"Well, I got it from Ashburton, a member of the Alpine Club in London. But everybody knows the story--wonder you haven't heard it. You ought to come out of your hole, old man, and see what's going on in the world. You live up in that den of yours, and the procession goes by and you don't even hear the band. You ought to know Jack--he'd do you a lot of good," and Marny looked at me curiously--as a physician would, who, when he prescribes for you, tells you only one-half of your ailment. I did not interrupt my friend--I wasn't getting thousands for a child's head, and twice that price for the mother in green silk and diamonds. And I couldn't afford to hang out my window and watch any kind of procession, figurative or otherwise. Nor could I afford to exchange dinners with John Stirling. "Do you want me to tell you about that time the Rajah had in India? Well, move your glass this way," and my host picked up the '84. "Ashburton," continued Marny, and he filled my glass to the brim, "is one of those globe-trotters who does mountain-tops for exercise. He knows the Andes as well as he does the glaciers in Switzerland; has been up the Matterhorn and Mont Blanc, and every other snow-capped peak within reach, and so he thought he'd try the Himalayas. You know how these Englishmen are--the rich ones. At twenty-five a good many of them have exhausted life. Some shoot tigers, some fit out caravans and cross deserts, some get lost in African jungles, and some come here and go out West for big game; anything that will keep them from being bored to death before they are thirty-five years of age. Ashburton was that kind. "He had only been home ten days--he had spent two years in Yucatan looking up Toltec ruins--when this Himalaya trip got into his head. Question was, whom could he get to go with him, for these fellows hate to be alone. Some of the men he wanted hadn't returned from their own wild-goose chases; others couldn't get away--one was running for Parliament, I think--and so Ashburton, cursing his luck, had about made up his mind to try it alone, when he ran across Jack one day in the club. "'Hello, Stirling! Thought you'd sailed for America.' "'No,' said Jack, 'I go next week. What are you doing here? Thought you had gone to India.' "'Can't get anybody to go with me,' answered Ashburton. "'Where do you go first?' "'To Calcutta by steamer, and then strike in and up to the foot-hills.' "'For how long?' "'About a year. Come with me like a decent man.' "'Can't. Only got money enough to get home, and I don't like climbing.' "'Money hasn't got anything to do with it--you go as my guest. As to climbing, you won't have to climb an inch. I'll leave you at the foot-hills in a bungalow, with somebody to take care of you, and you can stay there until I come back.' "'How long will you be climbing?' "'About two months.' "'When do you start?' "'To-morrow, at daylight.' "'All right, I'll be on board.'