A heavy-necked man in a straw hat, who was chewing something, stopped the machine with a touch, and they all turned their eyes on Bert. And all their eyes were tired eyes.
“Can we give this gentleman anything to eat, mother, or can we not?” said the proprietor.
“He kin have what he likes?” said the woman at the counter, without moving, “right up from a cracker to a square meal.” She struggled with a yawn, after the manner of one who has been up all night.
“I want a meal,” said Bert, “but I 'aven't very much money. I don' want to give mor'n a shillin'.”
“Mor'n a WHAT?” said the proprietor, sharply.
“Mor'n a shillin',” said Bert, with a sudden disagreeable realisation coming into his mind.
“Yes,” said the proprietor, startled for a moment from his courtly bearing. “But what in hell is a shilling?”
“He means a quarter,” said a wise-looking, lank young man in riding gaiters.
Bert, trying to conceal his consternation, produced a coin. “That's a shilling,” he said.
“He calls A store A shop,” said the proprietor, “and he wants A meal for A shilling. May I ask you, sir, what part of America you hail from?”
Bert replaced the shilling in his pocket as he spoke, “Niagara,” he said.
“Well,” said the proprietor, and turned with a puzzled smile to the others. “Well!”
They asked various questions simultaneously.
Bert selected one or two for reply. “You see,” he said, “I been with the German air-fleet. I got caught up by them, sort of by accident, and brought over here.”
“Yes--from England. Way of Germany. I was in a great battle with them Asiatics, and I got lef' on a little island between the Falls.”
“I don' know what it was called. But any'ow I found a flying-machine and made a sort of fly with it and got here.”
Two men stood up with incredulous eyes on him. “Where's the flying-machine?” they asked; “outside?”
“It's back in the woods here--'bout arf a mile away.”
“Is it good?” said a thick-lipped man with a scar.
Everybody got up and stood about him and talked confusingly. They wanted him to take them to the flying-machine at once.
“Look 'ere,” said Bert, “I'll show you--only I 'aven't 'ad anything to eat since yestiday--except mineral water.”
A gaunt soldierly-looking young man with long lean legs in riding gaiters and a bandolier, who had hitherto not spoken, intervened now on his behalf in a note of confident authority. “That's aw right,” he said. “Give him a feed, Mr. Logan--from me. I want to hear more of that story of his. We'll see his machine afterwards. If you ask me, I should say it's a remarkably interesting accident had dropped this gentleman here. I guess we requisition that flying-machine--if we find it--for local defence.”