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"Look here,old sport,"he broke out surprisingly.

"What's your opinion of me.anyhow?"A little overwhelmed,I began the generalized evasions which thatquestion deserves.

"Well,I'm going to tell you something about my life."he interrupted.

"I don't want you to get a wrong idea of me from all these stories you hear."So he was aware of the bizarreaccusations that flavored conversation in his halls

"I'll tell you God's truth."His right hand suddenly ordered divine retribution to stand by.

"I am the son of some wealthy people in the Middle Westall dead now.I was brought up in America buteducated at Oxford,because all my ancestors have been educated there for many years.It is a familytradition."He looked at me sidewaysand I knew why Jordan Baker had believed he was lying.He hurriedthe phrase "educated at Oxford,"or swallowed it.or choked on it.as though it had bothered him before.

And with this doubt.his whole statement fell to pieces,and I wondered if there wasn't something a littlesinister about him.after all.

"What part of the Middle West?"I inquired casually

"San Francisco."

"I see."

"My family all died and I came into a good deal of money."His voice was solemn,as if the memory of thatsudden extinction of a clan still haunted him.For a moment I suspected that he was pulling my leg.but aglance at him convinced me otherwise.

"After that I lived like a young rajah in all the capitals of EUROPEParis,Venice,Romecollecting jewels,chiefly rubies.hunting big game,painting a little,things for myself only.and trying to forget something verysad that had happened to me long ago."With an effort I managed to restrain my incredulous laughter.Thevery phrases were worn so threadbare that they evoked no image except that of a turbaned "character."leaking sawdust at every pore as he pursued a tiger through the Bois de Boulogne.

"Then came the war.old sport.It was a great relief,and I tried very hard to die.but I seemed to bear anenchanted life.I accepted a commission as first lieutenant when it began.In the Argonne Forest I took twomachine-gun detachments so far forward that there was a half mile gap on either side of us where theinfantry couldn't advance.We stayed there two days and two nights.a hundred and thirty men with sixteen

Lewis guns,and when the infantry came up at last they found the insignia of three German divisions amongthe piles of dead.I was promoted to be a major,and every Allied government gave me a decorationeven

Montenegro.little Montenegro down on the Adriatic Sea!"Little Montenegro!He lifted up the words andnodded at themwith his smile.The smile comprehended Montenegro's troubled history and sympathizedwith the brave struggles of the Montenegrin people.It appreciated fully the chain of national circumstanceswhich had elicited this tribute from Montenegro's warm little heart.My incredulity was submerged infascination now:it was like skimming hastily through a dozen magazines.

He reached in his pocket,and a piece of metal.slung on a ribbon,fell into my palm.

"That's the one from Montenegro."To my astonishment,the thing had an authentic look.