Once more there was a display of gestures and shrugs. “I believe there is a saying in the señor’s own beautiful language to the effect that it is sometimes advisable to give a rogue plenty of rope in order that he may bring about his own hanging.” “Who claims to have seen me?” “I myself had that honor,” Lopez answered, with a bow. “By Jove!” exclaimed the prisoner, with an ironical laugh, “you certainly are the busy little man. Nothing seems to escape those eagle eyes of yours. But, after all, the fact that you saw me leaving a physician’s house doesn’t strike me as being very incriminating. How do you know I didn’t go there to consult him professionally?” “If Señor Hawley can prove that such was the case it would undoubtedly be to his advantage,” Lopez responded. “But, of course, in that event, his testimony would have to agree with that of the lady.” “The lady?” A shade of anxiety flitted across the snapshot adventurer’s face. “I refer to the lady who came out of Doctor Bonsal’s house that night with Señor Hawley and entered the automobile which was waiting for her at the garden gate. Señora Felix was heavily veiled, but that disguise was not sufficient to prevent me from recognizing her.” Portiforo’s spy laughed maliciously at the prisoner’s evident discomfiture. “And she is not the only fair witness we shall have at the trial in the event of Señor Hawley’s insisting that he is not an insurrecto spy,” he announced. “The government of Baracoa would regret exceedingly having to put the daughter of the United States minister to any inconvenience, but if Señor Hawley’s attitude makes the testimony of these ladies necessary----” “Their testimony won’t be necessary,” Hawley interrupted grimly. “Whatever happens, we’ll leave the women entirely out of this business.” Lopez bowed. “Señor Hawley has decided most chivalrously.” With this remark, evidently well satisfied with the result of their conversation, he turned on his heels and abruptly left the prisoner to his own thoughts.