The chief of the secret service turned and looked wonderingly at the bland stranger and resumed:  “After some reflection I have decided to make inquiries at all the hotels, to learn if any foreigner answering this description has lately arrived in the city.”

“You may be sure that any information I possess will be put at your disposal immediately,” said the manager, with a smile and a professional bow.

The only Koldo, breathing deeply, brought from his pocket a sheet of paper, while Mr. Pike propped himself deliberately against the door and tried to mold his features into that expression of guileless innocence which he had observed on the face of a cherub in the Vatican.

“He is very rugged and powerful,” said the detective, referring to his notes.  “Large, quite large—­black hair, dark eyes with a glance that seems to pierce through anything—­long mustache, also black—­wears much jewelry—­speaks with a marked German accent—­wears a suit of Scotch plaid—­heavy military boots.”

Mr. Pike removed his hat and allowed the electric light to twinkle on his ruddy hair.

“How—­ah—­where did you get this description?” he asked gently.

“From the Princess herself,” replied Popova.  “She saw him at close range.”

“Believe me, I am sorry, but no one answering the description has been at my hotel,” said the manager.

“Then I shall go to the Hotel Bristol and the Hotel Victoria,” announced Koldo, with something of fierce determination in his tone.

“An excellent plan,” assented the manager.

“Would you mind if I butted in with a suggestion?” said Mr. Pike, laying a friendly hand on the arm of the redoubtable Koldo.  “Don’t you think it would be better if you went alone to these hotels?  This distinguished gentleman,” indicating Popova, “is well known on account of being a high guy up at the palace.  Sure as you live, if he trails around with you, you will be spotted.  You don’t want to hunt this fellow with a brass band.  Besides, you don’t need any help, do you?”—­to the head of the secret service.

“Certainly not,” replied the famous detective, swelling visibly.  “I have all the data—­already I am planning my campaign.”

“Then I should like to have a talk with Pop-what’s-his-name.  I think I can slip him a few valuable pointers.  You go right along and nail your man and we’ll sit here in the shade of the sheltering palm and tell each other our troubles.”

“I must return to the palace quite soon,” murmured Popova, gazing at the stranger uneasily.

“Call a carriage for the professor,” spoke up Mr. Pike briskly, to the manager.  “I know his time is valuable, so we’ll get down to business immediately, if not sooner.”

The manager knew a millionaire’s voice when he heard it, so he hurried away.  The impatient Koldo said that he would communicate directly with the palace as soon as he had effected the capture, and started for the front door.  Then, remembering himself, he went out the back way.