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Chapter 82
TELEMACHUS, FRIENDReturning from a hunting trip, I waited at the little town of Los Pinos, in New Mexico, for the south-bound train, which was one hour late. I sat on the porch of the Summit House and discussed the functions of life with Telemachus Hicks, the hotel proprietor. Perceiving that personalities were not out of order, I asked him what species of beast had long ago twisted and mutilated his left ear. Being a hunter, I was concerned in the evils that may befall one in the pursuit of game. "That ear," says Hicks, "is the relic of true friendship." "An accident?" I persisted. "No friendship is an accident," said Telemachus; and I was silent. "The only perfect case of true friendship I ever knew," went on my host, "was a cordial intent between a Connecticut man and a mo
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