e cautiously; but they arrived safely, shortly after one, and left the
automobile at the company's garage, with the explanation (readily accepted,
since a police commissary gave it) that the man who belonged with the
machine had met with an accident; indeed, this was true, for the genuine
chauffeur had used Gibelin's bribe money in unwise libations and appeared
the next morning with a battered head and a glib story that was never fully
investigated.

"Now," said Coquenil, as they left the garage, "where can we go and be
quiet? A cafe is out of the question--we mustn't be seen. Ah, that room you
were to take," he turned to Tignol. "Did you get it?"

"I should say I did," grumbled the old man, "I've something to tell you."

"Tell me later," cut in the detective. "We'll go there. We can have
something to eat sent in and--" he smiled indulgently at Tignol--"and
something to drink. Hey, _cocher!_" he called to a passing cab, and a
moment later the three men were rolling away to the Latin Quarter, with
Coquenil's leather bag on the front seat.

"_Enfin!_" sighed Pougeot, when they were finally settled in Tignol's room,
which they reached after infinite precautions, for M. Paul seemed to
imagine that all Paris was in a conspiracy to follow them.

"I've been watched every minute since I started on this case," he said
thoughtfully. "My house has been watched, my servant has been watched, my
letters have been opened; there isn't one thing I've done that they don't
know."

"They? Who?" asked the commissary.

"Ah, who?" repeated M. Paul. "If I only knew. You saw what they did with
Gibelin to-night, set him after me when he is supposed to be handling this
case. Fancy that! Who gave Gibelin his orders? Who had the authority?
That's what I want to know. Not the chief, I swear; the chief is straight
in this thing. _It's some one above the chief_. Lucien, I told you this was
a great case and--it is."

"Then you didn't mean what you were saying in the automobile about having
doubts?"

"Not a word of it."

"That was all for Gibelin?"

"Exactly. There's a chance that he may believe it, or believe some of it.
He's such a conceited ass that he may think I only discovered him just at
the last."

"And you're _not_ thinking of going to Rio Janeiro?"

Coquenil shut his teeth hard, and there came into his eyes a look of
indomitable purpose. "Not while the murderer of Martinez is walking about
this town laughing at me. I expect to