"Your Abysmal Excellency, this man claims to be Thuno Flâtum!" repeated one of the guards, as the figure on the "scootscoot" drew to within a few yards of the sandstone platform.
"Thuno Flâtum! Thuno Flâtum! He claims to be Thuno Flâtum!" I could hear the mob echoing in surprise.
"I am Thuno Flâtum!" avowed the intruder with an angry squeak through the megaphone. "I am Thuno Flâtum!"
In that crucial fraction of a second, while all the world seemed to reel about me, I realized that in an instant I might come crashing down from my new-won eminence! I must act quickly—else all was lost!
I do not know what it was that, in that desperate emergency, put the saving thought into my mind. But my brain was working with the fury of fever, and somehow, goaded by terror, I leapt at the one means of salvation.
"Seize that man! Seize him! Seize him!" I cried, pointing to the newcomer with a swift imitation of anger. "It is a penal offense to impersonate the Dictator!"
"It is a penal offense, a penal offense to impersonate the Dictator!" echoed the multitude.
"But I am not impersonating the Dictator! I am Thuno Flâtum! I am Thuno Flâtum!" insisted the puny figure on the "scootscoot," while his thin right arm shook in my direction in impotent wrath.
"Look at him! Just look at him! He claims to be Thuno Flâtum!" I howled, with a sudden pretense at laughter; and rocked back and forth in feigned mirth. "When did Thuno Flâtum ever wear soiled saffron? When did he appear without the royal rubies? Guards, seize the impostor!"