"At the battle of the Nile he was fitting all the while," murmured the fat boy under his breath. Tad rebuked Stacy with a look.
"One day, after I had served my time, I emigrated to America. It was not until then that I realized that I had been wrong, that I had been upholding an unworthy cause. That was years ago. Soon I had absorbed the spirit of American liberty and became at one with its ideals. I became a citizen. Of course I looked back on my army experience with a certain amount of pride. No one who has fought and bled can help doing that—-up to a certain point."
"I can well understand that," murmured Tad. "I think I know how you felt."
"When Germany made war on little Belgium and France my pride of service turned to regret. I was sorry deep down in my heart that I had served the Fatherland, but I rejoiced that I was then an American, a loyal American. It was when—-when the despicable Huns sank the Lusitania, the most dastardly crime in the world's history, that my soul was suddenly filled with loathing. I offered my services to the country of my adoption, believing that they would go to war at once, but I was too old, and then America was not yet prepared for the great conflict. Since we went to war I have again offered my services. I can still fight, young men."
"I should say you can," interjected Tad.
"My name, at this time, is an unfortunate one," continued the professor. "It is not the name, but the heart that counts, and my heart is in and for America, and my life and all that I have or ever shall have is hers for the asking."
The Pony Rider Boys with one accord sprang to their feet and, tossing their hats in the air, uttered a wild cowboy yell. Professor Zepplin held up a hand.
"Wait!" he commanded. "There is something yet to be done and now is the time to do it." Thrusting a hand into a pocket he drew forth a leather case and opened it with unsteady fingers. From the case he drew a small object wrapped in tissue paper.
"The Iron Cross," murmured the boys.
"Yes, it is the Iron Cross," agreed the professor. "Time was when this was my most priceless possession. Now I loathe it. Its possession has troubled me greatly of late and it has been my intention to rid myself of the hateful thing. Boys, what shall be done with it?"