“Just a moment,” the Major interrupted. “Permit 247me first to introduce one of these gentlemen. Count von Herzmann, this is Lieutenant Richard Larkin, whose uniform you are now wearing and whose identification card you hold in your hand. I am sure you are glad to meet him.”
For the briefest moment von Herzmann’s mouth dropped open. He knew the jig was up! Almost immediately, however, he regained the debonair, easy grace of a splendidly poised loser. He bowed to Larkin, who stood with mouth agape and eyes popping out.
“I am indebted to Lieutenant Larkin for the use of his uniform,” von Herzmann said. “I regret that it will probably be returned to him with bullet holes in it. Oh, well–such is war, eh? Perhaps he can find some satisfaction in keeping it as a souvenir. He can point to the holes and say, ‘Count von Herzmann, the German ace and spy, was just behind these holes.’”
Every man in the room felt awed and a trifle uneasy. Here was a man whose cool courage they could envy. Not every man can face death with so grim a jest.
“However,” von Herzmann turned to Cowan, “it gives me pleasure to report that I foresaw the possibility of this very thing and so arranged matters that a certain Mr. Schwarz, whom you call Siddons, will be shot five days from now.”
248“What!” Cowan stormed. He wheeled to the sergeant. “Sergeant, where did this man–”
“The sergeant doesn’t know,” von Herzmann put in. “He is the third man in whose charge I have been placed. Perhaps you had better let me tell you, Major. Your planes are quite wretched and inferior, sir, and when the engine of the one I was making use of died suddenly, we were forced to land quickly and take what the Fates had in store. We struck an old shell hole, turned over, and my pilot was killed, poor fellow! Too bad it wasn’t the other way round. He wore his own uniform, and could hardly have been shot as a spy.”
Cowan sank into a chair, rather heavily. His poise was no match for von Herzmann’s, who seemed to be getting a keen delight out of the Major’s discomfiture.
“I was not at the controls,” von Herzmann continued, “but the engine sputtered as though it were out of fuel.”
Major Cowan nodded his head sadly. “It was. Poor Siddons was right,” he mused, seemingly unconscious for the moment of the presence of the others.