“You came from West Point,” he repeated, incredulously, “all the way to Honduras--to join me!” He turned to the two officers. “Did he tell you this?” he demanded. They answered, “No,” promptly, and truthfully as well, for they had not given me time to tell them anything. “Have you any credentials, passports, or papers?” he said. When he asked this I saw Reeder whisper eagerly to Heinze, and then walk away. He had gone to search my trunk for evidence that I was a spy, and had I suspected this I would have protested violently, but it did not occur to me then that he would do such a thing. “I have only the passport I got from the commandante at Porto Cortez,” I said. At the words Aiken gave a quick shake of the head, as a man does when he sees another move the wrong piece on the chess-board. But when I stared at him inquiringly his expression changed instantly to one of interrogation and complete unconcern. “Ah!” exclaimed Heinze, triumphantly, “he has a permit from the Government.” “Let me see it,” said the General. I handed it to him, and he drew a camp-chair from the tent, and, seating himself, began to compare me with the passport. “In this,” he said at last, “you state that you are a commercial traveller; that you are going to the capital on business, and that you are a friend of the Government.” I was going to tell him that until it had been handed me by Aiken, I had known nothing of the passport, but I considered that in some way this might involve Aiken, and so I answered: “It was necessary to tell them any story, sir, in order to get into the interior. I could not tell them that I was _not_ a friend of the Government, nor that I was trying to join you.” “Your stories are somewhat conflicting,” said the General. “You are led to our hiding-place by a man who is himself under suspicion, and the only credentials you can show are from the enemy. Why should I believe you are what you say you are? Why should I believe you are not a spy?” I could not submit to having my word doubted, so I bowed stiffly and did not speak. “Answer me,” the General commanded, “what proofs have I?” “You have nothing but my word for it,” I said. General Laguerre seemed pleased with that, and I believe he was really interested in helping me to clear myself. But he had raised my temper by questioning my word. “Surely you must have something to identify you,” he urged. “If I had I’d refuse to show it,” I answered. “I told you why I came here. If you think I am a spy, you can go ahead and shoot me as a spy, and find out whether I told you the truth afterward.” The General smiled indulgently. “There would be very little satisfaction in that for me, or for you,” he said. “I’m an officer and a gentleman,” I protested, “and I have a right to be treated as one. If you serve every gentleman who volunteers to join you in the way I have been served, I’m not surprised that your force is composed of the sort you have around you.”