Guess I’m wanted in the dining-car.

     [He vanishes.  The little man sits down again, but back to the
     engine, away from the draught, and looks out of the window,
     patiently jogging the baby On his knee.]

Curtain

SCENE III

An arrival platform.  The little man, with the baby and the bundle, is standing disconsolate, while travellers pass and luggage is being carried by.  A station official, accompanied by a policeman, appears from a doorway, behind him.

Official. [Consulting telegram in his hand] ‘Das ist der Herr’.

     [They advance to the little man.]

Official.  ‘Sie haben einen Buben gestohlen’?

Little man.  I only speak English and American.

Official.  ‘Dies ist nicht Ihr Bube’?

     [He touches the Baby.]

Little man. [Shaking his head] Take care—­it’s ill.

     [The man does not understand.]

Ill—­the baby——­

Official. [Shaking his head] ‘Verstehe nicht’.  Dis is nod your baby? 
No?

Little man. [Shaking his head violently] No, it is not.  No.

Official. [Tapping the telegram] Gut!  You are ’rested. [He signs to the policeman, who takes the little MAN’s arm.]

Little man.  Why?  I don’t want the poor baby.

Official. [Lifting the bundle] ’Dies ist nicht Ihr Gepack’—­pag?

Little Mary.  No.

Official.  Gut!  You are ’rested.

Little man.  I only took it for the poor woman.  I’m not a thief—­
I’m—­I’m——­

Official. [Shaking head] Verstehe nicht.

     [The little man tries to tear his hair.  The disturbed baby
     wails.]

Little man. [Dandling it as best he can] There, there—­poor, poor!

Official.  Halt still!  You are ’rested.  It is all right.

Little man.  Where is the mother?

Official.  She comet by next drain.  Das telegram say:  ’Halt einen Herren mit schwarzem Buben and schwarzem Gepack’.  ’Rest gentleman mit black baby and black—­pag.

     [The little man turns up his eyes to heaven.]

Official.  ‘Komm mit us’.

     [They take the little man toward the door from which they have
     come.  A voice stops them.]

American. [Speaking from as far away as may be] Just a moment!

[The official stops; the little man also stops and sits down on a bench against the wall.  The policeman stands stolidly beside him.  The American approaches a step or two, beckoning; the official goes up to him.]

American.  Guess you’ve got an angel from heaven there!  What’s the gentleman in buttons for?