J. Archibald McKackney
and escape. Thanks to a lavish use of money and a frequent change of disguise I succeeded in passing the frontier, and within three days was crossing the English Channel. The European newspapers were ringing with garbled reports of the assault of an anarchist or lunatic upon the person of a certain illustrious ruler, but none of them connected the dastardly incident with the American tourist, J. Archibald McKackney.
At that time there was a keen rivalry in this field of collecting between a New York man named Pillsover and myself. He was, in fact, no more than an imitator, and had begun to seek the whiskers of celebrities through hearing of my success. He was a friend of mine, in a way, and I had often entertained him at my New England country place. After my return from abroad I asked him down to view the trophy shorn from the chin of the European ruler in the manner already described. He tried to conceal his consuming envy, but I could see that he was wretchedly unhappy. His two most notable
