"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 passage. 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 asserted 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 nobleman'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 titles, but they would hardly interest you." The detective glared at him malevolently, mimicking the crisp enunciation of the nobleman.