“You’ll have to warn Prince Djaro, first chance you get. Then tomorrow come to the American Embassy. The castle may not be safe any longer. We’ll try to help Djaro if he’ll just let us, but we have to wait for a request from him.

“You’ve done fine so far — more than we dreamed you could. But from now on, be careful!”

THE THREE INVESTIGATORS spent the rest of the afternoon sightseeing. They visited some quaint old shops, and an interesting museum. Then they took a ride up the river on a small excursion steamer.

Rudy reported from time to time that they were still being followed. However, now it was by members of the Varanian secret service, really in the employ of Duke Stefan.

“Perhaps they are just looking after you,” Rudy said darkly, “but I doubt it. They are interested in you. And I wish I knew why.”

The boys wished they knew why, too. There didn’t seem any reason why anyone should be interested in them. They had done nothing yet, and certainly hadn’t been able to help Prince Djaro at all.

From time to time they passed small groups of people playing musical instruments on street corners.

“Minstrels,” Rudy told them. “All descendants of the family that sheltered Prince Paul many years ago. I, too, am one, though my father used to be prime minister until Duke Stefan discharged him. We are Prince Djaro’s most faithful subjects, for by Prince Paul’s decree we pay no taxes.

“We have formed a secret party opposed to Duke Stefan. We call ourselves the Minstrel Party, or just Minstrels. The people do not like Duke Stefan, I can tell you.”

Each time they passed a group of Minstrels, Rudy slowed the car slightly. Then, when one of the musicians gave him a slight nod, he speeded up again.

“Two can play at this game,” he muttered. “We are watching those who watch you. We shall be keeping an eye on you at all times. We have our people in the palace, too, even in the Royal Guard. We know much. But we do not know why you have become so important to them. I suspect a plot of some kind, and Duke Stefan’s plots are apt to be very nasty ones.”

They kept on sightseeing, and gradually forgot about the shadowers. They rode on a majestic merry-go-round in the park, and ate dinner at an outdoor restaurant that specialized in fine fish from the river.

They rode back to the castle rather tired, but feeling full and comfortable.

The Royal Chamberlain, a rotund little man in a scarlet robe, hurried up to greet them.

“Good evening, young gentlemen,” he said. “Prince Djaro is sorry he cannot see you tonight but will breakfast with you in the morning again. I shall lead you to your room, for I fear you cannot find it by yourselves.”

He led them up a bewildering succession of stairs and halls, past many footmen, to their room. As soon as they entered he scurried away, as if on some important errand.

They closed the stout oak door and looked around the room. It had been tidied up and their bed made, but their suitcases were where they had left them. Bob noticed that the big spider web was still in place in the corner by the head of the bed. A large black and gold spider scurried for cover as they came in, and hid in the small crack between floor and wainscoting.

Bob grinned. By now he had accepted the fact that spiders were practically sacred in Varania, and had decided they were even rather handsome when you examined them closely.

“Nothing new has happened,” Jupiter said, “but I think we’d better contact Mr. Young. He might have some instructions. As a precaution, Pete, you might lock the door.”

Pete turned the lock on the door. Jupiter unslung his camera, and pushed the sending lever.

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

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

“Nothing special,” Jupiter said. “We went sightseeing. But we were followed all day by Duke Stefan’s secret service.”

“He’s worried about you,” Bert Young said thoughtfully. “Have you spoken to Djaro yet? How did he take the news?”

“We haven’t been able to see him. The Royal Chamberlain said he couldn’t see us until morning.”

“Hmm.” Over the radio they could almost hear Bert Young thinking. “I wonder if they are keeping him away from you on purpose. It’s vitally important that you see him in the morning and tell him. Now take that tape out of the camera and put it in your pocket. I want you to bring it to me tomorrow here at the Embassy. Just leave as if you’re sightseeing and have your driver bring you here. Things are apt to get hot from now on. Understand?”

“Yes, sir,” Jupe answered.

“We’re still trying to figure out how to help Prince Djaro. Duke Stefan has such tight control over the radio, the newspapers, and television, we can’t reach the people that way. But we’ll figure something. So as of tomorrow you’re relieved from duty.”

“Yes, sir,” Jupiter agreed. “Over and out.”

He turned off the transmitter switch, opened the bottom of the camera, and took out a tiny spool of tape.

“Here, Pete,” he said, “you carry this. Don’t let anyone get it away from you.”

“Right,” Pete said and put the tape in an inside pocket.

While Jupe was talking to Bert Young, Bob had been rummaging in a drawer of the big wardrobe for a handkerchief. He found his handkerchiefs where he had put them, but as he pulled one out he heard a small clinking sound. Curious, he felt to see what caused it. There was something heavy and metallic hidden under his handkerchiefs. He pulled it out, stared at it and gave a yell.

“Jupe! Pete! Look!”

They turned in surprise.

“A spider!” Pete gulped. “Drop it!”

“It’s harmless,” Jupiter said. “It’s a Prince Paul spider. Put it on the floor, Bob.”

“You don’t understand!” Bob exclaimed. “It’s not a spider. It’s the spider!”

“The spider?” Pete repeated. “What do you mean?”

“The silver spider of Varania,” Bob told him. “The one that’s missing from the jewel vault. It has to be. It’s so perfect you thought it was real, but it isn’t. It’s made of metal. Like the one we saw, only better.”

Jupiter walked over and touched the jeweled spider. “You’re right,” he said. “That’s a masterpiece. It just has to be the real thing. Where did you find it?”

“Under my handkerchiefs. Someone hid it there. It wasn’t there this morning, I know.”

Jupe’s brow furrowed. He was thinking hard.

“Why would anyone hide the silver spider of Varania in our room?” he asked, mostly to himself. “It doesn’t make sense, unless someone planned to accuse us of stealing it. In that case — ”

“What shall we do, Jupe?” Pete asked anxiously. “Why, it’s the death penalty just to be caught with that spider!”

“I think — ” Jupe began. But they had no chance to find out what he thought. Down the hall outside their room came the tramp of heavy feet. There was a loud knock on the door, then someone tried the knob. An angry voice cried, “Open the door in the name of the Regent! Open for the law.”

After a startled second, Jupiter and Pete flung themselves at the door and slammed into place a big iron bolt.

Bob, too surprised to think clearly, just stood with the silver spider of Varania in his hand, wondering dizzily what to do with it.