The Camera Chap nodded. “Forgeries, I suppose?” he suggested. “Of course, President Felix never wrote them?” Her reply astonished him greatly. “I believe he did write them,” she said. “They might be forgeries very skillfully done, but I think not. I am almost positive that they are in his own handwriting.” Hawley stared at her in bewilderment. “But I don’t quite understand, señora. You can’t mean that they’ve actually permitted him to communicate with you?” “Not permitted--forced him to do so!” rejoined the woman, her dark eyes flashing. “If those notes are genuine, they must have been written under compulsion.” “Might I inquire what they said?” the Camera Chap said eagerly. The señora sighed. “The first one said merely that he was alive and well, and that I must not worry. The others--there have been at least a dozen of them, so far--were to the same effect, but some of them contained the additional assurance that he was very comfortable, and would send for me as soon as he considered it safe to do so.” The Camera Chap frowned. “How did these notes come to you, señora?” “Through the mails.” “To your Washington address?” “Yes. They were postmarked Paris, France. That was the whole object of the diabolical subterfuge--to make me believe that my husband was over there, at liberty, living on the proceeds of his crime.” Doctor Bonsal nodded gravely. “Of course, that was the motive of those notes,” he said, “and the señora was clever enough to pretend to be completely deceived by them.” “Splendid!” the Camera Chap exclaimed. Then, as a thought came to him: “But there is one other question that I would like to ask. It concerns that chap, Cipriani, or Rodriguez, whichever his name is. He, of course, señora, knew the truth about your husband?” The woman hesitated, and her questioner caught a swift glance which passed between her and Doctor Bonsal. “Why do you ask that?” the physician demanded sharply. “What do you know about Rodriguez, sir?” “Not very much,” Hawley replied. “I saw, of course, what happened on the customhouse dock at Puerto Guerra, the other day, and later, when I arrived here, I learned from the clerk at the hotel the significance of what I had witnessed. I was informed that General Rodriguez had come to Baracoa to start a revolution.” Once more a swift glance passed between the old man and the señora. It was evident to the Camera Chap that the pair were exceedingly disconcerted by this turn in the conversation. “Did--did this hotel clerk say anything which gave you cause to believe that Rodriguez knew President Felix’s fate?” Doctor Bonsal stammered. Happening to glance at the señora, the Camera Chap observed that her lips were parted, and that her whole attitude indicated that she awaited his answer with great suspense.