"And in _your_ town?"
"Not so," I declared truthfully. How truthfully Your Excellency well
knows.
* * * * *
"There's something peculiar about you," he said, "something very
peculiar." He leaned back in his chair and his glance swept over me.
"Suppose you cut out the leopard skin," he said, "and wear a jersey
and trousers."
I laughed to myself. He thought my bare body, my bulging muscles had
been the cause of the trouble. What a fool! Is Your Excellency
laughing too? However, I dared not disagree with him. By that time he
had had many drinks. He was looking mean. He reached over and grabbed
the lapel of my coat in his fist.
"What the hell kind of a guy are you?" he snarled at me.
My hands twitched. I wished I could have picked him up and tied him in
a four-in-hand knot around his own neck.
"Who the hell are you?" he repeated.
I yawned and stretched and got to my feet. "Not even a strong man
now," I said casually, "just a tired man."