"Of course."
The two Air Service boys had the satisfaction of seeing the "tip" they gave acted on, for as they left the station they observed the officer to whom they had reported, detailing a man in plain clothes, evidently one of the secret police, to follow the man they had watched in the dining car.
"We can leave the rest to the military," said Tom. "And now let's get to where we're going."
"Hadn't we better arrange for hotel accommodations, or to stop at a pension?" asked Jack. "You know Paris is crowded now, even in war times, and we've got to stay here all night, even if we learn that your father hasn't yet arrived."
"That's so," agreed Tom. "Maybe we had better get a place to bunk first."
It would not have been an easy task had they not worn the uniforms of aviators. But once these were noted, they were welcomed with smiles, and though at the first place they applied there was no room, the proprietor busied himself to such advantage that the boys were soon settled in a big double room with a fine view of a busy section of Paris.
On every side was seen evidence of the joy and satisfaction felt at the showing made by the progress of the United States in her war programme.
The stars and stripes were seen floating from many staffs, mingled with the tricolor of France and the English union jack. That Uncle Sam had at last gotten beyond the bounds of patience with a ruthless and sneaking enemy and was making energetic warfare against him was welcome news to those who had so long borne the unequal brunt of battle.
"Americans? Ah, everything that I have is yours!" the hotel proprietor told Tom and Jack. "You have but to ask. And now come, I will show you the way to the cellar."
"But we don't care to see the cellar," remarked Tom in wonder. "No doubt it is a very fine one, monsieur," he added in his best French, which was nothing to boast of. "No doubt it is most excellent, but we don't care for cellars."