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Chapter 1

           

           Ithoughtforaninstantortwo.“Right.I’lltrustyouforthenight.I’lllockyouintothisroomandkeepthekey.Justoneword,MrScudder.Ibelieveyou’restraight,butifsobeyouarenotIshouldwarnyouthatI’mahandymanwithagun.”

           “Sure,”hesaid,jumpingupwithsomebriskness.“Ihaven’ttheprivilegeofyourname,sir,butletmetellyouthatyou’reawhiteman.I’llthankyoutolendmearazor.”

           Itookhimintomybedroomandturnedhimloose.Inhalfanhour’stimeafigurecameoutthatIscarcelyrecognized.Onlyhisgimlety,hungryeyeswerethesame.Hewasshavedclean,hishairwaspartedinthemiddle,andhehadcuthiseyebrows.Further,hecarriedhimselfasifhehadbeendrilled,andwastheverymodel,eventothebrowncomplexion,ofsomeBritishofficerwhohadhadalongspellinIndia.Hehadamonocle,too,whichhestuckinhiseye,andeverytraceoftheAmericanhadgoneoutofhisspeech.

           “Myhat!MrScudderIstammered.

           “NotMrScudder,”hecorrected;“CaptainTheophilusDigby,ofthe40thGurkhas,presentlyhomeonleave.I’llthankyoutorememberthat,sir.”

           Imadehimupabedinmysmoking-roomandsoughtmyowncouch,morecheerfulthanIhadbeenforthepastmonth.Thingsdidhappenoccasionally,eveninthisGod-forgottenmetropolis.

           Iwokenextmorningtohearmyman,Paddock,makingthedeuceofarowatthesmoking-roomdoor.PaddockwasafellowIhaddoneagoodturntooutontheSelakwe,andIhadinspannedhimasmyservantassoonasIgottoEngland.

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