"Well, our collectors who don't worry over millions are frequently stung by clever counterfeits. But we laboring men, who must devote all our time to our work, are usually able to tell imitations from the real thing. We are not impressed by 'four-flushing,' your Excellency!" The Duke scowled at Warren, vainly attempting to divine the meaning of the Yankee slang. But the Kentuckian was impatient: he knew that debates were seldom as productive as labor in a workshop, when it came down to fundamentals. Carlos was impatiently interrupted. "Well, so much for the treasure--let's hear about the ghost. Of course I'm _certain_ that there's no connection between the two, in such an aristocratic land as Spain, which scoffs at the American pursuit of the miserable, despised dollar.... What's your private opinion of this ghost? Is he a real, dependable, hell-bent spook, deserving all this press stuff which has been given to him? I've had so much experience with spirits--being a native Kentuckian--that they must be 100-proof to interest me!... Do you really put any stock in ghosts, Duke?" "Yes, Mr. Warren, I am convinced that there are such things. This world is filled with evidences of the supernatural." "Then you honestly believe this castle is haunted?" "I know it!" And the Duke's black eyes sparkled with an intensity which had its effect even upon the cynical Warren Jarvis. "So you think this ghost is dangerous to encounter--that it is the cause of the mysterious deaths and disappearances in the old castle?" "I do, Mr. Warren!" Jarvis whistled meditatively. The Duke looked disgusted; this was so absolutely against all rules of his own conduct with women. "Well, what do you know about _that_?" Warren was again silent. The Duke was tabulating his own material and preparing his next charge of ammunition. "_Ghost_ is a broad term, your Excellency. There are fifty-seven varieties of them, just like good pickles. They're equally bad for the digestion. What is your particular conception of this particular ghost?" The Duke answered impatiently. "There are certain occult forces in this world, Mr. Warren, that science cannot classify or fathom. Some of them are at work in that castle, manifesting their weird powers. A priest might call them demons or fiends--a psychologist might term them, perhaps, returned spirits.... I can't say; but I have been there, and heard their curious warnings and manifestations. There is something definable there, in the periphery of those ancient ruins. A malignant spiritual force lurks within that mediæval stronghold. While it haunts those musty halls it is madness for any man to expose himself there." "You could write a good book on it, Duke," observed Jarvis irreverently. "Have you ever seen this ghost?" "My brother has," interrupted Maria Theresa impetuously. "Twice, to my knowledge, before I left Seguro. So had my father and the others who disappeared from human ken!"