justice, who committed felonious and insulting assault on Pedro
Hillary, the well-known and respected resident of Ferdinand Street.
It is suspected," says the Proclamation, "that, if still in the city,
he will endeavour to escape by steamer in disguise. Description."----

Which description of him was remarkable for length and scorn.

I heard the American consul say to the British consul; "I'll tell
you what that is, old man. That's a porous plaster. It has some
holes, but it's meant to cover your indecency."

That Thursday night I sat alone on the deck of the Hotel Helen Mar.
It was near ten o'clock. I saw a flamingo rise from the river, and it
flew over the _Helen Mar_, like a ghost, trailing its legs.

And the ladder creaked, and Sadler came over the side. He stepped
soft and long like a ghost.

"How do?" he says, and sat down, and twankled his banjo.

Then I asked, "Why? What for?" I says, "I don't see it," I says. "It
ain't reasonable." It was well enough for a flamingo, but a man has
responsibilities. It's not right for him to be a floating object
that's no such thing. He's got no business to be impossible, unless
he explains himself. I stated that opinion pretty sharp, but Sadler
was calm.

"Irish hooked the _Harvest Moon_" he says, "and lay outside for
the steamer. I jumped overboard."