"Then he'd better come across with some of it. You remember the freckled lad at Soissons who got fuzzy-headed from too much concussion? Well, he saw children around everywhere, too! It's a sure sign, Jack!" But now he laughed, adding: "Oh, I suppose our little Roumanian's all right, only----" He was interrupted by Monsieur, himself, who emerged from the companionway door. "I come again," he smiled apologetically, "because tomorrow our journeys part, and I have shown scant consideration for your kindness." "It's we who feel the obligation," Tommy murmured. "Now, if we could only help you find the child--supposing, of course, that's what you're watching for!" Monsieur gave a deep sigh, appearing to be quite overcome by a secret grief; but after a moment he looked at us, asking ingenuously: "You think my behavior unusual?" "Well, since you make a point of it," I laughed, and hesitated. "I see, I see! But, my young friends, you must take my word that I cannot tell you much." He drew us nearer. "This I may say: that, after Roumania dropped out of the war, the new Chancellor of Azuria wired imploringly for me to leave my classes at the University and come to him--because for years I have advised with Azurian statesmen, frequently going on special missions. By the recent death of the old Chancellor a certain paper came to light. This was a secret agent's report sent from Havana in 1914----I may not divulge its contents. But for the war it would have been followed up at once. Whether the same hopes exist now--well, I am here to discover. Ah, my young friends," his voice trembled, "much depends upon this! I must--I must find the child if it lives!" Tommy's eyes grew round. "I can say no more," Monsieur added. "Accept my thanks and gratitude for the help you have given me. And now--_bon soir_." He bowed, backing himself toward the stairs as though leaving a royal presence, doing it so easily, so naturally, that we did not even smile. When he had quite disappeared we turned and faced each other. "What do you think now?" I asked. "I think he's a treasure," Tommy cried. His face had lighted with a new excitement. "If we want any fun on this trip, don't let him get out of our sight! Stick to him! I won't deny he has a screw loose, but----" "That makes it all the better," I laughed, adding: "Looks like the Mater's toast might come true, after all, doesn't it!"--for I had described our New Year's Eve to Tommy. "Sonny, I've a hunch we won't even have to tiptoe over the hill to find adventures with him around! He's their regular hanging-out place!" Gates came up, and seemed vastly amused when we told him of our hopes. "He doesn't look like much of an adventurer, sir, but he's certainly a change from the great run of people I've met. Still, I carn't see how we're going to keep him against his will!" "Neither can I, Tommy." "Use a little persuasion." "But suppose he won't persuade?"