imagine that nobody was paying any
attention to what happened in the rue Soleil d'Or this noon?"

Nini laughed.

"The word flew as fast as the robber's taxicab. How many thousand
secret friends to the Triple Entente do you suppose knew of it half an
hour after it happened? From the Trocadero to Montparnasse, from the
Point du Jour to Charenton, from the Bois to the Bievre, the word
flew. Every taxicab, omnibus, _sapin_, every _bateau-mouche_, every
train that left any terminal was watched.

"Five embassies and legations were instantly under redoubled
surveillance; hundreds of cafes, bars, restaurants, _hotels_; all the
theatres, gardens, cabarets, _brasseries_.

"Your pigs of Apaches are not neglected, _va_! But, to my idea, they
got out of Paris before we watchers knew of the affair at all--in an
automobile, perhaps--perhaps by rail. God knows," said the girl,
looking absently at the dancing which had begun again. "But if we ever
lay our eyes on Minna Minti, we wear toys in our garters which will
certainly persuade her to take a little stroll with us."

After a silence, Neeland said:

"Is Minna Minti then so well known?"

"Not at the Opera Comique," replied Fifi with a shrug, "but _since_
then."

"An _artiste_, that woman!" added Nini. "Why deny it? It appears that
she has twisted more than one red button out of a broadcloth coat."

"She'll get the Seraglio medal for this day's work," said Fifi.

"Or the _croix-de-fer_," added Nini. "Ah, _zut_! She annoys me."

"Did you ever hear of a place called the Cafe des Bulgars?" asked
Neeland, carelessly.

"Yes."

"What sort of place is it?"

"Like any other."

"Quite respectable?"

"Perfectly," said Nini, smiling. "One drinks good beer there."

"Munich beer," added Fifi.

"Then it is watched?" asked Neeland.

"All German cafes are watched. Otherwise, it is not suspected."

Sengoun, who had been listening, shook his head. "There's nothing to
interest us at the Cafe des Bulgars," he said. Then he summoned a
waiter and pointed tragically at the empty goblets.

CHAPTER XXXI

THE CAFE DES BULGARS

Their adieux to Fifi and Nini were elaborate and complicated by bursts
of laughter. The Tziganes recommended Captain Sengoun to go home and
seek further adventures on his pillow; and had it not been for the gay
babble of the fountain and the persistent perfume of flowers, he might
have followed their advice.

It was after the two young men had lef