Across America by Motor-cycle

by C. K. Shepherd

Self. "Come right in."

(Enter Armenian.)

Self. "What, again? Got the 500?"

Armenian. "Grieved to trouble you vonce more, Captin Sheffer, R.A.F., but all ze money I 'af in ze world vos von 'undred twenty-five dollar. Me vaire poor man, Capt——"

Self. "Yes, I've heard you say so. I believe you. Now we're both liars."

Armenian. "Ah no, you insult me, Captin Sheffer, R.A.F. I am poor, but I am 'onorable man. I tell always ze truth. Zat vos all I 'af in all ze vorld."

Self. "Look here, Mister—I don't know what your name is, but I guess you're a Hebrew of some kind——"

Armenian. "My name is Mistaire Karachan, and I come from Armenia."

Self (aside—"I might have guessed it."). "Well, Mr. Karachan, I'll take your word for it. Give me 125 right now and you can take the machine away with you. She's outside on the pavement. But mind, I shall never want to see your face again."