Part 79 (2/2)

”No!”

”Very well, if you feel that way about it. But there is another way to render the evening agreeable. You see that sideboard?” he continued, pointing to a huge carved buffet piled to the ceiling with porcelain and crystal. ”What will you wager that I can not push it over with one hand?”

But Neeland declined the wager with an impatient gesture, and kept his eyes riveted on a man who had just entered the cafe. He could see only the stranger's well-groomed back, but when, a moment later, the man turned to seat himself, Neeland was not surprised to find himself looking at Doc Curfoot.

”Sengoun,” he said under his breath, ”that _type_ who just came in is an American gambler named Doc Curfoot; and he is here with other gamblers for the purpose of obtaining political information for some government other than my own.”

Sengoun regarded the new arrival with amiable curiosity:

”That worm? Oh, well, every city in Europe swarms with such maggots, you know. It would be quite funny if he tries any blandishments on us, wouldn't it?”

”He may. He's a capper. He's looking at us now. I believe he remembers having seen me in the train.”

”As for an hour or two at chemin-de-fer, baccarat, or roulette,”

remarked Sengoun, ”I am not averse to a----”

”Watch him! The waiter who is taking his order may know who you are--may be telling that gambler.... I believe he _did_! Now, let us see what happens....”

Sengoun, delighted at the prospect of an eventuality, blandly emptied his goblet and smiled generally upon everybody.

”I hope he will make our acquaintance and ask us to play,” he said.

”I'm very lucky at chemin-de-fer. And if I lose I shall conclude that there is trickery. Which would make it very lively for everybody,” he added with a boyish smile. But his dark eyes began to glitter and he showed his beautiful, even teeth when he laughed.

”Ha!” he said. ”A little what you call a mix-up might not come amiss!

That gives one an appet.i.te; that permits one to perspire; that does good to everybody and makes one sleep soundly! Shall we, as you say in America, start something?”

Neeland, thinking of Ali-Baba and Golden Beard and of their undoubted instigation by telegraph of the morning's robbery, wondered whether the rendezvous of the robbers might not possibly be here in the Cafe des Bulgars.

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 cafe, 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 Emba.s.sy, 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.

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