Smith, who came in very much excited. Sniffling and rubbing his nose
with the back of his forefinger, like a nervous cocaine fiend, he
broke out agitatedly:

"Mr. Rebener, I'm getting sick of this job. When I undertook to find
out for you what was going on at the Little Place in the Country, I
was working for Germany as against the world, and anything that I can
do for her I am glad and proud to do, but that Hottenroth talks like a
damn fool. Excuse me, Mr. Rebener, but he don't want to stop at
anything. He says that if he pulls off this thing the Emperor, when he
gets to London, will make him Duke of Westminster, or something, and
six months from now he will appoint me Governor-General of North
America. I tell you, Mr. Rebener, that fellow is plumb nutty."

"Pardon me, Mr. Rebener," interposed the proprietor, "it is true that
Hottenroth is excitable, but he is faithful to the Fatherland and an
humble servant to His Imperial Majesty. He has been in charge of a
fixed post in London for fifteen years. He was one of the very first
to be sent here, and he was in Paris before that. He would die
willingly for the Fatherland, as would I, and if this Schmidt, I mean
Smith, thinks there is any sin too great to be committed for the
Fatherland, he is not worthy of a place among us, and the sooner we
get rid of him the better." And he looked at the unfortunate Smith in
a way that showed he was willing to do this at any moment.

But Rebener, who had lived all his life in America, and like Smith did
not thoroughly agree with the philosophy of German militarism--before
which everything must bow--hurriedly raised his hand.

"Come, come, you are both getting unnecessarily excited. Don't let us