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“Does the Senator really think to marry?” asked the Colombian, as he picked up his hat.

“I judge so. He is obviously very much infatuated with the girl’s unusual type of beauty. And, believe me, she thoroughly understands the art of managing men.”

“Indeed? Who is the girl?”

“The young daughter of the famous Irish actress, Nora Fitzgerald. Senator Carew....”

Crash—the bottle and glass smashed in pieces. The eavesdropper never stopped to see the damage he had done, but with incredible swiftness and stealth was out of the room and down the street before the irate proprietor had reached the deserted table.

“Que hay?” inquired the Colombian of the proprietor. He and the American had rushed into the room and over to the window by which the eavesdropper had been sitting.

“A drunken Spaniard knocked the bottle and glass from the table, and cleared out without paying the damage,” explained the proprietor in Spanish, as he signed to the mozo to sweep up the mess.

“What’s that in your hand?”

“A card, Señor, which I have just picked up from the floor.”