Herr Furstenheimer had indicated an inquiry to Kirtley as to whether he would like to join the other two. Upon his signifying affirmatively, the four walked northward. The flat face of one of the young men Gard fancied he had seen before. It was, however, of a somewhat familiar Teuton variety and lost in the maze of all the German visages he had seen. They idled along, recounting their exciting experiences in traveling. Gard told of the wax image in the train as the singular incident he had to offer. As it did not appear to appeal to the curiosity of his companions, he dropped the subject. The Germans are used to the grotesque and egregious. At intervals the company changed about by twos, their hats coming off frequently in the warmth of the evening. On reaching the top of a small ascent, a summer inn there invited to cooling drinks. It was a low-storied, straggling construction, with a large green yard and trees. There were no guests as yet for the approaching meal time. The cathedral acquaintances took one side of a table under the branches, and the companionable Furstenheimer with Gard faced them. With the beer they began comparing the parts of the world they hailed from. Kirtley belonged to that distant land--America! Incredible! He had traveled so far. It was a country the two newcomers wished to visit. They could not credit the surprising things they had heard concerning the United States. All was so odd there. The smaller German, with the broad face, having lost no time in being full of compliments about Kirtley's accent, went on: "You Americans learn our language better than we do yours. I could never get the th in my school. You seem to _do_ everything so differently in America, too. Now, there's your great game of cards, for instance. I was on a boat once going down the Danube and some of your compatriots were playing it. They called it--ach Gott!--what did they call it? _You_ know." "Poker," said Gard, amused. "No, that isn't it." "Bridge." "No, the devil, why can't I think of it? They played it--if I had a pack of cards I would show you what I mean. You could name it then." The German called the attendant. The latter did not come. The other hurried into the restaurant and came back waving a deck. "Now I will try to show you. I can't do it well. I have never seen it but once." "Monte," said Gard. It was not the name the German recognized. Kirtley laughed over this old county fair acquaintance. Three card monte under the walls of Charlemagne's church! This was bringing the ancient and the modern together with a vengeance. Furstenheimer thought the game was droll. He had never seen any played like that. "How can that be a game!" he exclaimed--"only three cards! You must have left out something. It looks ridiculous. What's the point?"