"Don Carlos!" she gasped. "You! But I don't understand."

"I am El Diablo Cojuelo, dear Myra," explained Don Carlos, obviously
enjoying the sensation he had created. "I feared you had guessed my
secret."

"So the whole affair, I take it, is an elaborate practical joke?" Myra
queried after a pause, dropping back into her seat and forcing a laugh.
"El Diablo Cojuelo, the outlaw, is merely a creature of your own
imagination?"

"I am El Diablo Cojuelo," repeated Don Carlos. "I am a dual
personality. At my castle and at Court I am Don Carlos de Ruiz,
Governor of a Province and an administrator of the laws. Here in my
mountain eyrie I am Cojuelo, the outlaw, acknowledging no laws save
those I make myself."

"I still do not understand," remarked Myra, with perplexity in her blue
eyes. "Do you mean to say you lead a double life and occasionally
masquerade as a brigand, without anyone knowing that Don Carlos and
Cojuelo are one and the same? Is there no one aware of your identity?"

"Many of my people are aware of my identity, but none would betray me,
even if put to the torture," replied Don Carlos. "Those who are in the
secret vastly enjoy the way in which I hoodwink the authorities. They
enjoy the joke of my offer of a reward for the capture of El Diablo
Cojuelo, dead or alive, and my periodical 'searches' for the outlaw."