"You're an American, aren't you?" called Dave, over his shoulder.
"Yes," answered he of the gray suit, "and in official life at Washington, too. That scoundrel has robbed me of something of value to the United States government."
That was enough for Darrin and Dalzell. Though the charge might prove to be false, it was enough to cancel Dave's scruples against fighting.
Out into the street ahead of them ran a waiter, who had taken no part in the scrimmage, waving his arms and shouting:
"Esta dirección!" ("This way!")
"Sigue andando!" ("Keep right on!") roared Danny Grin, darting down the street at a hard pace.
But a moment later both naval officers, followed by the young man in gray and the waiter, came to a halt, for, directly ahead of them, on the well-lighted street, suddenly appeared a patrol detachment of the British provost guard.
"Did you stop the fellow who ran this way, sir?" hailed Ensign Darrin, as he recognized the uniform of the British infantry officer in command of the detachment.
"We didn't see any man running this way," replied the British lieutenant, smartly returning the salute that Ensign Darrin had given him.
"Didn't see any fellow running?" repeated three Americans, in tones of bewilderment.