It is not necessary to state that our hero was aroused and stirred to the very lowest depths of his nature. There did remain one remote chance that the motive was different from the one indicated, but such a possibility was very remote. Our hero had the deepest possible interest in the missing girl, and he did feel that if the mother’s premonitions were correct that it would have been far better if indeed the dead had been veritably Amalie Speir; but as long as there was a possibility our hero was determined not to give up, and he said cheerily to the almost distracted mother:

“I think I can assign another motive for the passing off of the dead for the living, and I will solve the mystery. If Amalie, your child, is the victim of villains she still lives and we can find and rescue her, and mark my words: if any harm has come to her the perpetrators will have reason to wish that they had never been born; but on my honor, I assure you I can discern where there could have been another motive, and up to this time, if I am correct, your daughter lives scatheless of any real harm save the sorrow and anxiety she must feel in considering your sufferings because of her strange absence.”

“Can you bid me hope?”

“I can.”

“And you will find my child?”

“I will; remember you are a rich woman; no one can dispute your right to the great fortune I hold in trust for you, and I have a suggestion to make. I desire that you follow my suggestion.”

“I will.”

“It may startle you, but it is for the best.”

“You are my best and only friend in these present trying conditions. I will do whatever you suggest.”

“I intend with the full approbation of Mr. Townsend to turn over your fortune to you. Among your properties is a very fine house handsomely furnished. I desire that you occupy this house, take possession at once.”

“My doing so will excite comment.”

“No, your life has been so comparatively obscure no one will pay any attention to it. I only desire that the Richards family and this baron become aware of the fact that you have fallen heir to a great fortune. All inquiries as to the source of your wealth will remain a secret yes, a secret forever. No one can dispute your ownership. Should there be any comment Mr. Townsend can offer the explanation, and his high reputation as a former banker and citizen will silence all comment. I have a special reason for the carrying out of this scheme, and should any one so far interest themselves as to inquire whence your fortune comes refer them to Mr. Townsend, who has acted as trustee.”

Our hero proceeded to carry out the business of the transfer. He had settled the matter as to the heirship, and in the meantime Mrs. Speir very reluctantly took possession of an elegant residence, and when Mr. Townsend and our hero called upon her the latter said:

“You will have a grand home to welcome your daughter to when she returns, and this home is your own.”

When everything was arranged Jack went under a disguise and through Mr. Townsend he had himself introduced as a young Spanish millionaire of excellent family.

To those of our readers who have not read the previous exploits of our hero, we will say that Jack Alvarez had lived many years in Madrid and spoke the language like a native. His boyhood years had been passed in Spain indeed, his mother, an American woman, was in Spain when her two sons, Jack and Gil, were born.

As the young Spanish millionaire Jack went under a most radical change. He was an adept at disguises, and no one would ever have suspected in the young Spaniard who could not speak English the real Jack Alvarez, the acute detective. Our hero arranged to play a dual rôle, and it was as Jack Alvarez he met the baron. There had come a complete change over the demeanor of the baron. He appeared to have money, and he actually invited our hero to dine with him and Jack accepted the invitation, and during the meal the baron said:

“I may appear gay, but I am very sad.”

“Indeed?”

“Yes, you are my only confidant; I loved Amalie Speir, the young governess, and I have been heartbroken since the discovery that the poor girl committed suicide.”

“It was sad. What do you suppose could have been her motive?”

“Despondency, of course.”

“What could have caused the despondency?”

“Without egotism I can say that she loved me, and my inability to marry at present caused the despondency.”

“You are wrong.”

“I am wrong?”

“Yes.”

“Then you know what caused her despondency?”

“I do not, but I know it was not love for you, nor her inability to marry for lack of money. Were you aware that Miss Amalie Speir was an heiress?”

The baron’s face assumed the hue of death, while a feeling of exultation agitated our hero’s heart. That sudden pallor to a man like Jack spoke volumes.

“She was an heiress?” repeated the man, and actually in husky tones.

“Yes, she was an heiress. Do you not know that her mother has come into her share of the property, and is at present living in a magnificent mansion of her own?”

“It is all news to me. Did Amalie know that she was an heiress?”

“Certainly she did, but she was a girl who would not boast of her prospects. She was to arrive at a certain age before she came into possession. In a year or two, if she had lived, she would have been a very rich woman; but you must excuse me; I have enjoyed your treat very much; next time it will be my treat.”

“But hold, I desire to ask you a few questions.”

“I cannot answer any questions now; I am very busy; in fact, I will tell you that evidence has been furnished that leads the friends of Amalie Speir to believe that she did not commit suicide, but was murdered. I am investigating the facts. If it is proved that she was murdered it will go hard with her murderers, that’s all.”

The changing expressions upon the face of the baron were many, and every change of expression was a telltale look to our hero, and as he was doing so well he proceeded and said:

“In fact, the incidents of that death are very conflicting and complicated. Mrs. Speir is beginning to believe that her daughter is not dead, that it is all a conspiracy to make it appear that her daughter is dead in order to rob her of her fortune. So you see, my dear baron, it may be that after all you may win a rich and handsome bride. I have the case in hand and am gaining ground every day. I believe I will soon be able to establish that Amalie Speir still lives.”

The baron fell back in his chair like one suddenly stricken, and as the detective gazed upon the man the thought ran through his mind: “You played me nicely there for awhile, but my turn has come. We are playing another game now.”

We will say that our hero did admire the man’s talents, although mystified by the incidents attending the fine play, but he was getting even in a most thrilling manner. If ever a criminal by his agitation betrayed guilt, August Wagner did so. Under the fire of the detective, so skillfully directed, the schemer lost all his equipoise, for Jack had become, as indicated, fully convinced that Wagner was at the bottom of the whole scheme, or the instrument of the party who was putting up what our detective denominated “a game.” Jack kept pretending all the time that he desired to get away, but Wagner urged him in almost pitiful tones to stay.

“I haven’t time.”

“But tell me what are the testimonies you have secured.”

“It is not in my line of business to betray our movements. I am a regular detective and I have been assigned to this case. I am determined to push through to some startling denouement.”

The detective had already pushed through to a startling denouement. He had purposely lingered a long time at the dinner. The two young men had entered the place very late in the afternoon, and darkness was beginning to fall.

Jack only took a few moments to work a complete change in his appearance. He was down to active work and determined to move very fast. While working his change our hero did not lose sight of the entrance to the hotel where he and Wagner had dined, and he had prepared for what is called a “lightning change.” A few moments passed and he saw Wagner leave the dining-room. He fell to the man’s trail under his new guise. He saw Wagner go to a district telegraph station, saw him write a note and dispatch a messenger with it, and he muttered:

“Aha! young man, I will watch you. Never mind the messenger, I reckon it is a case where the mountain will come to Mahomet.”

Having dispatched his note Wagner issued forth and walked slowly along the street, but in a short time he returned to the restaurant where he had just dined, and Jack followed him in. The detective called a waiter and addressed him in Spanish. The waiter did not comprehend, and Jack made quite a scene in his efforts to make himself understood, and finally the head waiter approached the table. Wagner was interested in the scene, as the Spaniard was only a few feet distant, and he heard the waiter say to his chief:

“This gentleman is a Spaniard; he cannot speak English. I cannot make out what he says.”

The head waiter knew a few words of Spanish and managed at length to take the supposed Spaniard’s order, and the latter ordered quite an elaborate dinner. He had a purpose; he desired to make time. He did so; he sat there over an hour eating very slowly and reading a Spanish paper which he had drawn from his pocket, and soon a lady entered and approached the table where Wagner sat. She said as she joined the baron:

“I received your hurried message; what has occurred?”

As the woman spoke she turned and glanced at the supposed Spaniard, and Wagner said:

“You need not fear him; he is Spanish; cannot speak a word of English. It is lucky he is there, as unconsciously he will protect us from other neighbors, and I have a great deal to say.”

“Order some wine. I am greatly disconcerted and alarmed. Your note was so urgent.”

“Necessarily urgent; I have the most startling information.”

The man spoke in a low tone, but there were acute ears near by, and our hero distinctly overheard every word that was spoken.

“You have received startling information?”

“I have.”

“In what direction?”

“As concerns Amalie.”

“Well?”

“A detective is employed to work on the case.”

“A detective is employed?”

“Yes.”

“I thought the affair had dropped from public notice.’

“On the contrary, I know personally the detective who is employed. He is not a very smart man, but he is energetic and persistent. He told me that evidence had been procured that Amalie had been murdered.”

The woman laughed in a disdainful manner and replied:

“We know better.”

“Certainly we do, but an investigation in that direction has already stirred up other suspicions.”

“What other suspicions?”

“Suspicions that may lead to the most perilous consequences to us.”

“Consequences to us?”

“Yes.”

“How?”

“In the first place it is known that Amalie is an heiress.”

“Impossible!”

“It is true, and more.”

“What more?”

“There are those who suspect that she still lives.”