II
Fellow travelers were always interested in my story.
Occasionally I ran across persons who had heard of my thrilling escape from the bandit camp of Pedro Zamorra. They demanded details. They were so insistent that it would have been a shame to disappoint them. I licked bandit after bandit for their benefit until completely fatigued.
Then, having begun to lose my original pride at the fictitious exploit, I adopted a policy of modest silence. Or I admitted, “That was all bunk!” This seemed to make it the more convincing.
“He’s reticent,” they said, “like all great heroes.”