unto myself, if not to others," added the old man. And then as he
pressed the ashes down into the bowl of his pipe with his long
emaciated fingers, and watched the little threads of smoke as they
came curling out from under his thick moustache, Paul could only
admit that the gravity of his bearing was inconsistent with a
humorous interpretation of his words.

"You interest me greatly," resumed Henley, after scrutinizing the
singular face before him for several minutes, in a kind of mesmeric
fascination, "and I should like to ask what you mean by the
cultivation of this occult power of which you spoke?"

"It is only to be acquired by the supremest quality of self-control,
as I told you yesterday," answered Ah Ben; "but when once gained, no
man would relinquish it for the gold of a thousand Solomons! You
would have proof of what I tell you? Well, some day perhaps you
will!"

Henley started. The man had read his thoughts. It was the very
question upon his lips.

"You are a mind reader!" cried Paul. "How did you know I was going to
ask you that?"

Ah Ben made no answer; he did not even smile, but continued to gaze
into the fire and blow little puffs of smoke toward the chimney.

"You referred just now to the prize-fighter," Paul resumed after a
few minutes, "but I am going to squelch that argument."