"Why?" he demanded fiercely.
"To get out my letter-case!"
Clubfoot nodded sagely.
"So, so!" he murmured, and his fleshy lips bared his yellow teeth in a cunning smile. "You have taken my advice. Gut, gut!"
But then he flashed at me a look full of suspicion and menace.
"No tricks!" he warned in a harsh voice of command. "Himmelkreuzsakrament nochmal! If you play me false, you dog, I'll blow your brains all over the ravine! Now, bring your hands slowly down and remember, one suspicious gesture will cost you your life!"
"Calm yourself, Herr Doktor!" I rejoined. "I know when I am beaten!"
And I made to pitch the letter-case on to the slab at his side.
Ah, but he was the cautious one, was old Clubfoot.... cautious with that deadly thoroughness of the Germans that gave a fellow who fell into their hands in the war such a very slender chance. He was taking no risks. With an imperious gesture he stopped me and made me take out the message from the case myself.
"Now throw it on the ground in front of you and turn about!"