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Updated: June 17, 2025
Then, when Walker-Keefe lost their suit in the Valencia Supreme Court I guess Schnitzel went over to President Alvarez. And again, some folks say he's back with the Nitrate Company." "After he sold them out?" "Yes, but you see he's worth more to them now. He knows all the Walker-Keefe secrets and Alvarez's secrets, too." I expressed my opinion of every one concerned.
The gravy may be mussed up a trifle, but the old ring-general ain't lost an ounce. I fought him three rounds and didn't put a bruise on him." "Couldn't I bring you somethin' else?" said the waiter. "The Wiener Schnitzel with noodles is very " "Nix," said Scandalous; "if the cassowary licked us, what chance would we stand against the bison?
Schnitzel was smiling to himself with a smile of complete self-satisfaction. In the light of his later conduct, I grew to understand that smile. He had anticipated a rebuff, and he had been received, as he read it, with consideration. The irony of my politeness he had entirely missed. Instead, he read in what I said the admiration of the amateur for the professional.
When they go to the president's door, they got to knock, like I used to, but now, when the old man sees me coming to make my report after one of these trips he calls out, 'Come right in, Mr. Schnitzel. And like as not I go in with my hat on and offer him a cigar. An' they see me do it, too!" To me, that speech seemed to give Schnitzel's view of the values of his life.
As I watched the yellow wall sink into the sea, I became conscious that Schnitzel was near me, as before, leaning on the rail, with his chin sunk on his arms. His face was turned toward the fortress, and for the first time since I had known him it was set and serious. And when, a moment later, he passed me without recognition, I saw that his eyes were filled with fear.
Why don't you call yourself Machiavelli?" "Go on, I'm no dago," said Schnitzel, "and don't you go off thinking 'Jones' is the only disguise I use. But I'm not tellin' what it is, am I? Oh, no." "Schnitzel," I asked, "have you ever been told that you would make a great detective?" "Cut it out," said Schnitzel. "You've been reading those fairy stories.
"I don't take any chances," exclaimed the captain seriously. "When I'm in their damned port I don't go ashore." I did not again see Schnitzel until, with haggard eyes and suspiciously wet hair, he joined the captain, doctor, purser, and myself at breakfast.
The brasseries, where the best Munich or Pilsener beer, with wiener Schnitzel or leber-knoedel suppe could be obtained until the end of July, are invisible behind signless iron shutters.
"I saw you talking to Mr. Schnitzel," he said. "He's a little under the weather. He has too light a head for liquors." I agreed that he had a light head, and said I understood his name was Jones. "That's what I wanted to tell you," said the captain. "His name is Schnitzel. He used to work for the Nitrate Trust in New York. Then he came down here as an agent. He's a good boy not to tell things to.
In the evening I read my notes to Schnitzel, who, in a corner of the smoking-room, sat, frowning importantly, checking off each statement, and where I made an error of a date or a name, severely correcting me. Several times I asked him, "Are you sure this won't get you into trouble with your 'people'? You seem to accuse everybody on each side." Schnitzel's eyes instantly closed with suspicion.
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