"Or about your tramping on foot to Chicago," said Lobkowitz.
"Or," said Ritter, "your adventure in Boston, when two policemen, strangely mistaking your condition for a tremendous jag, took you on a drive in the patrol wagon to the lock-up."
"It's very good they did," said Franck, smiling and tossing the lock from his forehead. "I should certainly have caught a cold if they hadn't."
To Frederick's puzzlement, every one of Franck's utterances was greeted by a shout of laughter.
"Franck is a genuine genius," whispered Willy to Frederick, while filling a glass with Chianti, "and the greatest eccentric in the world. Franck," he cried, "didn't you come to America without a cent of money?"
"For what does one need money?" Franck rejoined, at great leisure, with a naïve smile.
"Didn't you come over as a stoker?"
"Ye-e-es," said Franck, "I was engaged as a stoker."
"But you didn't do any stoking?"
"No, I didn't have the muscle for it."