I exclaimed:

"Why, that is Salavera!"

"I thought as much," remarked the famous detective with a grim smile.
"He is not Salavera, but Rodriquez Despujol, one of the most dangerous
criminals in Spain!"

"Despujol!" cried Senor Andrade. "And he was in Madrid last night!"
Then he added: "Ah! if we had but known."

"True. But why was he in the English gentleman's room?" queried the
detective. "He is a dangerous character, and one would have thought
that instead of being covered he would, on being cornered, have drawn
his knife and attacked his adversary."

"Despujol is no amateur," the Chief of Police agreed. "We've wanted
him for the last five years for the assassination of the banker,
Monteros, in the train between Cordova and Malaga, and yet he always
evades us, even though he is one of the most audacious thieves in
Europe."

"But his friend Pedro?" I remarked, startled at what I had now
learned.

"He does not exist," replied the detective. "You no doubt had a lucky
escape. Had you demanded to see his friend he would no doubt have
killed you. He is a man of colossal strength--a veritable tiger, they
say."

"But what was the motive?" I asked. "I have no valuables, save my
watch and tie pin, and fifty pounds in English money. Surely it was
not worth while to kill me for that!"

"No. That's just it," replied the dark-eyed detective, whose chagrin
was so apparent that Despujol had slipped through his fingers. "The
game was not worth the candle. So he returned after proving to you his
bona fides. And these bona fides he always carries in order to
extricate himself from any ugly situation."

"But the carpet pins?" asked the hotel manager.

The director of the Spanish secret police shrugged his shoulders, and
said:

"Until Professor Vega can make a report we can do nothing. It is no
use basing theories upon mere surmises. So we can only wait for Senor
Vega to tell us what he discovers. Meanwhile, we will try and secure
Despujol--though I fear he has too long a start of us."

He crossed the room to the telephone, and a few minutes later spoke in
Spanish into the instrument in sharp, authoritative tones.

I understood him to be speaking to the police commissary at Zaragoza,
explaining that the much-wanted criminal Despujol had left Madrid for
that city, and giving the train by which he was supposed to be
travelling. Then, in turn, he spoke to the commissaries of Alcazar,
Salamanca, Valladolid and Arroyo, thus