"
"I've grown up with horses. It's my business to know everything about
them, and maybe your trade before the war didn't bring you near them."
Scheller threw back his great head and laughed.
"If a horse had approached where I worked," he said, "much good beer
would have been spilt. I was the head waiter in a restaurant on the
Unter den Linden. Ah, the happy days! Oh, the glorious street! and here
it's nothing but march, march, and shoot, shoot! Three of my best
waiters have been killed already. And the other lads are no horsemen
either. That big Fritz over there made toys, Joseph drove a taxicab,
August was conductor on a train to Charlottenberg, and Eitel was porter
in a hotel. We're all from Berlin, and will you tell us, Castel, how
soon we can take Paris and London and go back to the Unter den Linden?"
John shook his head.
"There are about fifteen hundred million people in the world who are
asking that question, Otto Scheller," he replied, "and out of all the
fifteen hundred millions not one can answer it. But I will ask you a
question in return."
"What is it?"
"Will you give me a ride in one of your wagons to Metz?"
"Why, certainly," replied Scheller. "Your passport is in good order, and
we can take you to the first line of fortifications. There you'll meet
high officers and you'll have to make more statements, because Metz, as
you know, is one of the most powerful fortresses in Europe.
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