Gard's route, his through ticket to the sea, his traveling clothing, were subjects of daily conversation at the table. Although the family were entirely obliging, Rudi, odd to say, occupied himself the most about the trip. He seemed wonderfully keyed up and more full of military talk even than usual. He insisted on seeing about time-tables, hotels to be recommended, the favorite dishes and brews to be called for at each stopping place for local tone. Kirtley was pleased over his friendly attentions. He wished to leave with good feelings all around. When Rudi helped him get his trunk from the store room, Gard's forgotten passport fell out and excited the other's curiosity. "I've never seen an American state paper before," he remarked, puffing a cigarette. "What a droll looking affair! So different from ours. Would you mind if I just glanced at it?" "Certainly not." Anderson's suspicions of the young German glanced through Kirtley's mind. But Rudi was a thick-headed boy, and what could he or anyone accomplish with a passport? Gard had scarcely been called upon to use it. It had been treated almost as a blank formality, an empty courtesy. "You don't have to show it in German towns--only at the frontier? Am I right?" inquired Rudi after he had minutely read it through as if he had been an official. "Only at the frontier." Gard grew wary. This knowing and recent familiarity was not becoming entirely agreeable. It would be prudent to mystify the son. "But of course something _might_ happen in a German town and I might need it. So it's always convenient to have about." "Where are you going to carry it, then?" pursued the other, handing back the ribboned paper. "Would you think my grip would be the place?" "Your grip? Yes, that's just like me. I always shove everything into my grip at last. See here, now. I have none of my papers about me. All in my grip--even in the house." Rudi opened to view his inside coat pocket in testimony, as if he were an important individual. Gard shifted ground again. "I don't know. I may carry it in my pocket--with my ticket. What if I leave it in my trunk after all? I shall have to open up at the border anyhow." The subject of the passport kept in Rudi's mind. Three days later he called out to Gard: "I have been thinking it over and I believe you should carry your passport in your grip. It may slip out of your pocket while you are dozing in the train." "Danke schoen!" said Gard. The parents also took great interest in the matter. The paper ought to be examined by the German authorities. Was it not Herr Kirtley's credentials to the German nation? Nothing would answer but that Herr Bucher and Rudolph should take it in town and see that the proper officials were duly cognizant. It was another evidence to Gard that a Teuton is not content until his Government is given an opportunity to approve. The document seemed so vital to Villa Elsa that Gard mentioned it to Anderson in the way of gossip.