"Well, well!" Guest said, "we are not inquisitive—my nephew and I. Can one see the room?"
Karl shook his head.
"Not at present," he answered. "Mr. Kauffman has a key, but he is gone."
"Ah, well!" Guest remarked, "another time. The bill, Karl! For this morning I shall call myself a guest. This afternoon we will take possession—my nephew and I!"
CHAPTER XXX
THE "WAITERS' UNION"
Guest and I had taken small rooms not a hundred yards from the Café Suisse, as the restaurant was called. We made our way there immediately after we had settled with our friend Karl, and Guest locked the door of our tiny sitting-room behind us. He first of all walked round the room and felt the wall carefully. Then he seated himself in front of the table and motioned me to draw my chair up almost to his side.
"My young friend," he said, "we have now reached the most difficult part of our enterprise. For several days we have not spoken together confidentially. I have not even told you the little I was able to discover in Hamburg. Shall I go on?"
"Of course," I answered.
"Take off your gloves," Guest said. "You cannot wear them in the restaurant. Good! Now, first of all, have you seen the morning papers?"