“What do you think ought to become of you?”
“It isn’t a question of oughtness. I imagine it’s a question of your own disposition. I seem to be your personal prisoner.”
“We’ve been rambling a good deal in our conversation,” said Topoff. “Let’s go back and pick up the broken threads and tie them together. Now, did you understand why I told you who owned this car?”
“No,” Phil replied.
“The reason is very simple. You had been comparing me with the sons of wealthy men who enter shops to learn, from the ground up, the business they propose to follow. Well, you weren’t very far off in your comparison. I’ve been doing the same thing in military life. That’s why you’ve seen me fighting shoulder to shoulder with privates in the front ranks, although I can give orders to captains, colonels, majors and generals. If I can command the use of one of the emperor’s automobiles, it’s reasonable to believe that I belong pretty high up, isn’t it?”
“Yes, it is,” the Marine sergeant answered. “I would assume that you must be related to the kaiser. Is it a fact that you are a cousin of his and that you are known as Count Topoff?”
“Where did you ever learn that?” “the count” demanded, gazing sharply at his youthful prisoner.
Phil shuddered apprehensively at the almost threatening manner of his captor. Was he, indeed, in possession of a secret regarding “Mr. Boaconstrictor’s” identity which was supposed to be known to only a favored and responsible few?
“You’d better explain how you got that information,” declared “the count” with menacing coldness; “and you’ll have to make your explanation very clear and straightforward if you escape a firing squad. It looks very much to me as if you are a spy.”