"I precious nearly was, all the same," I said. "Here, waiter, table d'hote, and a bottle of lager."
"You're dining with me," interrupted Billy.
"In that case," I said, "I'll have a bottle of burgundy instead of the lager."
"Bring two," called out Billy. "And now let's hear all about it," he added, as the waiter slid rapidly away. "Last time I saw you was at that little dust-up we had in Buenos Ayres. D'you remember?"
"I do, Billy," I said. "It was on account of that I went for a health trip to Bolivia."
Billy chuckled. "I gather you didn't exactly find it."
I lit a cigarette, pending the arrival of the hors d'oeuvre. "I found something better than health, Billy," I said. "I found gold."
"Lord!" said Billy. "Where?"
"I don't think it's got a name," I replied. "Anyhow, I didn't wait to find out I was on my own, and the whole country was stiff with Indians. Look here." I pulled up my sleeve and showed him the traces of a very handsome pucker left by a well-directed arrow. "That's one of their visiting cards," I added.
Billy looked at it with the eye of a connoisseur. "You're lucky it wasn't poisoned," he remarked. "What about the gold?"