AN AFRICAN DISCOVERY.


"Of course it is very curious; but if you'll pardon me, my dear fellow,
you might as well tell me you had found a philosopher's stone."

Still, the rough glass phial, with odd metal bands around its neck, had
a fascination for me. I picked it up again, and tilted it idly back and
forth in my hand, watching the slimy brown fluid, the color of
poppy-juice, slip along its sides.

Hilyard smoked on imperturbably. The color mounted under his bronzed
skin up to the light rings of his hair; there was a momentary angry
flash in his pale blue eyes, but it was only for an instant.

"Perhaps you would like to try it, since you are so skeptical," he said,
grimly.

"Thanks, I have no wish to poison myself, and I have no doubt it is a
poison; but what I do doubt is the remarkable qualities you claim for
it. How did you come across the vile stuff, anyway?"

Hilyard stretched himself comfortably in his chair, and took his beloved
pipe from his handsome mouth. "Oh! well, you know," he said, lazily, "I
don't claim to be a Stanley by any means, but I did go a good bit into
Africa. I wasn't bent on discovering anything, and I loafed around, and
shot big game when there was any to shoot, and I learned some odd things