the heights. The only use I have for a mountain is to look
at it."

Then Baumgarten launched into a very interesting account of mountain
dangers he had passed through. I found him a most entertaining talker,
almost as fascinating as Johnson himself. He told me he was from
Hanover, but he had been educated in Great Britain, which accounted for
his perfect English.

"What hotel are you at?" he asked, as the band ceased playing.

"I am staying at the Post," I answered. "And you?"

"I am at the Adler. You must come to dine with me some evening, and I
will make it even by dining with you. We can thus compare _table
d'hotes_."

Baumgarten improved on acquaintance in spite of his foppishness in
dress. I almost forgot Johnson until one day I was reminded of him one
day by Baumgarten saying, "I leave to-night for Innsbruck."

"Innsbruck? Why, that's where Johnson is. You ought to meet him. He's
an awfully good fellow. A little careless about his clothes, that's
all."

"I should like to meet him. I know no one in Innsbruck. Do you happen
to know the name of his hotel?"

"I do not. I don't even know Johnson's first name. But I'll write you a
note of introduction on my card, and if you should come across him,
give him my regards."

Baumgarten accepted the card with thanks, and we parted.

Next day, being warm, I sat on a bench in the shade listening to the
music. Now that Baumgarten had gone, I was meditating on his strange
resemblance to Johnson, and remembering things. Someone sat down beside
me, but I paid no attention to him. Finally he said: "This seems to be
a very good band."

I started at the sound of his voice, and looked at him too much
astonished to reply.

He wore a moustache, but no whiskers, and a green Tyrolese felt hat
with a feather in it. An alpenstock leaned against the bench beside
him, its iron point in the gravel. He wore knickerbockers; in fact, his
whole appearance was that of the conventional mountaineer-tourist. But
the voice! And the expression of the eyes!

"What did you say?"

"I said the band is very good."

"Oh, yes. Quite so. It's expensive, and it ought to be good. I'm
helping to pay for it. By the way, you arrived this morning, I take
it?"

"I came last night."

"Oh, indeed. And you depart in a few days for Innsbruck?"

"No, I go to Salzburg when I leave here."

"And your name isn't Johnson--or--or Baumgarten, by any chance?"

"It is not."

"You come neither from Chica