“Why did you switch to Donnelly when you came in the Army?” Max asked.
“I didn’t switch then,” Dick replied. “You see, my folks were crazy about it when they first came to America. They made up their minds to become as American as George Washington. So they changed the name back to its old original, Donnelly, because it sounded more like most names in America.”
As Dick talked, Tony Avella was looking at him closely, with a puzzled expression on his face.
“Dick Donnelly,” he murmured to himself. “Richard Donnelly!” And then a light dawned in his eyes and he smiled. “I get it now! I thought your face looked a little familiar. Of course, I’ve seen pictures of you. I’ve seen you—and heard you, too!”
“What is all this?” Max Burckhardt demanded.
“Am I right?” Tony asked, smiling at his sergeant.
“Yes, you’re right, Tony,” Dick answered.
“Say, let me in on the secret,” Max blurted out.
“Sure, Max,” Tony said. “Just translate Richard Donnelly into Italian. Ricardo Donnelli.”
“Sure—sure—Ricardo Donnelli,” Max said impatiently. “That’s obvious, but what does—”