instruct my detectives not to arrest ugly mugs?"

Isaac Bell pushed back, demanding his boss see the possibilities. The more he thought about it, the more he felt they were on to something. "How old do you suppose this fellow is?"

Van Dorn scowled at the drawing. "Anywhere from his late twenties to early forties."