I was dumfounded. So this was the result of my caution!
“By which of your names shall I call you?” I asked satirically, but the satire was lost on him.
“The last one. That is a good name. It is nearly as common as Smith. Besides, I really have a right to it. I came by it honestly. I have a friend in New York by that name and he has kindly lent it to me for emergencies. So if anybody wants to write or telegraph to New York about it, they will find me all right. My cousin in New York—who really is my cousin many degrees removed—will acknowledge me. He is well known in business circles there.”
“Whom shall I introduce you to?”
“I would rather meet those officers.”
“Good gracious!”
He smiled. “They can give me more, and more accurate, information than anybody else, and of just the kind I want.”
“You are going to get yourself shot before you start home. I won’t be responsible for you.”
“They don’t shoot spies—they hang ’em,” he said cheerfully.
I believe his cheerful ease carried us safely through this conversation under the eyes of the enemy, as it had done before.