But in Germany they are not content with your explaining a little matter of this sort to one man: they take you round and get you to explain it to about half a dozen; and if any one of the half dozen happens not to be handy, or not to have time just then to listen to you, they have a habit of leaving you over for the night to finish your explanation the next morning.

I thought I would just put the thing out of sight, and then, without making any fuss or show, take a short walk.

I found a wood shed, which seemed just the very place, and was wheeling the bicycle into it when, unfortunately, a red- hatted railway official, with the airs of a retired field-marshal, caught sight of me and came up.

He said: "What are you doing with that bicycle ?" I said: "I am going to put it in this wood shed out of the way." I tried to convey by my tone that I was performing a kind and thoughtful action, for which the railway officials ought to thank me; but he was unresponsive.
"Is it your bicycle ?" he said.
"Well, not exactly," I replied.
"Whose is it ?" he asked, quite sharply.
"I can't tell you," I answered.

"I don't know whose bicycle it is." "Where did you get it from ?" was his next question.