The boys each made a wish and released their balloons. They watched them till they were tiny dots in the sky. Then they strolled over to a space where a number of tables with checkered red cloths stood on the grass. They sat down at one and a waiter with a handlebar mustache hurried over and said, “Ice cream? Maybe hot chocolate? Sandwiches?”

They nodded, and the waiter bustled off. Looking around, they saw a man and a woman buying balloons. Bob recognized them as the same couple who had stood behind them looking at the portrait of Prince Paul that morning. And he felt sure it was they who had been doing the following.

Slowly, the two strolled over and selected the table next to the boys. They ordered ice cream and coffee, then leaned back and smiled at Pete, Bob and Jupiter.

“Aren’t you boys Americans?” the woman asked, in a rather husky voice.

“Yes, ma’am,” Jupiter answered. “Are you Americans, too?”

“We certainly are,” the woman said. “From California, just like you.”

Jupe stiffened. How did the couple know they were from California? The man said quickly, “You are from California, aren’t you? Anyway, you’re wearing California-style sport shirts.”

“Yes, sir,” Jupiter said, “We’re from California. We just arrived last night.”

“We saw you this morning in the relic room at the castle,” the woman said. “Dear me, wasn’t that Prince Djaro himself who was with you?”

Jupiter nodded. “Yes, he was showing us around.” Then he turned to Bob and Pete. “I think we ought to wash up before the waiter brings our lunch,” he said.

“I saw a sign pointing to the washroom, over beyond the tumblers.”

He turned to the couple at the next table.

“We’re going to wash up,” he told them. “I wonder if you’d watch our cameras for us while we’re gone.”

“Sure thing, sonny.” The man gave him a big smile. “Don’t worry, we won’t let them get stolen.”

“Thank you, sir.” Jupiter rose, not giving Bob or Pete a chance to say anything, and started off in the direction of the washroom. The other two hastily followed him.

“What’s the idea, Jupe?” Pete whispered as they caught up with him. “Why go off and leave our cameras?”

“Sssh!” Jupe cautioned. “I have an idea. Just come along.”

They passed close to the girl selling balloons, and without pausing Jupiter said softly: “Please watch the man and woman. If they touch our cameras, let us know. We’ll be back in a minute.”

She nodded, and The Three Investigators sauntered on as if they were ordinary, carefree sightseers.

The washroom was a stone building inconspicuously placed in a grove of trees. They found themselves alone inside and Pete burst out, “What’s your idea, Jupe?”

“Those two,” Jupiter told him, turning on a faucet. “They may talk while we’re away. They may let something slip.”

“But what good will that do us?” Bob asked, joining him in washing his hands.

“I left the tape recorder inside my camera going,” Jupe told him. “It’s very sensitive. It’ll pick up anything they say. Now we better not talk any more. Someone might overhear us.”

They finished washing up in silence, then walked slowly back to their table. As they passed the balloon seller, she shook her head once. Apparently nothing had happened while they were gone. Their cameras were still on the table, and the man and woman were sipping coffee.

“Nobody tried to bother your cameras, boys,” the man said genially. “This is a very honest country. The waiter brought your order, but we told him you’d be gone for a minute. Ah, here he comes now.”

The waiter approached with a loaded tray, and set down sandwiches, hot chocolate and ice cream. Realizing they wouldn’t have any other lunch, the trio ate hungrily. After a few minutes the man and woman at the next table finished, said good-bye, and walked away.

“If they intended to talk to us, they changed their minds,” Pete remarked.

“I’m hoping they talked to each other,” Jupiter said. He touched a tiny button on his camera. This rewound the tape in the tape recorder, and at the touch of another button the tape began to play. At first there were just faint hisses. Then the man’s voice spoke. Bob jumped with excitement.

“It worked!” he exclaimed. “Just as you figured, Jupe.”

“Sssh!” Jupe quieted him. “Let’s listen to what was said. Keep on eating. Don’t look at the camera.”

He rewound the tape and started it over again, adjusting the volume control lever so the voices could not be heard even at the next table.

They heard the following conversation:

Man: “I think Freddie sent us on a wild goose chase. If those three kids are investigators I’ll eat my hat.”

Woman: “Freddie isn’t wrong very often. He said those are three smart boys. He’s checked up on them. Call themselves The Three Investigators.”

Man: “Just playacting! You can’t tell me they ever solved anything except by dumb luck. Why, if I ever saw a stupid-looking kid, it’s that fat one.” (At this Pete and Bob suppressed chuckles with difficulty. Jupe had been trying to look stupid, but even so he didn’t much care for the comment.)

Woman: “Just the same, Freddie said to follow them and see if they contact anyone. He thinks they’re working with the CIA.”

Man: “They don’t know anything to tell anybody. They’re just wandering around like any kids. Let someone else follow them.”

Woman: “You aren’t going to try to talk them into persuading the prince to go along with Duke Stefan’s plans?”

Man: “No, I don’t think that’s a good idea. I think the only thing to do is what Freddie’s been for all along. Throw the prince out, and get Duke Stefan made permanent Regent. Then, through our hold on Stefan, our syndicate and Roberto’s will be the actual rulers of this country.”

Woman: “You’d better lower your voice. Someone might hear you.”

Man: “There’s no one around to hear. I tell you, Mabel, this is the most perfect setup anyone ever dreamed of. Once we take over, with Duke Stefan acting as front for us, we’ll really cut loose. Did you ever stop to think what you could do if you owned your own country?”

Woman: “Gambling, you said. We’ll make this country bigger than Monte Carlo for that.”

Man: “Yes. Then there’s banking. We’ll offer safe banking privileges for people in the States who want to hide money where the government can’t find it. But that’s only the beginning. We’ll repeal all extradition laws. That means other governments won’t be able to arrest criminals who take refuge here. Anybody wanted for anything anywhere in the world will be safe here — as long as he can pay our price. Varania will be heaven for crooks on the run.”

Woman: “It sounds perfect. But what if Duke Stefan doesn’t go along with our plans?”

Man: “He has to, if he wants to stay in power. We’ve got the goods on him. Oh, I tell you, Varania is a sweet, juicy pear and all we have to do is pick it.”

Woman: “Sssh! Here they come back.”

The tape went dead. Jupiter casually turned the camera around, in doing so switching off the tape and rewinding it.

“Golly!” Pete said. “It’s as bad as Bert Young feared. Worse! They plan to turn this whole country into a crooks’ paradise.”

“We’ve got to tell Bert Young!” Bob exclaimed.

Jupiter frowned. “I think we should,” he said. “I’d like to play him the whole tape, but that would take too long. Someone might notice. We’ll give him the gist of it, though.”

He picked up the camera and pretended to be changing the film. He switched on the transmitting lever and spoke softly.

“First reporting,” he said. “Can you read me?”

“Loud and clear,” Bert Young’s voice came back. “New developments?”

Jupiter told him what had happened, as briefly as he could.

“That’s bad,” Bert Young said when he had finished. “The man and woman you describe sound like Max Grogan, a gambler from Nevada, and his wife. They’re part of a big crime syndicate in the States. The Freddie and Roberto they mentioned must be Freddie ‘Fingers’ McGraw and Roberto Roulette, both of them big-time gamblers. This whole thing is far bigger than we dreamed — nothing less than an attempt by crooks to take over the kingdom of Varania.