“No you don’t!” I said. “You’ll stay here and be good. Because of my great modesty I am the one who will be away. I can’t listen to my own praises. You, Freak, will tell him yarns about my powers as a Spookist, you will tell him that never before was there such a Spookist, never——”
“But I know nothing about your beastly spooking,” Freeland objected.
“Oh yes, you do! You know how I learnt the occult secrets of the Head-hunting Waa Tribe, and——”
“The WHO?” Freeland interrupted.
“The Head-hunting Waas in Burma,” I repeated. “I got this scar on my forehead from them, you know, when they were trying to scalp me.”
“You old liar!” said Pa. “I know how you got that scar. It was on the Siamese side in ’09——”
“Shut up, Pa!” I said. “I’m only asking Freak to prepare the ground. I want to make another convert, and once we’ve got the blighter on the string I’ll make him dance all right.”
“I’m sure it’s all beyond me,” said Uncle Gallup plaintively; “I’m all mixed up between you and the Spook, anyway.”
Freeland was looking at me strangely. “You’ll make him dance, will you?” he said.
“I mean, of course,” I corrected myself hastily, “the Spook will make him dance.”