toward Hendrix with a keen, knowing glance. The financier motioned to a chair, and the investigator
calmly seated himself.
“SORRY I'm a trifle late, Mr. Hendrix,” said Powell. “After I received your message to be here at eight
fifteen, I went up to Legira's place to take another look. I figured it would take me about twenty minutes
to get here. I didn't allow for a taxi delay.”
“You were at Legira's?” questioned Hendrix quickly.
“Outside of his house,” returned Powell. “It was a worth-while trip, too—”
“Ah! You learned something?”
“Nothing definite. The point is this, Mr. Hendrix. My job has been to watch the people who visit Legira,
as well as keeping tabs on the man himself. You've only heard from me occasionally, because everything
has appeared to be regular up there.”
“But to-night?”
“Well, there was a man went in to see him about twenty minutes of eight. That would have been regular,
in my opinion, but it happened to be the same man who showed up there before. It was the fellow who
called on him the night that Legira came in so late, about ten days ago.”
“I remember,” said Hendrix, nodding. “You've been watching for that man, haven't you?”
“Yes, sir. He's no crook, but he doesn't look right to me. So when he showed up to-night, I stayed
around to see what happened.”
“And then—”
“Well, he was still there when I had to leave to come here.”
“I see,” mused Hendrix. “By the way, Powell, your duties have been quite light during the past several
days. Your reports have all been uniform. I take it that you have kept a very close check on Legira.”
“Yes, sir. As much as necessary. You know that my main work was ended, more than a week ago,
when you said that Legira had been approved.”
“Of course. I simply kept you on because of that one visitor who came after midnight. I thought it best for
you to continue with your work. I am glad now that you did remain on the job. Tell me, Powell, when did
you last see Alvarez Legira?”
“Between seven fifteen and seven thirty to-night, sir. I was watching him —”
Powell paused in surprise as he noted the look of complete amazement that had come over the financier's
face. The investigator waited for Hendrix to speak.
“Where did you see Legira?” came the eager question.
“Entering his home, sir—”
“Shortly before seven thirty?”
“Yes, sir.”
“You are mistaken, Powell!”
“Not at all, sir.”
Hendrix turned and beckoned to Jermyn.
“Jermyn,” he requested, “tell Powell where Legira was at seven thirty tonight.”
“Dining with you, sir,” replied Jermyn seriously. “Here in this apartment, sir.”
IT was Powell's turn to register bewilderment. He looked from Hendrix to Jermyn as though completely
doubtful of their veracity. When he realized that both were serious in their statements, a puzzled frown
furrowed the investigator's forehead.
“There's something phony here!” declared Powell. “I trailed Legira and that man of his, Lopez, from the
time they left the consulate office. They had dinner together, at a hotel near Legira's house—”
“You saw Legira with Lopez?” demanded Hendrix. “Impossible!”
