Of course, he understood the first and last parts and the old boy stood still in his amazement, for that “J. P. Morgan” and my connection therewith had simply hypnotized him. Suddenly he became cordial to the extreme. After blushing in honest modesty I got down to business.
“You’ve been in America long enough to know what notes are, haven’t you? If you give your note it’s as good as gold, any time, any place, any where.”
“Ja,” he affirmed, nodding his head. “I know that.”
“Well,” I went on, “all that is necessary is a little cash consideration given with a note and it is good. Just like a contract.”
He agreed perfectly.
“Well,” I said, feeling like a street-corner politician, “name your own price.”
After considerable hemming and hawing around about it, he surprised me by naming five thousand marks, which then was about one thousand dollars, one hundred marks to be in cash, and my note for the remainder.
He agreed to buy me a map and compass, to bring them in, and leave them wrapped in an old rag at the foot of an iron post which he pointed out; and he agreed that as he was to be on duty that night about eleven o’clock he would not see me as I went over the fence on his post. He told me the exact spot where he would be standing between eleven and eleven ten, so that I could avoid him.
As to the financial arrangements he was to take me to the jail and then go over to the canteen at my request to buy me some paper, which purchase was approved. In the meanwhile I was to prepare the note and dig up the coin.
As he came in the Corporal came with him as no one was supposed to enter the room without the Corporal, but just as he laid my purchase on the table the telephone rang and the Corporal had to step away temporarily, which gave me the opportunity I needed. I handed the guard the piece of I.O.U. paper and a hundred marks in prisoners’ money. The deal was closed.