"No," quietly. "I admit that it sounds absurd, yes; but ten years ago they'd have locked up, as insane, a man who said that he could fly. But think of last summer at Paris, at Rheims, at Frankfort; the Continental air was full of flying-machines. Bah! It's pretty difficult to impress the average mind with something new. Why shouldn't we cater to the poetic, the romantic side of man? We've concerns for everything else. The fact is, mediocrity is always standing behind the corner with brickbats for the initiative. Believe me or not, Mr. Jones, but this company exists. The proof is that you have the rug and I have the scars."
"But in these prosaic times!" murmured George, still skeptical.
"Prosaic times!" sniffed Ryanne. "There's one of your brickbats. They swung it at the head of the first printer. Prosaic times! My friend, this is the most romantic and bewildering age humanity has yet seen. There's more romance and adventure going about on wheels and steel-bottoms than ever there was in the days of Drake and the Spanish galleons. There's an adventure lurking round the nearest corner—romance, too. What this organization does is to direct you; after that you have to shift for yourself. But, like a first-rate physical instructor, they never map out more than a man can do. They gave me the rug. Your bones, on such a quest, would have been bleaching upon the banks of the Tigris."
"What the deuce is this company called?" George was enjoying the conversation immensely.
"The United Romance and Adventure Company, Ltd., of London, Paris, and New York."
"Have you any of the company's paper with you?" George repressed his laughter because Ryanne's face was serious enough.
"Unfortunately, no. But if you will give me your banker's address I'll be pleased to forward you the prospectus."
"Knauth, Nachod and Kühne. I am shortly leaving for home. Better send it to New York. I say, suppose a chap buys an adventure that is not up to the mark; can he return it or exchange it for another?"
"No. It's all chance, you know. The rules of the game are steel-bound. We find you an adventure; it's up to you to make good."
"But, once more, suppose a chap gets a little too rough a game, and doesn't turn up for his dividends; what then?"