The lady did not answer for a moment, but stared out of a window across Central Park without seeing anything, apparently. “The fact is, Mr. Carter, Don Solado does suspect one person--a man with whom he had a few angry words outside the ballroom.” Nick Carter looked up quickly. He was going to hear something interesting now, he thought. “What was his name? Does Don Solado know?” “That is a question I cannot answer. Don Solado did not say so. He only told me the man was dressed as a Mexican. I happen to know that one of my guests, a very important man in his own country, intended to come to the ball in a Mexican costume.” “And you will not let me know who he was?” She shook her head with a little, apologetic smile. “I am afraid I cannot, Mr. Carter. It would not be proper to reveal a secret that is not my own.” “A secret?” “Well, it may be a secret. I do not know much about foreign politics, especially those of a place like Joyalita, which seems to be different from most other countries, large or small. That is why I am careful not to say more than I can help.” “Then that is all?” asked Nick Carter, rising. “If I hear anything about this jeweled watch, I will report to you. I think you told me there is an ‘M’ in diamonds as part of its ornamentation?” “Yes. I know this is a very small case, Mr. Carter. But my husband persuaded me to call you up. He thought the fact of its being the property of a very important personage, and because there is a value attached to the article entirely distinct from what it would bring if offered for sale, could weigh with you.” “It does,” replied the detective. “I should like to have known the name of that man they think might have stolen the watch, however.” “Perhaps you will find out yourself,” smiled Mrs. van Raikes. “I am sorry I cannot tell you.” CHAPTER IV. CLAUDIA COMES FOR HELP. It was with an amused smile that Nick Carter leaned back in his taxi after leaving Mrs. van Raikes’ home in Millionaires’ Row, Fifth Avenue, on his way down to his home in Madison Avenue. He would restore the watch to its owner when he found out who was supposed to have stolen it. His busy brain had enabled him to see that there was an intrigue of some kind in which the three men and this girl who had interested himself so much were concerned, and he felt that the watch was perhaps the key to it. At all events, he would not give it up until he knew what the attack upon the Mexican at the ball really meant. When he stepped into his own house he was met in the hall by his assistant, Chick. “Say, chief, there’s a girl in the library.” “A girl? What kind?” “A peach,” replied Chick enthusiastically. “She wants to see you.” “Did she give her name?” “No. She said you would know her when you saw her. But she was determined to wait till you got back.” “Must be something important,” remarked Nick, as he went upstairs. “Oh, Mr. Carter, I am so glad you have come! I want your advice about something.”