So ends the story of the strange and evil experiments of the

Invisible Man. And if you would learn more of him you must go to a

little inn near Port Stowe and talk to the landlord. The sign of

the inn is an empty board save for a hat and boots, and the name is

the title of this story. The landlord is a short and corpulent

little man with a nose of cylindrical proportions, wiry hair, and a

sporadic rosiness of visage. Drink generously, and he will tell you

generously of all the things that happened to him after that time,

and of how the lawyers tried to do him out of the treasure found

upon him.

When they found they couldn't prove who's money was which, I'm

blessed," he says, "if they didn't try to make me out a blooming

treasure trove! Do I look like a Treasure Trove? And then a

gentleman gave me a guinea a night to tell the story at the Empire

Music 'All--just to tell 'em in my own words--barring one."

And if you want to cut off the flow of his reminiscences abruptly,

you can always do so by asking if there weren't three manuscript

books in the story. He admits there were and proceeds to explain,

with asseverations that everybody thinks he has 'em! But bless you!

he hasn't. "The Invisible Man it was took 'em off to hide 'em when

I cut and ran for Port Stowe. It's that Mr. Kemp put people on with

the idea of my having 'em."

And then he subsides into a pensive state, watches you furtively,

240