“I told him Paris had been my headquarters and I’d made frequent trips in and out.”

“How did you get to Belgium?”

“In an automobile.”

“An automobile!”

“Yes, sir.”

“What were you doing?”

“I was being the guest of your army.”

A great light dawned upon them.

“Oh!” said one, smiling. “He means he was behind our lines, not theirs.”

“I should hope so,” said I.