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"And it seems to me that I shall not need that cheque-book. Herr Bettermann, I am very sure you have not forgotten the name of that officer." "Forgotten!" said the other. "No, I've not forgotten. And, so that you shan't forget, I've got it written down for you!" He fished a card from the breast-pocket of his blue shirt. The Baron received it, and held it up to the light.
Herr Bettermann, the young man with the scar, walked across to it. At first glimpse, it had drawn all their eyes; each felt that here, properly and decently screened, was the core of the affair. It was right that it should be covered up and revealed only at the due moment; yet Bettermann went to it and jerked the black cloth off, raping the mystery of the thing as crudely as a Prussian in Belgium.
Herr Haase picked up the empty suit-case, stood aside to let Von Wetten pass, and brought up the rear of the procession. At the foot of the wooden steps that led up to the veranda, the Baron halted and turned to Bettermann. "One thing makes me curious," he said. "Suppose we had not accepted your terms, what would you have done? Sold your machine to our enemies?"
Herr Haase smiled deferentially, and eased himself into the background by the parapet. "And now," said the Baron, "to our fireworks!" Herr Bettermann answered with the scowl-like contraction of the brows which he used in place of a nod. "All right," he said. "Stand away from the front of the thing, will you? You know yourselves the kind of stuff you've buried yes? Also, los!"
Just inform whoever is in charge that I will come later. And, Von Wetten, I think we will send the car with a note to bring Herr Bettermann here at the same time." "Here, Excellency?" "Yes," said the Baron. "After all, we want to keep the thing as quiet as possible, and that fellow is capable of asking a party of friends to witness the ceremony."
He turned now to Bettermann. "But certainly," he answered. He slapped the ivory paper-knife against his palm. "I was not withdrawing from the bargain.
So that he did not see the entry at that moment of the man who came from the balcony, walking noiselessly upon rubber-soled tennis-shoes. He heard Von Wetten's "Good afternoon, Herr Bettermann," and straightened up quickly to be introduced.
Bettermann, doubled up in his low chair, broke in abruptly: "Yes, I insist!" The Baron smiled his elderly, temperate smile. "So be it," he said. "Well, my good Haase, what have you to tell us?" Herr Haase brought his heels together, dropped his thumbs to the seams of his best trousers, threw up his chin, and barked: "Your Excellency, I have seen the Herr Colonel Graf von Specht.
Presently, with a shrug as though he withdrew himself unwillingly from some train of thought, the Baron turned. "Yes," he said, slowly, half to himself. "Y-es!" He lifted his eyes to the inventor. "Well, we have only three things to do," he said. "They should not take us long. But it is pleasant here in your garden, Herr Bettermann, and we might sit down while we do them."
"There are severe penalties prescribed for such actions. But, in the army, in the daily give-and-take of the life of a regiment, of course, they do happen. Herr Bettermann," very stiffly, "was unfortunate." Betterman was staring at him, but said nothing. The Baron glanced from Von Wetten to the lean young man and shook his head. "I am beginning I think I am beginning to see," he said.
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