Greg laughed.
"When could he have told him?" Amy asked Greg.
"This afternoon when Señor Francisco started from the apartment for the train, he met Señor Saunders at the door. Señor Saunders entered the cab with him, and they started down-town together. He told him then. That is why Señor Francisco came rushing back in the state that you saw him."
The Spanish-American youth fell back. Rage and fright made his weak face hideous. A cold sweat had sprung out on his forehead; his teeth were bared. "It's a lie! a lie!" he repeated. "I never saw Francisco until afterwards. How do you know so much about my movements!"
"I drove the cab," said Greg simply.
Señor Henry stared at him speechlessly.
Amy very quietly started to pull a handsome ring from her finger. It was tight; it did not come easily. Both men watched the action with a fascinated gaze. She finally held out the ring towards Señor Henry. He refused it with a passionate gesture. She let it drop on the floor.
"Go!" she said.
He burst out in desperate appeals, reproaches, excuses, all in Spanish. Amy turned wearily away.
Greg stood up. "You've had your answer," he said harshly. "Go, before you're helped out."