CHAPTER XXXIV.
TOLD HIM A STORY.
At the appointed time, the next day, George Witherspoon was waiting in his library.

DeGolyer came in a cab, and when he got out, he told the driver to wait.
"Where is your friend ?" Witherspoon asked as DeGolyer entered the room.
"He'll be here within a few minutes." "Confound him, I'm getting sick of his peculiarities." The merchant sat down; DeGolyer stood on the hearth-rug.

The time was come, and he had been strong, but now a shiver crept over him.
"My friend told me a singular story to-day." "I don't doubt it; and if his stories are as singular as he is, they must he marvelous." "This story _is_ marvelous, and I think it would interest you.

I will give it to you briefly.

There were two young men in a foreign country"-- "I wish he was in a foreign country.