He then read:
“‘The Campes in Mexico seem to have been a family that held the respect and good will of the community. Their business dealings were always carried on on a high plane, and they were personally affable and easily approached. For years success marked all their ventures; their undertakings brought rich returns and seemed constantly increasing.
“‘The house was seldom for very long out of the public eye. However, about five years ago, there came a lull in their doings. Their ventures were few; and in the completion of some large contracts they were known to have borrowed money.
“‘This lull continued for about the space of a year, and seemed to grow more and more pronounced. The public was unaware of anything wrong, but those on the inside knew that the Campes had lost a very great deal of money; and as time passed it was a question as to whether they would recover or no.
“‘But, suddenly, recover they did, and brilliantly. Some of their copper holdings developed amazingly, and in a short time they were going along at their usual winning pace, just as though nothing had ever happened. During this commercial halt, if I may so call it, I find there was also a sort of social one. And as you asked me to pay special attention to the friends of the head of the house, I looked into their social sagging with a good deal of interest.
“‘In its efforts to regain its financial footing during the time of depression, the house of Campe dealt with people with whom it would have hesitated to associate itself in days more flush. Also it made acquaintances, possibly through these dealings, with people who were entirely unknown in those circles in which the family had always moved. One of these in particular was a man named Alva, who had once been a professor of physics at Chapultepec. He was, I understand, a peculiar sort of person, a cripple, who made a boast of his Indian ancestry. Alva bore a bad reputation, and was considered wonderfully clever in many ways. There was another of these new-made friends—an American—named Evans, a fat, smooth individual——’”
“Hello!” exclaimed Mr. Scanlon, in recognition, “do I once more meet my friend of the covered bridge?”
“‘This American,’” continued Ashton-Kirk, his eyes still upon the sheets, “‘is known to have been in various sorts of trouble in Honduras and Guatemala; but just what these offences were I have not been able to learn. However, the Guatemalan Minister of Police of the period in which these things took place is now that country’s Minister at Washington; something might be learned from him. During the period of the Campe family’s depression, Frederic Campe, father to the Frederic now in the United States, was quite intimate with both Alva and Evans. They were received frequently at his house and, apparently, highly esteemed. But when the financial turn came, this intimacy grew less apparent; finally it ceased altogether. It was probably a year after this that Frederic Campe met his death on board his yacht.’”
The special detective laid the sheets upon the table, and looked at Scanlon.
“Well,” he asked, “what do you think?”