The gang of Americans in the train had named Kestner, Breslau, and

Weishelm--the one man of the gang whom he had never seen--as

prospective partners in this enterprise.

Here, somewhere in this building, were their gambling headquarters.

Was there any possible chance that the stolen box and its contents

might have been brought here for temporary safety?

Might it not now be hidden somewhere in this very building by men too

cunning to risk leaving the city when every train and every road would

be watched within an hour of the time that the robbery was

committed?

Leaning back carelessly on the lounge and keeping his eyes on the

people in the café, Neeland imparted these ideas to Sengoun in a low

voice--told him everything he knew in regard to the affair, and asked

his opinion.

"My opinion," said Sengoun, who was enchanted at any prospect of

trouble, "is that this house is 'suspect' and is worth searching. Of

course the Prefect could be notified, arrangements made, and a search

by the secret police managed. But, Neeland, my friend, think of what

pleasure we should be deprived!"

"How do you mean?"

"Why not search the place ourselves?"

"How?"

"Well, of course, we could be picturesque, go to my Embassy, and fill

our pockets with automatic pistols, and come back here and--well, make

them stand around and see how high they could reach with both hands."

Neeland laughed.

"That would be a funny jest, wouldn't it?" said Sengoun.

"Very funny. But----" He nudged Sengoun and directed his attention

toward the terrace outside, where waiters were already removing the

little iron tables and the chairs, and the few lingering guests were

coming inside the café.

"I see," muttered Sengoun; "it is already Sunday morning, and they're

closing. It's too late to go to the Embassy. They'd not let us in here

when we returned."

Neeland summoned a waiter with a nod: "When do you close up inside here?"

"Tomorrow being Sunday, the terrace closes now, monsieur; but the café

remains open all night," explained the waiter with a noticeable German

accent.

"Thank you." And, to Sengoun: "I'd certainly like to go upstairs. I'd

like to see what it looks like up there--take a glance around."

"Very well, let us go up----"

"We ought to have some excuse----"

"We'll think of several on the way," rising with alacrity, but Neeland

pulled him back.

"Wait a moment! It would only mean a fight----"

"All fights," explained Sengoun seriously, "are agreeable--some more

so. So if you are ready, dear comrade----"

"But a row will do us no good----"

"Pardon, dear friend, I have been in serious need of one for an hour

or two----"

"I don't mean that sort of 'good,'" explained Neeland, laughing. "I

mean that I wish to look about up there--explore----"




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