“You have no right to come here!” he heard a girl exclaim petulantly. “It was very indiscreet. I must ask you to go away immediately. If you were discovered here it might cause a lot of trouble. My father----” “I am sorry, but I had to see you at once,” a man’s voice broke in. “I have made an important discovery--one that necessitated an immediate interview with you, Miss Throgmorton.” Gale pricked up his ears. Even before he had heard her name mentioned he had recognized the girl’s voice. He believed, too, that he knew the identity of her companion. In order to make sure he switched off the lights of the room, and, going to the French window which commanded a view of the garden, stepped softly onto the balcony. By the light of the moon he was able to discern the familiar outline of a tall, slim man who was standing with his profile turned toward the balcony. “Be careful!” he heard the girl say fearfully. “Suppose there should be somebody listening. Every word you say can be heard in the house. Can you not wait until some other time to discuss this matter, Mr. Hawley? Or, if it must be now, let us go to the other end of the garden. We shall have more privacy there.” Gale waited until they had disappeared, then hurried down the short flight of steps which led from the balcony to the grounds, and went in swift but stealthy pursuit of them. He did not have much difficulty in locating the pair. They were seated on a rustic bench beneath a bamboo tree, and the Camera Chap was talking excitedly in a voice raised above its normal pitch. “Why did you do it?” Gale heard him ask. “That’s what I can’t understand. What could have been your object in trying to make a fool of me.” “But I haven’t tried to make a fool of you, Mr. Hawley,” Virginia protested meekly. Hawley received this with an ironical laugh. Gale was astonished by his demeanor. On Park Row the Camera Chap enjoyed the enviable reputation of never having been known to lose his temper. It was said to be one of the reasons for his success. But now it was evident that he was far from being in an amiable mood. “For three weeks I’ve been hanging around Puerto Cabero, tying knots in my brain, trying to find a way of getting inside the fortress, in order to corroborate that story you told me the first day I met you,” Hawley said bitterly. “If you don’t call that making a fool of me, Miss Throgmorton, I’d like to know why. Perhaps you’d still like me to believe that Felix is locked up in El Torro?” “Well, isn’t he?” Virginia inquired, a tinge of mockery in her voice. “Isn’t he!” echoed Hawley. “As though you didn’t know! I suppose your subtle friend, the señora, hasn’t taken you into her confidence regarding the letters she has been receiving from her husband, eh?” “The letters!” the girl repeated, her voice trembling. “Why, what do you mean?”