"What are you, anyway, Renoux?" asked Barres, still astonished at the encounter, but immensely interested.
"My friend, you have already guessed. I am Captain: Military Intelligence Department. You know? There are no longer architects or butchers or bakers in France, only soldiers. And of those soldiers I am a very humble one."
"I need not ask an old Beaux Arts comrade to be discreet and loyal."
"My dear fellow, France is next in my heart after my own country. Tell me, you are following that Irishman, Soane, and his boche friend, Max Freund, are you not?"
"It happens to be as you say," admitted Renoux, smilingly. "A job for a 'flic,' is it not?"
"Shall I tell you what I know about those two men?--what I suspect?"
"I should be very glad----" But at that moment Soane came out of the saloon across the way, and Freund followed.
"If you care to. Yes, come," nodded Renoux, keeping his clear, intelligent eyes on the two across the street, who now stood under a lamp-post, engaged in some sort of drunken altercation.
Renoux, watching them all the while, continued in a low voice:
"Remember, Barres, if we chance to meet again here in America, I am merely Georges Renoux, an architect and a fellow Beaux Arts man."
"Certainly.... Look! They're starting on, those two!"
Soane, unsteady of leg and talkative, was now making for Third Avenue beside Freund, who had taken him by the arm, in hopes, apparently, of steadying them both.
As Renoux and Barres followed, the latter cautiously requested any instructions which Renoux might think fit to give.
Renoux said in his cool, agreeable voice:
"You know it's rather unusual for an officer to bother personally with this sort of thing. But my people--even the renegade Germans in our service--have been unable to obtain necessary information for us in regard to Grogan's.
"It happened this afternoon that certain information was brought to me which suggested that I myself take a look at Grogan's. And that is what I was going to do when I saw you on the street, carefully stalking two well-known suspects."
Grogan's was now in sight on the corner, its cherrywood magnificence and its bilious imitation of stained glass aglow with electricity. And into its "Family Entrance" swaggered Soane, followed by the lank figure of Max Freund.