in rapid
succession.

Frederick tried to recall the man to his memory. He scarcely knew who he
himself was, with those cheers thundering in his ears, with hands on all
sides shaking his hands, and newsboys flourishing newspapers behind him
and above him and under his very nose.

"Don't you know me, Doctor von Kammacher?" the Japanese repeated,
grinning.

"By Jove," cried Frederick, "now I recognise you. You are Willy Snyders.
How do you come to be here?"

While studying several semesters in Breslau, Frederick had eked out his
income by tutoring a boy, a rather desperate case, whose father, a
furniture manufacturer, paid handsomely for his son's private lessons.
Frederick's pupil turned out to be a good-hearted chap, an amusing
scapegrace, who soon became his devoted slave. It was this scapegrace,
now a full-grown man, that Frederick recognised in the jolly Japanese.

"How I come to be here? I'll explain later," said Willy, his nostrils
dilating with the joy of seeing his teacher again. "The first thing is,
have you already engaged rooms, and shall I slip you past that damned
lot of reporters? Or do you want to be interviewed?"

"For heaven's sake, no! Not for the world."

"Then stick close to me," shouted Willy. "A cab is waiting for us, and
we'll drive straight to our folks."

Frederick introduced Ingigerd.

"I must first see this young lady safe to a hotel. And even then I can't
leave her entirely alone."

Willy instantly took in the situation, but it did not change his plans.

"Miss Hahlstroem can stop with us, too. She will be far more comfortable
than in a hotel. The only question is, can she put up with Italian
cooking?"

"I don't anticipate any difficulties from your macaroni and spaghetti _al
sugo_," said Frederick, who read Ingigerd's willingness in her eyes. "So
I'll follow your lead as you followed mine years ago."

"All right! Forward, march!" Willy's joy in his booty was patent.

When they left the pier, they saw Stoss still surrounded by reporters,
working his jaws with incredible rapidity, as he discoursed upon himself
and the role he had played in the sinking of the _Roland_. They were
about to enter their cab after their flight, through the crowd, when
an elderly gentleman, panting breathlessly and perspiring, despite the
nipping wind, stepped up to Ingigerd Hahlstroem with, "I beg your pardon,
but I come from Webster and Forster." He took off his hat and wiped the
inside band with hi