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Literary Lapses
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Stephen Leacock
49
"Say,
here's
a
grand
story,"
he
burst
out
as
soon
as
I
came
in;
"it's
great!
most
fascinating
thing
I
ever
read.
Wait
till
I
read
you
some
of
it.
I'll
just
tell
you
what
has
happened
up
to
where
I
am--you'll
easily
catch
the
thread
of
it--and
then
we'll
finish
it
together."
I
wasn't
feeling
in
a
very
responsive
mood,
but
I
saw
no
way
to
stop
him,
so
I
merely
said,
"All
right,
throw
me
your
thread,
I'll
catch
it."
"Well,"
Sinclair
began
with
great
animation,
"this
count
gets
this
letter...."
"Hold
on,"
I
interrupted,
"what
count
gets
what
letter?"
"Oh,
the
count
it's
about,
you
know.
He
gets
this
letter
from
this
Porphirio."
"From
which
Porphirio?"
"Why,
Porphirio
sent
the
letter,
don't
you
see,
he
sent
it,"
Sinclair
exclaimed
a
little
impatiently--"sent
it
through
Demonio
and
told
him
to
watch
for
him
with
him,
and
kill
him
when
he
got
him."
"Oh,
see
here!"
I
broke
in,
"who
is
to
meet
who,
and
who
is
to
get
stabbed?"
"They're
going
to
stab
Demonio."
"And
who
brought
the
letter?"
"Demonio."
"Well,
now,
Demonio
must
be
a
clam!
What
did
he
bring
it
for?"
"Oh,
but
he
don't
know
what's
in
it,
that's
just
the
slick
part
of
it,"
and
Sinclair
began
to
snigger
to
himself
at
the
thought
of
it.
"You
see,
this
Carlo
Carlotti
the
Condottiere...."
"Stop
right
there,"
I
said.
"What's
a
Condottiere?"
"It's
a
sort
of
brigand.
He,
you
understand,
was
in
league
with
this
Fra
Fraliccolo...."
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