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The Gold of the Gods

11. The Shoe-Prints
"I'm afraid we've neglected the Senorita a bit, in our efforts to follow up what clues we
have in the case," remarked Kennedy, as we rode uptown again. "She needs all the
protection we can give her. I think we'd better drop around there, now that she is pretty
likely to be left alone."
Accordingly, instead of going back to the laboratory, we dropped off near the apartment
of the Mendozas and walked over from the subway.
As we turned the corner, far down the long block I could see the entrance to the
apartment.
"There she is now," I said to Kennedy, catching sight of her familiar figure, clad in
sombre black, as she came down the steps. "I wonder where she can be going."
She turned at the foot of the steps and, as chance would have it, started in the opposite
direction from us.
"Let us see," answered Kennedy, quickening his pace.
She had not gone very far before a man seemed to spring up from nowhere and meet her.
He bowed, and walked along beside her.
"De Moche," recognized Kennedy.
Alfonso had evidently been waiting in the shadow of an entrance down the street, perhaps
hoping to see her, perhaps as our newspaper friend had seen before, to watch whether
Lockwood was among her callers. As we walked along, we could see the little drama
with practically no fear of being seen, so earnestly were they talking.
Even during the few minutes that the Senorita was talking with him no one would have
needed to be told that she really had a great deal of regard for him, whatever might be her
feelings toward Lockwood.
"I should say that she wants to see him, yet does not want to see him," observed
Kennedy, as we came closer.
She seemed now to have become restive and impatient, eager to cut the conversation
short.
It was quite evident at the same time that Alfonso was deeply in love with her, that
though she tried to put him off he was persistent. I wondered whether, after all, some of
the trouble had not been that during his lifetime the proud old Castilian Don Luis could
 
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