"You had better be careful, and had better explain everything fully. There is a very serious charge against you. We have heard from Berlin."
I jumped to the conclusion, not unnaturally, that the charge referred to my actions in regard to Althea, and I recognized its seriousness as fully as did the man questioning me. "I would rather not say anything until I get to Berlin."
"I'll give you one more chance. We have heard that an Englishman, Paul Bastable, is mysteriously missing from Berlin, and you Johann Spackmann, are found here under these suspicious circumstances wearing his clothes. Account for that if you can."
Instead of accounting for anything I burst out laughing. "You mean that the charge against me is that of having murdered myself?"
"You will find it no laughing matter," he said sternly.
"My good man, I am Paul Bastable. How the devil could I murder myself?"
"The papers upon you prove you to be Johann Spackmann."
An entirely convincing proof to the German official mind, this. "Then you'd better behead me as Spackmann for the murder of Bastable," I said with a shrug of indifference. "Only for Heaven's sake whatever you are going to do, do quickly."
The affair had turned to a farce although the police did not yet see it. They put their heads together and whispered in solemn conference.
"Look here," I broke in. "If it will cause you to send me at once to Berlin, I will confess to the murder of Paul Bastable. And when I do get there, you will receive such praise for your zeal and cleverness that you will remember it all your life."