Roque had paid the waiter for the dinner service, and was placidly puffing a long, black cigar.
“We might take a stroll,” suggested Billy.
“Something like you did at Kiel?”
The secret agent seemed to have amused himself with this sly dig, but it was lost upon his young companions, who were working their wits to invent a getaway.
“How would you like to go to the theater?”
“Bully idea!” This was Billy’s vote.
“Fine!” echoed Henri.
As the three passed out of the café, the boys brushed against the very man with whom they were eager to speak.
Billy was inspired at the moment to distinctly address Herr Roque regarding their return journey to the air camp:
“What time to-morrow do we leave for Hamburg, sir?”