"A matter of a league or two. I hear they're making these new aeroplanes there. Got a job there?"
"Shan't know till I get to Lingen; have another little matter to see to first, anyway."
"A good few people have little matters to see to there, these days," he replied drily, with a suggestive glance out of the corner of his eye. "I live there, and you can take it from me that if you're any good at your job, there's plenty of work waiting for you."
"Government work?"
"If they weren't all blind, yes;" and he launched into a description of the extreme difficulty of getting repairs done. "Can't get so much as a screw driven in without one of their infernal permits. I've been to Osnabrück about it now trying to get a man. Might as well have asked for the moon!" he said disgustedly, and went on grumbling about it, at intervals, for the rest of the journey.
When we reached Lingen he said he'd like to have a chat with me and suggested we should go to his shop. "Won't do you any harm to be seen with me, either; I'm well known; and what with escaped prisoners and our skulkers trying to jump the frontier, the police are pretty curious about strangers of your age and build especially."
He was well known, as he had said. Several people nodded to him on the platform, and one man came after him. "Good-day, Father Fischer, can I have a word with you?" and they stopped to talk together.
"Hear that, Nessa?" I asked excitedly. "By Jove, we're in luck if it's our man!" and when he rejoined us I asked him if he was Adolf Fischer.
"I am. Every one in Lingen knows Adolf Fischer."
"Have you a brother out Massen way?"