“Ah!” said Aristide.
“A la bonne heure!” cried the Mayor.
“Arrest him at once,” said Aristide.
“Alas, Monsieur,” said the detective, “that I cannot do. I have called on him this morning and his wife tells me that he left for the North yesterday afternoon. But it is José Puégas that did it. I know his ways.”
“Tiens!” said the Mayor, reflectively. “I know him also, an evil fellow.”
“But why are you not looking for him?” exclaimed Aristide.
“Arrangements have been made,” replied the detective coldly.
Aristide suddenly bethought him of the furtive masquer of the night before.
“I can put you on his track,” said he, and related what he knew.
The Mayor looked dubious. “It wasn’t he,” he remarked.