“Oh! I wonder if they have everybody on a war ration in London!” he exclaimed. “It must be terrible to feel as empty as I do now, and then find you’re limited to a couple of thin slices of war bread, without butter, a cup of weak tea, and some stewed prunes—I just hate prunes, you remember, Tom!”
Tom only laughed at him.
“Humbug, Jack! You’ll find that even over in Berlin, where the pinch is a heap stronger than in London, the man who has the price can get plenty of food. We’re going to have some mutton chops for dinner, and plenty of other good things in the bargain. As for a drink, I prefer coffee, even at a shilling a cup.”
It turned out exactly as Tom had said. They went to a restaurant where foreigners still congregated, and were able to order a plentiful and satisfying meal; though certain articles usually on the bill of fare seemed to be tabooed on that particular day, and prices were certainly very high.
Jack, his fears set at rest, was soon feeling much better, both in body and mind, so that he was able to sit and look around at the other guests with some degree of curiosity.
“Wouldn’t it be strange now,” he remarked between bites, “if Carl Potzfeldt and pretty Bessie Gleason should drop in here while we were eating?”
“I hardly think that is likely to happen,” Tom replied. “Still, I can’t seem to get it out of my mind that that man at the corner table, who keeps his face hidden behind his newspaper has a familiar look. Adolph Tuessig is, we believe, in London, and he has to eat just the same as we do.”
“Suppose we hurry along then with our meal, Tom, and when that fellow starts to pass out we can manage in some way to jostle him, so as to get a look at his face. Of course we couldn’t have him arrested, or anything like that; but I’d like to know from curiosity if nothing else, whether he was aboard our steamer.”
“Agreed,” Tom replied, hurrying his eating, while he kept one eye on the table in the corner where the man under suspicion sat, his face concealed behind a copy of an evening paper.
“I wonder whether we’ll keep on running across that Tuessig when we get over there in France,” continued Jack, as though the idea disturbed him somewhat.