"Call him Captain X," Hirsch answered softly. "He does not care to be
known here!"
"But how did he get into the room upstairs?" I asked. "I never saw him in
the restaurant."
Hirsch smiled placidly.
"It is well," he said, "my young friend, that you do not ask too many
questions!"
The man whom I was to call Captain X turned now and beckoned to me. I
approached and stood at attention.
"I have accepted this man, Paul Schmidt, as a member of the No. 1 Branch
of the Waiters' Union," he announced. "Paul Schmidt, listen attentively,
and you will understand in outline what the responsibilities are that you
have undertaken."
There was a short silence. The men at the table looked at me, and I
looked at them. I was not in any way ill at ease, but I felt a
terrible inclination to laugh. The whole affair seemed to me a little
ludicrous. There was nothing in the appearance of these men or the
surroundings in the least impressive. They had the air of being
unintelligent middle-class tradesmen of peaceable disposition, who had
just dined to their fullest capacity, and were enjoying a comfortable
smoke together.
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