The second buried his nose in a foaming tankard.
‘Is it for to-morrow morning?’ asked Rex calmly.
‘Palmengarten, back entrance, four sharp.’
‘What do you mean?’ asked Greif. ‘Are we to fight in the Palmengarten, in the restaurant?’
The second nodded, and lighted his pipe.
‘Poetic,’ he observed. ‘Marble floor—fountain playing—palm trees in background.’ ‘Then we must go there at that hour so as not to be seen?’
‘The Poodle thinks it is at Schneckenwinkel, and is going out by the early train to lie in wait,’ chuckled the burly student.
‘There he will sit all the morning like a sparrow limed on a twig.’
‘Have we any other pairs?’ asked Greif absently.
‘Three others. Two foxes and Hollenstein. He is gone to bed and I am going to send the foxes after him. We can make a night of it, if you like.’