"Oh, that's the theory of the reporters. They'd lose their jobs if they ever told the real truth in a criminal case," remarked Jarvis coolly.

"Don't believe what the papers say--unless it's nice and about yourself!"

"Well, Mr. Ghost Breaker, what is your own opinion? You are an expert in these matters," insisted the Duke. "This affair interests me."

Jarvis was more than nonchalant.

"He might have escaped in a thousand ways. But such work is not in my line: that's 'gum-shoe' stuff--for plain common or garden detectives."

Nita entered the cabin, and Maria Theresa arose uncertainly.

"I'll call you when I need you, Nita." There was some hidden portent in her tone which Jarvis failed to divine. He decided that discretion was the better part of valor. He rose, and walked toward the door to the promenade deck.

"We are keeping you from getting settled, I fear," he declared. "So, if you'll excuse me at this time, I'll hope to see you at luncheon.... And as for you, Duke, it's a great pleasure to meet your Excellency."

Carlos bowed with military grace.

"Thank you, Mr. Warren. I find you most interesting. I shall be glad to hear more of your remarkable profession. Good-morning, sir."

The Kentuckian turned away.

As Warren reached the deck door there was a knock upon the portal to the cabin pa.s.sage.

Nita followed him, and then turned to open the second entrance. Two pompous, red-cheeked, red-necked individuals stepped forward, without so much as a "by-your-leave!"

The first one spoke, reading from a smudgy memorandum book.

"You are Miss M. T. Ar-r-ragan?"

The Princess acquiesced.

"You was at the Hotel Manhattan last night?"

"Yes."

"The lock on your bedroom door was broken?"

"Yes?"

The speaker jerked back the left lapel of his coat, displaying a silver badge with great satisfaction.

"I am from headquarters, madame, and I have orders to clear up one or two little matters connected with that affair at the hotel last night."

The speaker glared at them suspiciously.

The chivalry of Spain a.s.serted itself. The Duke stepped forward with spirit, gripping the cane as though it were a cavalry saber.

"Orders--orders--what orders? To break into this lady's private cabin?

What headquarters?"

"It seems to me, bo, that you're in a lady's private cabin yourself.

I'm from police headquarters, bo!"

"Do you know whom you are addressing, fellow?"

"Say, nix on this _fellow_ stuff. That'll be about all from you."

Maria Theresa interceded with her winsome grace and irresistible smile.

"Yes, Carlos, let me attend to the matter. Won't you come into the cabin, gentlemen, and be seated?"

The two detectives beamed, their bosoms heaved with pride at this unexpected recognition of their importance. They entered, waving away the steward and closing the cabin door behind them.

"We're just been discussing that mystery, Inspector!" observed Jarvis, coming nearer and taking his seat upon the trunk once more. This irritated the Duke, who added: "You are, I take it, one of the 'gum shoes'?"

Jarvis turned toward Maria Theresa, disregarding all properties due to the presence of the aristocracy, and yielded to that nervous twitching of the left eye which expresses such manifold meaning with such minimum of sound!

The detective whirled about, from his scrutiny of the cabin, walking toward the Duke. He fairly howled in the surprised n.o.bleman's face:

"Gum shoe! Say, are you trying to kid me?"

The Duke replied with asperity:

"Well, sir. You are speaking rather loudly. I presume that I have offended you?"

"You presume! I should say you do. That's a hot one. Who are you, anyway?"

"I am Carlos, Hernando y Calderos, Duke of Alva. I have other t.i.tles, but they would hardly interest you."

The detective glared at him malevolently, mimicking the crisp enunciation of the n.o.bleman.

"But you interest me, sweetie. Dook of Alver--and then some, eh? Ain't that just too cutey-cutey for any use? Say, I'm used to these dooks and counts--I've been around Peac.o.c.k Alley at the Waldorf too long not to know 'em by their checkered pants and them canes! Say, Dook! If you was the Archbishop of Canterbury I'd run yer in and take yer ash.o.r.e, if yer give me any more of yer lip."

Jarvis, b.u.mping his heels against the trunk, smiled with diabolical enjoyment in the face of his Excellency!

IX

CHECKMATE THE FIRST

The detective glared at the n.o.bleman, with fingers obviously itching for action. He sucked his teeth contemptuously, and then turned his back squarely upon the n.o.ble countenance. Over his face spread the beatific smile which strong, rough men deem overpowering with a member of the weaker s.e.x.

"As you was saying, lady, before we was so impolitely interrupted, you was in the hotel when this gunplay went on. Did you hear it?"

"Yes, sir, I heard two shots."

"Did you hear anything else?"