"Now, Karl," said the consul cheerfully, as the door of his private
office closed upon them, "what is your little game? Have you EVER had
any papers? And if you were clever enough to study the map of New York
State, why weren't you clever enough to see that it wouldn't stand you
in place of your papers?"
"Dot's joost it," said Karl in English; "but you see dot if I haf
declairet mine intention of begomming a citizen, it's all the same,
don't it?"
"By no means, for you seem to have no evidence of the DECLARATION; no
papers at all."
"Zo!" said Karl. Nevertheless, he pushed his small, rosy,
pickled-pig's-feet of fingers through his fleecy curls and beamed
pleasantly at the consul. "Dot's vot's der matter," he said, as if
taking a kindly interest in some private trouble of the consul's. "Dot's
vere you vos, eh?"
The consul looked steadily at him for a moment. Such stupidity was by
no means phenomenal, nor at all inconsistent with his appearance. "And,"
continued the consul gravely, "I must tell you that, unless you have
other proofs than you have shown, it will be my duty to give you up to
the authorities."
"Dot means I shall serve my time, eh?" said Karl, with an unchanged
smile.
"Exactly so," returned the consul.
"Zo!" said karl. "Dese town--dose Schlachtstadt--is fine town, eh? Fine
vomens. Goot men. Und beer und sausage. Blenty to eat and drink, eh?
Und," looking around the room, "you and te poys haf a gay times."
"Yes," said the consul shortly, turning away. But he presently faced
round again on the unfettered Karl, who was evidently indulging in a
gormandizing reverie.
"What on earth brought you here, anyway?"
"Was it das?"
"What brought you here from America, or wherever you ran away from?"
"To see der, volks."
"But you are an ORPHAN, you know, and you have no folks living here."
"But all Shermany is mine volks,--de whole gountry, don't it? Pet your
poots! How's dot, eh?"
The consul turned back to his desk and wrote a short note to General
Adlerkreutz in his own American German. He did not think it his duty
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