SUGGESTIVE FLATTERY
“Do you know,” said Phil, with a manner of meditative musing, “you
remind me of something that has caused a good deal of comment all over
America on a number of occasions?”
The prisoner stopped to observe the effect of his question, but not with
the expectation of receiving an answer. The query was of a rhetorical
character hardly calling for more of a return than a manifestation of
interest. However, the effect on “Count Topoff’s” vanity moved him to
answer in as matter-of-fact a manner as if he were being quizzed on a
problem in arithmetic.
“No, indeed,” he said. “Is that so? How is it that I remind you of such
a thing?”
“Now, I’ve got to appeal to his intelligence as well as to his vanity,”
the flattery plotter mused. “I mustn’t fall down on this. I must handle
it so that he can’t help reading glory for himself between every two
words.”
He hesitated several moments, really for the purpose of phrasing his
ideas, although he attempted to resume an impressive attitude of
meditation. Then he said:
“Every now and then in America, we hear of a son of some
multi-millionaire starting at the bottom of some business in order to
learn it from the ground up. He sometimes dons overalls and enters the
shops of a foundry or other mechanical plant. He puts himself on a level
with the man who earns his bread by the sweat of his brow, in order that
when he reaches the top—maybe president of the company—there may be no
element of the business that he won’t understand.”
Phil paused for time to consider how next to proceed. He figured also
that his captor might interpose a remark of some sort that would aid him
in the development of his vanity trap. But the looked-for remark proved
to be more confusing than helpful.
“Boy,” said “the count,” with seeming irrelevance and casting a sharp
glance at his prisoner; “have you any idea whose car you’re riding in?”
“No,” Phil replied quickly; “unless it’s yours.”
“It belongs to the emperor of Germany,” was the rather startling
announcement.
The boy was silent for some moments. He was in doubt at first whether to
believe “the count’s” statement or to regard it as a bit of frivolous
fiction. Then he decided it was best to appear, at least, to accept it
as worthy of his credence.
“Is that so?” he said with affected eagerness of interest. “I’ll have
something big to tell my friends when I get back home—that I rode in the
kaiser’s car.”
“That is, if you ever get back home,” interposed “the count.”
“To be sure,” Phil agreed quickly. “The fortunes of war are very
uncertain.”
“Yes, in most wars; but in this war the fortunes and misfortunes are
absolutely fixed and have been fixed ever since it started,” said
Topoff, with unpleasant insinuation in his tone of voice. “I suppose you
know how this war is going to result.”
“No, I can’t say that I do. Can you tell me how it’s going to result?”
“Certainly. It’s going to result in complete victory for the central
allies. You ought to have been able to answer that question.”
“I suppose so,” Phil returned slowly. “But the question that now
interests me most is, what is going to become of me in the meantime?”
“What do you think ought to become of you?”
“It isn’t a question of oughtness. I imagine it’s a question of your own
disposition. I seem to be your personal prisoner.”
“We’ve been rambling a good deal in our conversation,” said Topoff.
“Let’s go back and pick up the broken threads and tie them together.
Now, did you understand why I told you who owned this car?”
“No,” Phil replied.
“The reason is very simple. You had been comparing me with the sons of
wealthy men who enter shops to learn, from the ground up, the business
they propose to follow. Well, you weren’t very far off in your
comparison. I’ve been doing the same thing in military life. That’s why
you’ve seen me fighting shoulder to shoulder with privates in the front
ranks, although I can give orders to captains, colonels, majors and
generals. If I can command the use of one of the emperor’s automobiles,
it’s reasonable to believe that I belong pretty high up, isn’t it?”
“Yes, it is,” the Marine sergeant answered. “I would assume that you
must be related to the kaiser. Is it a fact that you are a cousin of his
and that you are known as Count Topoff?”
“Where did you ever learn that?” “the count” demanded, gazing sharply at
his youthful prisoner.
Phil shuddered apprehensively at the almost threatening manner of his
captor. Was he, indeed, in possession of a secret regarding “Mr.
Boaconstrictor’s” identity which was supposed to be known to only a
favored and responsible few?
“You’d better explain how you got that information,” declared “the
count” with menacing coldness; “and you’ll have to make your explanation
very clear and straightforward if you escape a firing squad. It looks
very much to me as if you are a spy.”