LITERARY INNKEEPER'S ADVENTURE
details. I made out that I was a mining magnate from Kimberley, who had a lot of trouble with I. D. B. and had shown up a gang. They had pursued me across the ocean and had killed my best friend and were now on my tracks.
I told the story well, though I say it who shouldn't. I pictured a flight across the Kalahari to German Africa, the crackling, parching days, the wonderful blue-velvet nights. I described an attack on my life on the voyage home, and I made a really horrid affair of the Portland Place murder.
"You've looking for adventure," I cried. "Well, you've found it here. The devils are after me, and the police are after them. It's a race that I mean to win."
"By God," he whispered, drawing his breath in sharply, "it is all pure Rider Haggard and Conan Doyle."
"You believe me," I said gratefully.
"Of course I do," and he held out his hand. "I believe everything out of the common. The only thing to distrust is the normal."
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