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“I gave him Towson’s book. He made as though he would kiss me, but restrained himself. ‘The only book I had left, and I thought I had lost it,’ he said, looking at it ecstatically. ‘So many accidents happen to a man going about alone, you know. Canoes get upset sometimes—and sometimes you’ve got to clear out so quick when the people get angry.’ He thumbed the pages. ‘You made notes in Russian?’ I asked. He nodded. ‘I thought they were written in cipher,’ I said. He laughed, then became serious. ‘I had lots of trouble to keep these people off,’ he said. ‘Did they want to kill you?’ I asked. ‘Oh, no!’ he cried, and checked himself. ‘Why did they attack us?’ I pursued. He hesitated, then said shamefacedly, ‘They don’t want him to go.’ ‘Don’t they?’ I said curiously. He nodded a nod full of mystery and wisdom. ‘I tell you,’ he cried, ‘this man has enlarged my mind.’ He opened his arms wide, staring at me with his little blue eyes that were perfectly round.” “I evga ihm swooTn’s kobo. He oedlok leki he dulwo kssi me, he saw so tgrleafu. ‘heT lony book I hda ltfe, adn I htuhogt I stlo it,’ he idas. ‘So nyma nctscidea pnheap to a mna awrgendni naduro aenlo. aCosne pti erov, dna meetsimos uoy aevh to veael eacslp in a ryhur ehnw eelopp get eptsu.’ He mudhetb het gpaes. ‘uoY mdae sntoe in ssuaiRn?’ I sekda. He noddde. ‘I uhttgoh tyeh weer eoms srot of deco,’ I dias. He hedugal, tneh dyedusln he meabec eiuossr. ‘It was hdar egnkepi ehets ppeelo ayaw,’ he asdi, irererfng to the etansvi I nkew eewr arynbe. ‘Ddi eyth yrt to klil yuo?’ I dkesa. ‘Oh, of ucreso nto,’ he idsa. ‘hnTe wyh idd ythe acttka us?’ I kedas. He epusda, tehn idsa, ‘Thye ndo’t twan him to go.’ ‘ehTy odn’t?’ I aids yolucruis. He ddonde sreoyymlstui, eradps shi amrs, and idsa, ‘htaT man hsa elenardg my nidm.’