"And just where, please, did you find that handkerchief?" continued Mr.
Grimm.

"Handkerchief?" repeated the diplomatist. "You mean Miss Thorne's
handkerchief?" He paused and regarded Mr. Grimm keenly. "Señor, what am
I to understand from that question?"

"It was plain enough," replied Mr. Grimm. "Where did you find that
handkerchief?" There was silence for an instant. "In this room?"

"Yes," replied Señor Rodriguez at last.

"Near the safe?" Mr. Grimm persisted.

"Yes," came the slow reply, again. "Just here," and he indicated a spot
a little to the left of the safe.

"And _when_ did you find it? Yesterday afternoon? Last night? This
morning?"

"This morning," and without any apparent reason the diplomatist's face
turned deathly white.

"But, Señor--Señor, you are mistaken! There can be nothing--! A woman!
Two hundred pounds of gold! Señor!"

Mr. Grimm was still pleasant about it; his curiosity was absolutely
impersonal; his eyes, grown listless again, were turned straight into
the other's face.