“I can't say that I enjoy the simile, but I'm conceited enough to think it is not as free from dents as it was when I began. I'm not quite sure about it, but I believe with a little more time and security against interference I might have--er--have--'' “Got away with the swag, as Turk would say. Well, it's this way. If the prince investigates and finds that you were frightened away just in time to prevent wholesale looting, you'll have to do some expert dodging to escape the consequences of the crime. He'll have the duke and the count and a few others do nothing but get up surprise parties for you.” “That's it, Dickey. That's what I'm afraid of--the surprise parties. He's afraid of me, or he wouldn't have gone to the trouble of having me watched. They've got something brewing or they wouldn't have been so quiet for the past two weeks. Courant is gone and--” “How do you know Courant isn't here?” “Turk says he has disappeared.” “Turk doesn't know everything. That fellow may have a score of disguises. These French detectives are great on false whiskers and dramatic possibilities. The chances are that he has been watching you night and day, and I'll bet my head, if he has, he's been able to tell Ugo more about your affair with Miss Garrison than you know yourself, my boy.” They turned to retrace their steps, Phil gloomily surveying the big, partially-lighted house across the way. A man met them and made room for them to pass on the narrow walk. He was a jaunty, well-dressed young fellow and the others would have observed nothing peculiar about him had they not caught him looking intently toward the house which was of such interest to them. As he passed them he peered closely at their faces and so strange was his manner that both involuntarily turned their heads to look after him. As is usually the case, he also turned to look at them. “I saw that fello\v in the hotel,” said Savage. Five minutes later they met Turk and, before they could utter a word of protest, he was leading them into the Rue du Prince Royal. “There's a guy follerin' you,” he explained. “An' th' two swells is drivin' aroun' in a cab like as if they wuz expectin' fun. They just passed you on th' avenoo, an' now they's comin' back. That's their rig--cuttin' across there. See? I tell you, they's somethin' in the air, an' it looks as though it ain't goin' to pan out as they wanted it to.” “What's the matter with you? The duke and the count went to a dance hall,” expostulated Quentin. “To make a night of it,” added Savage “Didn't you see a nice lookin' feller up there in th' avenoo, an' didn't he size you up purty close? That's him--that's Courant, th' fly cop. Git inside this doorway an' you'll see him pass yere in a couple of seconds. He's not a block behind us.” Sure enough the dapper stranger passed by the three men in shadow, looking uneasily, nervously up and across the street. “He's lost th' trail,” whispered Turk, after Courant was beyond hearing.