"A fine place, Munich," said John. "In my dealing in horses I've been there more than once. Do you remember the Wittelsbach Fountain in the Maximilienplatz?"
"Aye, and a cooling sight it is on a warm day."
"And the green Isar flowing through the Englischer Gardens!"
"And the ducks swimming down to the edge of the little falls, swimming so close that you think they're going over and then swimming away again."
"Yes, I've seen them, and once I went into the gallery and saw the strange pictures they called Futurist, which I think represent the bad dreams of painters who have gone to bed drunk."
"You're a man of sense, you Castel, even if you do have a French name. I went in there myself once, and then I hurried away to the Hofbrau and drank all the beer I could that I might forget it."
John laughed, and Fritz laughed with him.
"How far do you go?" asked John.
"Only to Stuttgart. I wish it was Munich. Then I might see Minna again before returning to the war."
But they had a placid journey to Stuttgart, sleeping by the way in the wagon. Arriving in the city John paid Fritz for his ride and parted from him with regret. He spent a night here in a humble inn, and discovered that Auersperg and his party were now two days ahead of him. The automobiles were moving with speed, and John surmised that the prince did not intend to remain long at his castle over the Austrian border. Perhaps he would have to return to the war, leaving Julie and Suzanne there. He hoped so.