“You are from Cuba?”
“Yes, yes. I was with Señor the Colonel Don Juan in Cuba.”
“And do you know anything of the previous attempts which had been made upon his life, Pedro?”
“Nothing, sir. Nothing at all.”
“But the bat wing, Pedro?”
He looked at me in a startled way.
“Yes, sir,” he replied. “I found it pinned to the door here.”
“And what did you think it meant?”
“I thought it was a joke, sir—not a nice joke—by someone who knew Cuba.”
“You know the meaning of Bat Wing, then?”