Turning his face with an ironical glance at me, he replied: “Adolph Von Rucker.”
“What is your rank?”
“Captain of the 21st Prussian Guards,” he replied, proudly.
“Do you know this man?” said the interrogating officer to me.
“Yes,” I replied, saluting. “It is Jonathan Nickerson, late lieutenant of Co. —— Regt., U. S. A. Reserves,” for I thought that his masquerading could not serve him for long.
“What do you reply to that?” interrogated the examining officer.
“I make no reply,” he replied firmly, “other than that it is false; a mistake probably. Lieutenant Stark has mistaken me for my brother, who is very like me. I am Captain Adolph Von Rucker, as I have before asserted.”
“How do you identify him?” asked the officer, turning to me.
“Adolph Von Rucker, whom I met, had an arm that hung loose in his sleeve,” I answered.
“Yes,” he replied, lifting his helmet with the left hand and brushing away the clotted hair with the other; “he’s right.” Then putting both hands in front of him he called attention to the arms explaining, “One arm is two inches shorter than the other because of resection.”