"In that case, Bones, I'm with you," said Hamilton; "if you're going to write a book about things that haven't happened to you, there's no limit to its size." "You're bein' a jolly cruel old officer, sir," said Bones, pained by the cold cynicism of his chief. "But I'm very serious, sir. This country is full of material. And everybody says I ought to write a book about it--why, dash it, sir, I've been here nearly two months!" "It seems years," said Hamilton. Bones was perfectly serious, as he had said. He did intend preparing a book for publication, had dreams of a great literary career, and an ultimate membership of the Athenaeum Club belike. It had come upon him like a revelation that such a career called him. The week after he had definitely made up his mind to utilize his gifts in this direction, his outgoing mail was heavier than ever. For to three and twenty English and American publishers, whose names he culled from a handy work of reference, he advanced a business-like offer to prepare for the press a volume "of 316 pages printed in type about the same size as enclosed," and to be entitled: MY WILD LIFE AMONGST CANNIBALS. BY AUGUSTUS TIBBETTS, Lieutenant of Houssas. Fellow of the Royal Geographical Society; Fellow of the Royal Asiatic Society; Member of the Ethnological Society and Junior Army Service Club. Bones had none of these qualifications, save the latter, but as he told himself he'd jolly soon be made a member if his book was a howling success. No sooner had his letters been posted than he changed his mind, and he addressed three and twenty more letters to the publishers, altering the title to: THE TYRANNY OF THE WILDS. Being Some Observations on the Habits and Customs of Savage Peoples. BY AUGUSTUS TIBBETTS (LT.). With a Foreword by Captain Patrick Hamilton. "You wouldn't mind writing a foreword, dear old fellow?" he asked. "Charmed," said Hamilton. "Have you a particular preference for any form?" "Just please yourself, sir," said a delighted Bones, so Hamilton covered two sheets of foolscap with an appreciation which began: "The audacity of the author of this singularly uninformed work is to be admired without necessarily being imitated. Two months' residence in a land which offered many opportunities for acquiring inaccurate data, has resulted in a work which must stand for all time as a monument of murderous effort," etc. Bones read the appreciation very carefully. "Dear old sport," he said, a little troubled, as he reached the end; "this is almost uncomplimentary."