March 22nd, 2008

always a tiger

burning daylight

saturday xxxii

and nothing ever came of it. the thing remained a secret with the three men. nor did daylight ever give the secret away, though that afternoon, leaning back in his stateroom on the twentieth century, his shoes off, and feet on a chair, he chuckled long and heartily. new york remained forever puzzled over the affair; nor could it hit upon a rational explanation. by all rights, burning daylight should have gone broke, yet it was known that he immediately reappeared in san francisco possessing an apparently unimpaired capital.

"every trooper should be at pains to keep his lance straight between the ears of his charger, if these weapons are to be distinct and terror-striking, and at the same time to appear numerous."
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