"You are Herr Benson, are you not?" demanded Professor Radberg, as soon
as he got close enough.
"Benson is my name," nodded Jack, pleasantly.
"Then come back to the hotel with me."
"You are a foreigner, aren't you?" asked Jack, surveying the stranger
coolly.
"I am German," replied Radberg, in a tone of surprise.
"I thought so," nodded the boy. "That is, I didn't know from what
country you came. But, in this country, when we ask a favor of a
stranger, we usually say 'please.'"
"I am Herr Professor--"
"Oh, barbers are just as polite as other folks," Jack assured him, his
laughing eyes resting on the somewhat bewildered-looking face of the
German.
"Then please, Herr Benson, come back to the hotel with me."
"Yes; if it's really necessary. But why do you want to go to the
hotel?"
"Because, Herr Benson, when we are there, I shall have much of importance
to say to you."
"Important to me, or to you?" asked Jack, thoughtfully.
He had no intention of answering a much older man disrespectfully. But
there was about Herr Radberg the air of a man who expects his greatness
to be recognized at a glance, and who demands obedience from common
people as a right.
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