Then, having pinioned his arms, they started to cross-examine him. Of course, directly he began to speak in answer to their questions they knew that he was no striker, and presently they let him go. They told him, however, that he had narrowly escaped being shot dead in his tracks, and warned him on no account to attempt to walk back to Santa Fé along the line, lest he should meet some other patrol the members of which might very likely shoot first and challenge afterwards. As a result, the poor chap had to make a wide detour into the desert, and only just managed to reach the “depôt” and scramble into the train as it was on the point of starting.
At Kansas City I had a somewhat disconcerting experience; which, however, was not without its humorous side. I arrived there, after travelling all night, in the early morning after breakfast, and as I was billed to give my first show at a matinée the same day, I was in a bit of a hurry. I was hustling round seeing to the baggage, when an old gent with a long white beard came up to me, accompanied by quite a number of other people, and, beaming at me through his spectacles, inquired:
“Dr. Wilson!” he repeated. “You’ve heard of me, of course? I’m the President of the local Magicians’ Club, and these gentlemen”--indicating his companions by a wave of his hand--“are members of the deputation organised in order to bid you”--here he made a long and impressive pause, and beamed upon all and sundry--“to bid you,” he repeated, “welcome to our city.”
“Much flattered and obliged, I’m sure,” I replied, as each member of the deputation was introduced to me in turn. And each member of the deputation--there were about thirty of them in all--remarked effusively:
Next, the old gentleman who headed the deputation made a speech. He said that he and his friends had heard of my fame, which was indeed world-wide, and that he and they wished me most cordially:
By this time the baggage was loaded, and I was on thorns to be off. But another old gent, who introduced himself as the editor of the _Kansas Magicians’ Magazine_, butted in with yet another speech. He told me that the magicians of the place had booked the front row of the stalls for the coming matinée, and had arranged to entertain me to dinner after the performance, in order to show their appreciation, and to bid me--I knew what was coming by this time: