"Speak English!" she commanded. The dark-skinned youth, guessing that the English was for Greg's benefit, shot a glance of purest hatred across the bed. To Amy he said: "Tell the Señora the truth, and she will leave Francisco." "And die of a broken heart," said Amy. "I'd rather kill Francisco." "But you cannot remain here among these people." "Remember, you are speaking of my friends," Amy warned him. "Answer me a question. How did you know you'd find me here?" "I guessed it." "That's not enough. How did you guess it?" "Well, Francisco asked me to spend the night in his apartment, so that the Señora would not be left alone. He had to be out late. Bianca telephoned from the sanitarium that you had been carried off. What was I to do? I didn't know where Francisco was. I dared not tell the Señora what had happened. Bianca said it was----" he jerked his head across the bed, "so I came down here." "You knew then that they had put me in a private madhouse," said Amy relentlessly. He shrugged. "Perhaps you thought I was mad?" "I did not. I told Francisco it was an outrage. Nothing I could say would move him. What was I to do?" "What steps did you take to get me out?" "Francisco swore to me that it was only for the night. As soon as he could arrange to get a private car, he said, he would send us all home together." "Why did Francisco put me in that place?" Señor Henry shrugged again. "Surely you know that. He had learned that you were working against him in political matters. I warned you, you know." "You mean criminal matters," Amy amended. Greg spoke for the first time. "Ask him how Señor Francisco learned of your activities." Señor Henry's shoulders and eyebrows were agitated together. "How should I know?" "Did you tell him?" Amy asked directly. He sprang up. "I did not tell him! I swear it! You insult me by asking such a question!" Amy turned to Greg. "What do you know?" Greg answered coolly: "He told him, right enough." "It's a lie!" cried Señor Henry, turning a little yellower than his wont. "I might have known who put that idea into your head! Would you take the word of this--this cabman, against mine!" Greg laughed. "When could he have told him?" Amy asked Greg. "This afternoon when Señor Francisco started from the apartment for the train, he met Señor Saunders at the door. Señor Saunders entered the cab with him, and they started down-town together. He told him then. That is why Señor Francisco came rushing back in the state that you saw him." The Spanish-American youth fell back. Rage and fright made his weak face hideous. A cold sweat had sprung out on his forehead; his teeth were bared. "It's a lie! a lie!" he repeated. "I never saw Francisco until afterwards. How do you know so much about my movements!" "I drove the cab," said Greg simply. Señor Henry stared at him speechlessly.