"I believe it's about time I interfered with the politics of this
Republic," he said, at last, as he closed the lid of the metal box and
restored it to his pocket. "If I don't take a hand there probably
won't be a Republic of France very long and, as a good American, I
prefer a republic to a monarchy."
Then he walked down-stairs and found his English-speaking waiter.
"Where's President Loubet?" he asked.
"Ze President! Ah, he is wiz his mansion. To be at his
residence, M'sieur."
"Where is his residence?"
The waiter began a series of voluble and explicit directions which so
confused the boy that he exclaimed:
"Oh, much obliged!" and walked away in disgust.
Gaining the street he approached a gendarme and repeated his question,
with no better result than before, for the fellow waved his arms
wildly in all directions and roared a volley of incomprehensible
French phrases that conveyed no meaning whatever.
"If ever I travel in foreign countries again," said Rob, "I'll learn
their lingo in advance. Why doesn't the Demon get up a conversation
machine that will speak all languages?"
By dint of much inquiry, however, and after walking several miles
following ambiguous directions, he managed to reach the residence of
President Loubet.
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