I really thought Kast was going to forget his Swiss
blood, and chase a whole peso of custom right out of the place."
"If you ask me, I think the blighter is barmy," asserted the
Briton.
"Well, I'll ask you," proffered the elegant one kindly. "Why do
you consider him 'barmy,' as you put it?"
"When I first saw him here and heard him speak to the waiter, I
knew him for an American Johnny at once, and I went, directly I'd
finished my soup, and sat down at his table. The friendly touch,
y' know. 'I say,' I said to him, 'I don't know you, but I heard
you speak, and I knew at once you were one of these Americans--
tell you at once by the beastly queer accent, you know. You are an
American, ay--wot?' Wot d' you suppose the blighter said? He
said, 'No, I'm an ichthyo'--somethin' or other--"
"Ichthyosaurus, perhaps," supplied the Caracunuan, smiling.
"That's it, whatever it may be. 'I'm an ichthyosaurus,' he says.
'It's a very old family, but most of the buttons are off. Were you
ever bitten by one in the fossil state? Very exhilaratin', but
poisonous,' he says. 'So don't let me keep you any longer from
your dinner.
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