A MODERN UTOPIA
much trouble to you, but do you mind following up that last clue and inquiring if the person to whom the thumbmark really belongs isn't in Norway still?"
The idea needs explanation. He says something incomprehensible about a pilgrimage. "Sooner or later," I say, "you will have to believe there are two of us with the same thumbmark. I won't trouble you with any apparent nonsense about other planets and so forth again. Here I am. If I was in Norway a few days ago, you ought to be able to trace my journey hither. And my friend?"
"He was in India." The official is beginning to look perplexed.
"It seems to me," I say, "that the difficulties in this case are only just beginning. How did I get from Norway hither? Does my friend look like hopping from India to the St. Gotthard at one hop? The situation is a little more difficult than that———"
"But here!" says the official, and waves what are no doubt photographic copies of the index cards.
"But we are not those individuals!"
"You are those individuals."
"You will see," I say.
He dabs his finger argumentatively upon the thumbmarks. "I see now," he says.
"There is a mistake," I maintain, "an unprecedented mistake. There's the difficulty. If you inquire you will find it begin to unravel. What reason is there for us to remain casual workmen here, when you allege we are men of position in the world, if there isn't something wrong? We shall stick to this
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