The appeal had the desired effect. Estuban's hands came down. His face was drawn and white, but composed. "How did it happen?" he asked quietly. "He was murdered by de Socotra's orders." "Of course! But have you the proof? Can we bring it home to that damned cold villain?" "With your help I think we can." "Ah, if that is so," cried Estuban, "if we can smash that devilish ring, my poor master has not died quite in vain! When did it happen?" "The night he landed; in a cab on his way from the pier." Estuban looked puzzled. "But if that is so, how is it he is registered here? The hotel clerk told me----" "It is de Socotra who is registered here under his name." "What is that for?" murmured Estuban blankly. "I hoped you could explain," said Greg. Estuban slowly shook his head. "Has the crime been reported to the police?" he asked. "No. But we have recovered the body. There are certain difficulties in the way. I will explain as we go on. We are very anxious to learn what Señor Bareda's note-book contains that makes it of such overwhelming importance." Estuban sprang up excitedly. "You have it? It is safe?" Greg shook his head. "De Socotra has it. We are trying to recover it. But what is in it? You see we are still in the dark as to the motives for the crime." "Oh, I can tell you that. But who are you, an officer? a detective?" "No." "Then how did you come to take an interest in this case?" Greg told him the whole story as briefly as possible. Estuban's expressive Latin face was a study in intense concern, astonishment, even grim humor at certain aspects of the tale. He only interrupted Greg once. "But that little girl, who was she?" "Amèlie de Socotra!" "Amèlie de Socotra! Impossible! Francisco's daughter!" "His adopted daughter." "Oh true, I had forgotten that." "And Bareda's niece." "But she foreswore my poor master when she went to live with the rich. He grieved over it. He had not spoken to her in ten years." "You are mistaken there. He sought her out the day before he sailed for New York on the _Allianca_, and had a long talk with her, a talk that profoundly influenced the girl." "I was in jail then," said Estuban coolly. "In jail!" said the astonished Greg. "Oh, that's nothing disgraceful in Managuay," said Estuban bitterly. "Go on."