He was a short, broad man with a weather-beaten face and an anxious eye.
“May I have a word with you, Herr Captain?” I said, with what I hoped was a judicious blend of authority and conciliation.
He nodded to his companion, who walked on.
“Yes?” he asked rather impatiently.
I proffered him my pass. Thank Heaven he had seen the kind of thing before, for his face at once took on that curious look which one person in authority always wears when he is confronted with another. He studied it closely and then raised his eyes.
“Well, Sir?” he said. “I observe your credentials. What can I do for you?”
“I take it you are bound for Constantinople?” I asked.
“The boats go as far as Rustchuk,” he replied. “There the stuff is transferred to the railway.”
“And you reach Rustchuk when?”
“In ten days, bar accidents. Let us say twelve to be safe.”