"Don Alberto was a fellow-countryman," he went on; "he had many relatives and friends, by whom he was much beloved. But Mexico is far away, señor, and should there be any delay in communicating with those relatives or those friends, it is I, his countryman, upon whom you should call. Upon my own responsibility I request that every attention be accorded the body, and that no expense be considered. I also will be at—what you call la posado?—the 'otel. I thank you for your courtesy."
His departure left, besides the Captain and Mr. Merkel, only Howard Lynden and the Doctor; as the door closed behind the Mexican, the Doctor said:
"Now, then, we here are all about equally interested; if you have any idea how this dreadful crime was committed, pray enlighten us. Surely even vulgar curiosity is pardonable under the circumstances." He looked inquiringly from the Coroner to Mr. Converse.
The latter made no remark, but watched the Doctor steadily, while Mr. Merkel dubiously shook his head, and replied:
"It seems as though we scarcely had made a beginning yet. We shall be obliged to go much farther, Doctor—much farther."
"I will begin right now, then," Converse whispered. "Mr. Lynden, you can help me if you will."
All four were in the act of emerging from the room, when the Captain, as though an idea had just occurred to him, turned suddenly and touched Doctor Westbrook upon the arm.
"By the way, Doctor," he whispered, close to that gentleman's ear, "I notice you have several penholders on your table; are you particularly partial to any one of them? No, no, don't stop; go on."
The Doctor turned a surprised visage to his questioner.
"Why, yes, since you have mentioned it. I always use the black celluloid holder. Why?"