Movie Pictorial (September 19, 1914)

6 THE MOVIE PICTORIAL September 19, 19U Hospitality Abused They Saw One of the Great Battleships of Zeppelin as the Sun Shone on its Great Cigar-Shaped Shell Taggart Escapes Through Germany to England Photos © Underwood & Underwood and International News Service S WITZERLAND is a neutral state. About all the important powers in the world have guaranteed that, no matter how savagely war may rage beyond its bor- ders, Switzerland shall be left to enjoy its im- memorial privileges in peace. That is necessary for the continued existence and prosperity of the country—for its main industry, that of shaking down American tourists, is essentially one of peace. It is a highly developed indus- try, too, and the natives regard it with affec- tion. And yet—if Clem Taggart and Billy Rey- nolds, having been saved from a German firing squad by the providential capture of Altkirch by the French, thought that their flight to neutral Switzerland was going to transport them at once to happy scenes of piping peace, they had, in the parlance of the day, several more thinks coming to them. Switzerland be- lieves thoroughly in the good faith of its neighbors—France, Germany, Austria and Italy. It knows that they will never violate its neutrality. But—every able bodied Swiss has gone through his period of military train- ing, and understands thoroughly the theory of war as practiced with modern guns and moun- tain artillery. In other words, the nation that invented the tip and the maitre d’hotel is taking no chances. It took its precau- tions before it learned the fate of Belgium in the pres- ent ' war, too. Bel- gium, you know, is another neutral state. But then, the innocent bystander is usually neutral, too. Clem Taggart and Billy Reynolds, still a little unstrung, it may be admitted, managed to get to sleep in the house of the old peasant near Basle. There had been a quality about the tone of the German colonel who had caught them at Altkirch that had affected Billy’s spinal cord in a most unpleas- ant manner. He had meant to have them shot; there wasn’t any doubt about that. Billy felt an undying gratitude toward the French. It didn’t make any difference that they would cheerfully have supplied the firing squad that the Germans, for reasons not under their control, had been unable to furnish, as Taggart had explained. The point was that they hadn’t done it. From that moment Billy was pro-French. In fact, his last words, be- fore he fell asleep, were: “I’m going to learn that French song—the Marseillaise, Clem! See if I don’t!” He hadn’t learned it when he woke up. He hadn’t had time to learn anything. The old Swiss peasant knew his duty. And the awakening of the two Americans was accom- plished by a lieutenant of the Swiss army, who was, in normal times, a captain of waiters in a Lucerne hotel. For that reason he was polite —as soon as he found that they were Ameri- cans. “I am sorry, m’ssieurs,” he said, after one of his men had prodded them into wakeful- ness. “Your passports, please? Your authori- zation to remain in Swiss territory?” “I pass,” said Taggart. Then he sat up, blinked the sleep out of his eyes, and regarded this new captor attentively. “I haven’t got anything that you would like,” he went on. “My passports are all right, but they’re not viseed for Switzerland. However—” He paused. There was something about this man that bothered him. Then, quite suddenly, he got it. “Emile!” he said, with passion. Reproach crept into his tone, into his eyes. “Emile! Would you do this to me? You who have so often warned me against the creations of Mr. Mouquin’s chef? You who have opened so many bottles of wine at my order? You—I blush to remind you—who have so often accepted my poor pourboire?” He was embraced—to the indignant surprise of Billy Reynolds. “M’sieu Taggart!” exclaimed Emile. “My friend—my patron! Two thousand pardons! Wait! I go—but I return! And with me I bring all that you require of papers! Be- hold—I have promised—I, Lieutenant Emile Picard!” He made good, too. And while he was gone Taggart explained. “Always tip your waiter, Billy,” he said, earnestly. “There’s no knowing when you’ll see him again—or how! Emile was the best waiter in Mouquin’s,, in New York—and look at him now! An officer of the Swiss army! I bet Max is a major general somewhere! Do you remember Max? Sure you do! He looked after us sometimes —- big, round chap, with one of those fierce moustaches?” Mr. Reynolds ex- pected to be damned, and said so. “If you say that this is a small world, after all. I’ll kill you,” said Taggart. “And I’ll tell Emile you’re a German spy, and they’ll give me a medal of honor beside acquitting me of murder!” “All right,” said Billy, meekly. “I won’t say it, then. But, look here — what are you going to do with Switzer- land, now you’ve got One of the Forts at Namur Which Was Captured by the Germans