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of the Apes
I HAD this
story from one who had no business to tell it to
me, or to any other. I may credit the seductive
influence of an old vintage upon the narrator
for the beginning of it, and my own skeptical
incredulity during the days that followed for
the balance of the strange tale.
When my convivial host discovered that he had
told me so much, and that I was prone to
doubtfulness, his foolish pride assumed the task
the old vintage had commenced, and so he
unearthed written evidence in the form of musty
manuscript, and dry official records of the
British Colonial Office to support many of the
salient features of his remarkable narrative.
I do not say the story is true, for I did not
witness the happenings which it portrays, but
the fact that in the telling of it to you I have
taken fictitious names for the principal
characters quite sufficiently evidences the
sincerity of my own belief that it may be true.
The yellow, mildewed pages of the diary of a man
long dead, and the records of the Colonial
Office dovetail perfectly with the narrative of
my convivial host, and so I give you the story
as I painstakingly pieced it out from these
several various agencies.
If you do not find it credible you will at least
be as one with me in acknowledging that it is
unique, remarkable, and interesting...
Return of Tarzan
"MAGNIFIQUE!" ejaculated the Countess de
Coude, beneath her breath.
"Eh?" questioned the count, turning toward his
young wife. "What is it that is magnificent?"
and the count bent his eyes in various
directions in quest of the object of her
"Oh, nothing at all, my dear," replied the
countess, a slight flush momentarily coloring
her already pink cheek. "I was but recalling
with admiration those stupendous skyscrapers, as
they call them, of New York," and the fair
countess settled herself more comfortably in her
steamer chair, and resumed the magazine which "nothing
at all" had caused her to let fall upon her lap.
Her husband again buried himself in his book,
but not without a mild wonderment that three
days out from New York his countess should
suddenly have realized an admiration for the
very buildings she had but recently
characterized as horrid.
Presently the count put down his book. "It is
very tiresome, Olga," he said. "I think that I
shall hunt up some others who may be equally
bored, and see if we cannot find enough for a
game of cards."
"You are not very gallant, my husband," replied
the young woman, smiling, "but as I am equally
bored I can forgive you. Go and play at your
tiresome old cards, then, if you will." When he
had gone she let her eyes wander slyly to the
figure of a tall young man stretched lazily in a
chair not far distant...
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