Frank did not fancy being baffled in such a manner, but he realized that his efforts were wasted. Some of the waiters came and stood near, scowling at the three lads, which made Diamond long for a pitched battle. Rattleton, also, expressed an “itching” to punch a few heads.
Merry knew better than to create a disturbance there then, and so he was forced to beat a retreat, giving over the effort to obtain any information concerning Browning. When they were outside, he turned, and surveyed the front of the place closely.
“I suppose you are sure you’re right?” asked Jack. “This is the place?”
“Beyond a doubt,” declared Frank. “There are some clever rascals in there, and M. Delambre is chief of them all.”
But Merry was more downcast over the outcome of the affair than he cared to let his friends know.
CHAPTER VI.
TRAPPED.
The Champs-Élysées were blazing with light from the Arch of Triumph to the Place de la Concorde. The café-chantants were in full blast. Colored electric lights spelled out the names of the different places of amusement. Swarms of cabs and carriages, with their yellow side lamps, came and went. Long rows of tables stood under the trees, surrounded by men and women, who were dining in the open air, bareheaded, chatting, laughing, joyous.
Down the broad avenue went the three American lads, returning to the hotel, where they hoped to find the missing one. The sound of music and singing from the theaters lured them not. The sound of talk, and laughter, and tinkling glasses at the tables did not stop them. The sight of all these people enjoying themselves as human beings can enjoy themselves in no other part of the world did not check their footsteps.
Frank Merriwell had been there before, and he knew all this by heart; but, to Jack and Harry, the sights and sounds were new and novel. At some of the tables, they saw parties of respectable Americans, people of high standing and good breeding, eating and drinking there, beneath the lighted trees at the edge of the sidewalk, utterly unconscious that they were doing anything remarkable. And yet no amount of money could have induced those same persons to sit around a table place at the corner of Thirty-third Street and Broadway, in New York. In Paris, they were ready and glad to adopt the manners of the natives.