“I don't know, sir—I don't think so.”
“Certainly not six?”
“No, sir,” said Jimmie, feeling quite safe now. “I'm sure there weren't six.”
So the lieutenant opened a drawer in the table before him, and took out a bunch of the leaflets, folded, wrinkled and dirt-stained, and spread them before Jimmie's eyes, one, two, three, four, five, six, seven. “You lie!” said the lieutenant.
“I was mistaken, sir,” said Jimmie.
“Have you searched this man?” the officer demanded of the other soldiers.
“Not yet, sir.”
“Do it now.”
They made certain that Jimmie had no weapons, and then they made him strip to the skin. They searched everything, even prying loose the soles of his boots; and, of course, one of the first things they found was the red card in the inside jacket-pocket. “Aha!” cried the lieutenant.
“That's a card of the Socialist party,” said Jimmie.