miral Timworth so dreaded
now looked quite easy.

"What's the matter?" asked Dan, staring at his chum.

"Why?" countered Dave.

"You jumped so hard," Dan replied.

"I was thinking."

"Stop it!" advised Danny Grin. "A little harder thinking than that
might wreck the train."

Dalzell enjoyed every hour of the journey. In the daylight hours he
was busy "taking in" all the country through which the train passed.
In the evening hours, Dan was outside on the platform, at every
station, to watch the crowds, large or small.

As for Seaman Runkle, that splendid lad was absorbed, almost to the
point of gloom, in watching at every station for a sign of a spy on
the train with them.

Before they reached the French-Italian frontier Dave realized, with a
start, that Admiral Timworth had failed to provide them with such
credentials as would probably be called for in crossing the
Italian-French frontier, and that they had forgotten to ask for such
papers. However, at the frontier stop their friend Dandelli, the
Italian naval officer, in uniform, almost ran into them. He was glad
to vouch for the pair to the French and Italian guards at that point,
and, after some hesitation, Dave and Dan were allowed to proceed into
France.

"But be careful to have proper papers when returning, if you come this
way," Dandelli smilingly warned them.

It was seven o'clock on the second morning after leaving Naples when
the express reached Paris.

Hardly had the train stopped when Darrin and Dalzell were out and
moving through the station. Seaman Runkle kept at a distance behind
them, his sharp eyes searching for any signs of spies. But Runkle was
able to make no report of success when he stepped into the taxicab in
which his superior officers sat.

Danny Grin was again busy with his eyes as the taxicab darted through
the beautiful streets of the French capital.

"What are you laughing at?" Dave asked suddenly, noting that Dan's
grin was even wider than usual.

"Paris strikes me that way--that's all I can tell you," drawled Dan.

"Do you consider Paris a joke?" demanded Darrin.

"Of course not. But Paris has the name of being such a gay town--in
peace times, of course. But at this early hour the city looks actually
gray to me. If the look of the city doesn't improve, later in the day,
I can't understand how any one can feel like being gay."

"Paris and the world have managed well enough, in the past, to combine
for gayety," Dave re