devil!"

"What did you do with the boots you were trying to return that night?"
questioned the detective.

"Burned them."

Coquenil was silent a moment. "And this American? What of him--now?"

"He will be tried and----" The baron shrugged his shoulders.

"And be found guilty?"

"Yes, but--with jealousy as an extenuating circumstance. He'll do a few
years, say five."

"I never saw quite why you put the guilt on him."

"It had to go on some one and--he was available."

"You had nothing against him personally?"

"Oh, no. He was a pawn in the game."

"A pawn to be sacrificed--like Martinez?"

"Exactly."

"Ah, that brings me to the main point. How did Martinez get possession of
your secret?"

"He met the girl accidentally and--remembered her."

"As the one he had rescued from the Charity Bazaar fire?"

"Yes. You'd better eat a little. Try some of this cold meat and salad? My
cook makes rather good dressing."

"No, thanks! Speaking of cooks, how did you know the name of that canary
bird?"

"Ha, ha! Pete? I knew it from the husband of the woman who opens the big
gate of the Villa Montmorency. He cleans your windows, you know, and--he
was useful to me."

"He knew you as--Groener?"

"Of course."

"None of these people knew you really?"

"No."

"Not Dubois?"

"Ah, Dubois knew me, of course, but--Dubois is an automaton to carry out
orders; he never knows what they mean. Anything else?"

Coquenil thought a moment. "Oh! Did you know that private room Number Seven
would not be occupied that night by Wilmott and the dancing girl?"

"No."

"Then how did you dare go in there?"

"Wilmott and the girl were not due until nine and I had--finished by half
past eight."

"How did you know Wilmott would not be there until nine?"

"Martinez told me. It was in Anita's _petit bleu_ that Mrs. Wilmott showed
him."

"Had you no direct dealings with Anita?"

The baron shook his head. "I never saw the girl. The thing just happened
and--I took my chance."

"You bought the auger for Martinez and told him where to bore the holes?"

"Yes."

"And the key to the alleyway door?"

"I got a duplicate key--through Dubois. Anything else?"

"It's all very clever," reflected M. Paul, "but--isn't it _too_ clever? Too
complicated? Why didn't you get rid of this billiard player in some simpler
way?"

"A natural question," agreed De Heidelmann-Bruck. "I could have done it
easily in twenty ways--twenty stupid safe w