"We take over this office in the name of the German Emperor.

Get out!" As though instinctively seeking his only weapon of defence, the hand of the boy operator moved across the table to the key of his instrument.
Ford flung his rifle upon it.
"No, you don't!" he growled.

"Get out!" With eyes still bulging, the boy lifted himself into a sitting posture.
"My pay--my month's pay ?" he stammered.

"Can I take It ?" The expression on the face of the conqueror relaxed.
"Take it and get out," Ford commanded.
With eyes still fixed in fascinated terror upon the invader, the boy pulled open the drawer of the table before him and fumbled with the papers inside.
"Quick!" cried Ford.
The boy was very quick.

His hand leaped from the drawer like a snake, and Ford found himself looking into a revolver of the largest calibre issued by a civilized people.