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Updated: May 22, 2025
The short German had worked himself up into an irritable state. He led the way about the arrangements for dining, his tall friend all the while mildly attempting to soothe his ruffled feelings. Furstenheimer, appearing much crest-fallen, meekly followed their wishes. A private room must be had, the dealer announced. They took a detached one with the door opening out toward the highway.
They went on to Aix in a compartment full of militaires. The countryside, swimming in the sunlight, lay tidy and dimpling in the gentle arms of a peace and prosperity that made the newspaper talk of a campaign seem unreal and preposterous. Furstenheimer appeared to have only the interests of a small land-holder, and gossiped about his farm, his horses and prices.
Would not a stroll in the environs be meanwhile a suitable diversion? out toward the attractive Lousberg and its belvedere? Herr Furstenheimer had indicated an inquiry to Kirtley as to whether he would like to join the other two. Upon his signifying affirmatively, the four walked northward. The flat face of one of the young men Gard fancied he had seen before.
They finally introduced themselves. Herr Furstenheimer of Wuerttemberg a farmer. Gard concluded he did not dislike Germans of the south. Their temperaments, voices, manners, are somewhat softer than those of the north. "I haven't been in Cologne in twenty years," Furstenheimer explained. "Just stopped off. I wonder if you I see you too are a tourist happen to be going my way.
Then he walked as fast as he could. He was more and more convinced that those Germans would count on his going back for his belongings. They would not imagine that a dollar American would leave his possessions and hoof it to the Dutch Limberg on a night like this. His brain was on fire. He thought of everything. Furstenheimer had been a trailing sleuth. He had fooled Kirtley completely.
He wished his foolish friend from Wuerttemberg had kept out of it. They were here on the edge of a strange city, in an unknown inn, at nightfall. It showed that Furstenheimer was a green country man who, as he admitted, had seldom been away from home. He had not even seen his neighboring Rhine in years. The rain was now pelting them and they scurried indoors.
He could discover no loophole where any unflattering dullness on his part was particularly at fault. He had made rather the most advances at Cologne to the self-styled Furstenheimer with his Roman horse. How casually, too, the two confederates had been picked up at the cathedral! Their intelligent interest in stained glass! Very clever. All had been wonderfully clever.
The cathedral acquaintances took one side of a table under the branches, and the companionable Furstenheimer with Gard faced them. With the beer they began comparing the parts of the world they hailed from. Kirtley belonged to that distant land America! Incredible! He had traveled so far. It was a country the two newcomers wished to visit.
He was not apparently concerned about the war excitement. Agriculture in Wuerttemberg was more important. Like most Germans, whether there was war or no war, seemed much the same thing with him. Either must be taken naturally and philosophically like a state of Nature. Furstenheimer was not fond of being away from home.
He now saw that when Furstenheimer left him at Cologne to decide about joining him, and also when the three had gone off to inspect the windows, there had been ample time to perfect their scheme. His passport! What on earth could they want of that! In the German way they had used a steam hammer to crack a hickory nut.
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