"Though I suppose he's somewhere around," said Jack.
"Well, maybe we can fool him," suggested Tom. "We're going quite on the other side of Paris."
They made sure that, as far as could be told by observation, there was no one resembling the spy around the place or in the street in front, and then got into the cab with their baggage. The chauffeur seemed not to know them, but Tom thought there was just the slightest wink of one eye, as though to indicate that the game was going well.
Their cab was driven out along the Boulevard Ragenta, past the Gare du Nord, and across the Boulevard de Rochechquart to a small street running off the Rue Ramey, and there the cab stopped in front of a small but neat-looking house.
"Quiet enough neighborhood," remarked Jack, as they got down, and Tom tipped the cabman for the benefit of any spies who might be looking.
"Yes, I guess we can get some sleep here, if the big gun doesn't keep us awake," agreed Tom.
On the way they had passed several places where the havoc of the "Bertha" was noticeable.
Tom and Jack seemed to be expected, for the porter, who came down to get their bags, did not seem at all surprised to see them. He bade them follow him, and a little later, the cab having chugged off, the boys were settled in a pleasant room, a smiling landlady coming in to see if they wanted anything, and to tell them they could have meals with her at certain hours, or they might dine out as they pleased.
"Your friends will be here shortly," she added.
"Our friends?" questioned Tom.