"To think that some of the smartest women in Paris come here!" he mused. Then to Tignol: "How about that telegram?"
The old man stroked his rough chin. "The clerk gave me a copy of it, all right, when I showed my papers. Here it is and—much good it will do us."
He handed M. Paul a telegraph blank on which was written:
DUBOIS, 20 Rue Chalgrin.
Special bivouac amateur bouillon danger must have Sahara easily Groener arms impossible.
FELIX.
"I see," nodded Coquenil; "it ought to be an easy cipher. We must look up Dubois," and he put the paper in his pocket. "Better go in now and locate this fellow. Look over the two courtyards, have a word with the doorkeepers, see if he really went into the hairdresser's; if not, find out where he did go. Tell our men at the other exits not to let a yellow dog slip past without sizing it up for Groener."
"I'll tell 'em," grinned the old man, and he slouched away.
For five minutes Coquenil waited at the Place de la Madeleine exit and it seemed a long time. Two ladies arrived in carriages and passed inside quickly with exaggerated self-possession. A couple came down the stairs smiling and separated coldly at the door. Then a man came out alone, and the detective's eyes bored into him. It wasn't Groener.
Finally, Tignol returned and reported all well at the other exits; no one had gone out who could possibly be the wood carver. Groener had not been near the hairdresser; he had gone straight through into the second courtyard, and from there he had hurried up the main stairway.