"And your mother will be back in September? Where is she at present?"
"She—she is north; she isn't very well, and—" But he could not think of anything that he could safely add, so he stopped.
"We haven't any places for boys. Did you expect me to take you in here?"
"No, sir. I thought perhaps you'd recommend me."
"On general principles, I suppose, as an American, seeing that I don't know anything else about you. And you selected the Fourth as a nice, good, patriotic day for it?"
"The Fourth?"
"I suppose you know what day it is?"
"Yes, sir—Tuesday."
The consul looked at him, and saw that he spoke in good faith. "You an American boy? I guess not! You may go." And dipping his pen in the ink, he resumed his writing.
Maso, though disturbed and bewildered, held his ground. He certainly was an American boy. What could the man mean?