But the climax was yet to come.

There was a vague sort of commotion among the banqueters and Baahaabaa
rose with amazing steadiness and made another speech, short this time,
but aimed point-blank at us, after which, through the center of a sort
of kick-off formation I saw approaching four of the most exquisite
women in the world. When ten feet away they fell on all fours and,
using the Australian crawl-stroke, crept slowly toward us, exhaling
sounds of passionate endearment mingled with the heart-stopping
fragrance of _alova_. Beyond the glimmering lights, an unseen choir
burst into the "a-a-a" of the national love-song.

It was a critical not to say embarrassing moment. These lovely ladies
were very evidently presents, banquet-favors so to speak, which we
were expected to take home with us. To refuse them meant certain
offense, perhaps death. Triplett was plainly non-plussed. Swank and
Whinney were too far gone to be of any assistance. Summoning all my
reserve strength I rose and faced the whirling assembly.

"Gentlemen," I said solemnly, "one final toast, to the President of
the United States,"--at the same time draining a huge shell of _hoopa_.
My companions followed suit and we fell simultaneously.

For the next twenty-four hours we were safe. After that, who knew?




CHAPTER V