“They will not let you get within a block of them. Do you think it will be possible to persuade one of the German servants to find out from the soldiers? I would pay any price.”
“Well, I will dress myself like the cook and go out and flirt with one of the soldiers for $2. I’m a little badly off for money myself just about this time.”
“Lawrence, you must stop joking. I tell you, something must be done.”
“Leave me think, leave me think,” said the irrepressible. “Donnerwetter, I have it! What time does the Hohenzollern Glee Club arrive?”
“At nine o’clock.”
“And you come on immediately after the ‘First Part,’ succeeding which I suppose Lohengrin will sing his Duck Ditty, while the Boy Scout, dressed as Uncle Tom’s Cabin, after biting the triggers off all the guns, and pulling his wig well down over his eyes”—imitating the action—“will sally forth into the limpid limelights, and after he has been shot once in the face by a 16-inch howitzer and has been played upon in the rear by a battery of machine guns, he will limp on with the regular limp of the old Virginia servant and die at your feet, but not until I have whispered their secret into the heel of your boot.”
Edestone had known Lawrence long enough to understand that all of this nonsense meant that his really bright mind was working, and that he had some definite plan in view. The best way to handle him, he had found out, was to let his exuberance of spirit have free swing, so he replied in the same melodramatic manner: “Good, my faithful District Messenger Boy. Now in what way can I assist you in your wonderful scheme?”
“Leave all to me, Lord Reginald Bolingbroke, and before the clock on yon ‘back drop’ strikes eight bells, you will know what is hidden beneath these veils of mystery.”
“I can depend upon you,” Edestone eyed him searchingly, “and no mistake?”
“On the life of me mother who lies dead beneath the sacred soil of dear old Idaho!” With a wave of an imaginary sword, and jumping astride an imaginary stick horse, he saluted and galloped from the room, singing “It’s a Long Way to Tipperary.”