"So, it is evident," concluded Sam, "that each night some one in the service of the Times dined at Pavoni's, and that his hat was the same sort of hat as the one worn by Hertz; and each night, inside the lining of his hat, Hertz hid the report of that day's proceedings. And when the Times man left the restaurant he exchanged hats with Hertz. But to-night—I got Hertz's hat and with it the treaty!"
In perplexity the blue eyes of the little great man frowned.
"It is a remarkable story," he said.
"You mean you don't believe me!" retorted Sam. "If I had financial standing—if I had credit—if I were not a stranger—you would not hesitate."
Baron Haussmann neither agreed nor contradicted. He made a polite and deprecatory gesture. Still in doubt, he stared at the piece of white paper. Still deep in thought, he twisted and creased between his fingers the Treaty of London!
Returning with the duchess from supper, Polly caught sight of Sam and, with a happy laugh, ran toward him. Seeing he was not alone, she halted and waved her hand.
"Don't forget!" she called. "At eleven!"
She made a sweet and lovely picture. Sam rose and bowed.
"I'll be there at ten," he answered.
With his mild blue eyes the baron followed Polly until she had disappeared. Then he turned and smiled at Sam.