at those maids were honest.
Then Jimmie had to come up and interfere, and those two men decided that
we had packed it.

Bee was in a cold ladylike fury.

We gave all the servants double fees to assure them that meanness had
not prompted the search, and got into the carriage.

"Remember," said Bee, "I claim that one of those women has that tie in
her pocket now, because all four of us looked every inch of the rooms
over together. I advise you to have them searched. On the other hand I
will telegraph you from Nuremberg if I find it in my trunks."

We had half an hour before the train left. Bee, who was riding backward,
kept looking out down the road whence we had come with a curious
expression on her face. Jimmie, in spite of warning pressures from his
wife's foot, kept sputtering about women's poor memories, etc. Bee
didn't even seem to hear.

Presently, in a cloud of dust, up drove one of the men from the hotel,
with a little package in his hand.

"_Blaue cravatte,_" he said, bowing.

"Where did you find it?" demanded Mrs. Jimmie.

"Between the mattress and the springs of the bed. Madame must have put
it there to press it."

Jimmie looked sheepish and put us into the train with a red face. Bee
simply slipped the tie into her satchel and put on her travelling-cap
without a word, and began to read. Bee never nags or crows.

So much for Baden-Baden.

CHAPTER IV

STUTTGART, NUREMBERG, AND BAYREUTH

We had planned to go to Stuttgart next, but as we were nearing the town,
Bee pushed up her veil and said:

"I don't see why we are going to Stuttgart. I never heard of it except
in connection with men who 'studied' in Stuttgart. What's there, Jimmie?
An Academy?"

"I should say," said Jimmie, waking up. "The Academy where Schiller
studied."

"That's very interesting," I broke in, "but it's hardly enough to keep
_me_ there very long. Are there any queer little places--"

"Any concert-gardens?" asked Bee.

"Are the hotels good?" asked his wife.

"There is one hotel called Hotel Billfinger, which I'd like to try,
because Mark Twain's guide in 'Innocents Abroad' was named Billfinger.
Remember?"

"He afterwards called him Ferguson, which I think is against the name
and against the hotel," I said. "Why do we stop except to break the
journey?"

"Well, the real reason," said Jimmie, with that timid air of his, "is
because Baedeker says that in the Royal Library there are 7,200 Bibles
in more than one