“It will probably be a serious temptation to me to embezzle your share of the thousand pounds. You won’t want it, you know, when you get back weighed down with nuggets. I’ll invest it for you in Herzoslovakian oil shares. You know, James, the more I think of it, the more pleased I am with this idea of yours. I should never have thought of Herzoslovakia if you hadn’t mentioned it. I shall spend one day in London, collecting the booty, and then away by the Balkan express!”
“You won’t get off quite as fast as that. I didn’t mention it before, but I’ve got another little commission for you.”
Anthony sank into a chair and eyed him severely.
“I knew all along that you were keeping something dark. This is where the catch comes in.”
“Not a bit. It’s just something that’s got to be done to help a lady.”
“Once and for all, James, I refuse to be mixed up in your beastly love affairs.”
“It’s not a love affair. I’ve never seen the woman. I’ll tell you the whole story.”
“If I’ve got to listen to more of your long, rambling stories, I shall have to have another drink.”
His host complied hospitably with this demand, then began the tale.
“It was when I was up in Uganda. There was a Dago there whose life I had saved”
“If I were you, Jimmy, I should write a short book entitled ‘Lives I Have Saved.” This is the second I’ve heard of this evening.”
“Oh, well, I didn’t really do anything this time. Just pulled the Dago out of the river. Like all Dagos, he couldn’t swim.”
“Wait a minute, has this story anything to do with the other business?”
“Nothing whatever, though, oddly enough, now I remember it, the man was a Herzoslovakian. We always called him Dutch Pedro though.”
Anthony nodded indifferently.
“Any name’s good enough for a Dago,” he remarked. “Get on with the good work, James.”
“Well, the fellow was sort of grateful about it. Hung around like a dog. About six months later he died of fever. I was with him. Last thing, just as he was pegging out, he
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