"You fascinating little ass," Tommy murmured, "did you ever hear of love?" "Love?" the professor's face beamed into twice its usual breadth. "You, my boy Jack? Is she a Spanish mademoiselle?" "Good Lord, whoever heard of a Spanish mademoiselle! No, Jack says that she's a lady in need, who lives in the pocket of her father's white serge coat that hangs behind his stateroom door; and she's in a helluva lot of trouble, but Jack doesn't know where else she is, so we're going to comb out the universe and find her! Get the idea?" "I will drink some coffee," he stammered, and disappeared. Tommy and I decided that we must be after the _Orchid_ without losing a minute, as there was still a chance of drawing in sight of her before she could leave Key West. Yet I first had a mission to fulfill at the cafe, nor did I confide this at once to him lest he brand me a total wreck. I knew that he was delighted at the prospect of this bizarre chase, however chimeric it might seem to him, for he possessed the faculty of "playing-true" even in the veriest of fairy-tales. So for the moment I let the other matter rest, not realizing at the time that he had read more of it in my face than I meant to show. Gates, also, had caught the excitement and was waiting with the launch to push off; and thus, while he concluded official duties at the port, I entered the cafe--in the present unfriendly light a changed place from the night before. As luck would have it, my own waiter was the first man I saw. "Do you remember finding a small piece of crumpled paper on my table last night?" I asked. "_Si_, Senor; the mad _caballero_ came for it." "Did he get it?" "But, no, Senor," the waiter lowered his voice. "Yet he came near to, being much angry, and calling you--pardon me!" "Well, what? What, man?" He still hesitated, so I carelessly took out my wallet. It's amazing, the power of a wallet! "He demanded the paper of our _maitre d'hotel_, saying you, Senor, were a pig of a detective--and as we admire the detective not at all, everyone searched for it. But I had seen other things, Senor," he smiled knowingly. "You have it?" "_Si, si,_--but not so loud! Could I give it to the old one? Even a poor waiter may sometimes observe! _Mas vale saber que haber, Senor_," he shrugged and smiled as the ancient proverb slipped from his tongue. "You've a mighty level head on you, kid," I agreed; a metaphor he may or may not have understood. There was no doubt in my mind that his words, "wisdom is better than wealth," were never more aptly spoken. "I saw it after you left, Senor, and put it away--so! The mad _caballero_ soon came--he was not happy. We searched the floor, and all the time he was shaking his head and mumbling that Mademoiselle had confessed to writing it--and to a detective! He was quite crazy. Ah, with what care and sympathy did I help him, Senor, and how generously did he reward my careful search!"