time I thought nothing of it,
I remember now that he made a peculiar remark as I extended my hand in
leave-taking. "You will come again?" he asked. "Yes, you will come again
some day. I am sure you will; and I shall show you my library and tell
you many things of which you have never dreamed, things so wonderful
that it may be you will not believe me."

I laughingly assured him that I would not only come again, but would be
ready to believe whatever he might choose to tell me of his travels and
adventures.

In the days that followed I became well acquainted with Olaf Jansen,
and, little by little, he told me his story, so marvelous, that its very
daring challenges reason and belief. The old Norseman always expressed
himself with so much earnestness and sincerity that I became enthralled
by his strange narrations.

Then came the messenger's call that night, and within the hour I was at
Olaf Jansen's bungalow.

He was very impatient at the long wait, although after being summoned I
had come immediately to his bedside.

"I must hasten," he exclaimed, while yet he held my hand in greeting.
"I have much to tell you that you know not, and I will trust no one but
you. I fully realize," he went on hurriedly, "that I shall not survive
the night. The time has come to join my fathers in the great sleep."

I adjusted the pillows to make him more comfortable, and assured him
I was glad to be able to serve him in any way possible, for I was
beginning to realize the seriousness of his condition.

The lateness of the hour, the stillness of the surroundings, the uncanny
feeling of being alone with the dying man, together with his weird
story, all combined to make my heart beat fast and loud with a feeling
for which I have no name. Indeed, there were many times that night by
the old Norseman's couch, and there have been many times since, when a
sensation rather than a conviction took possession of my very soul, and
I seemed not only to believe in, but actually see, the strange lands,
the strange people and the strange world of which he told, and to hear
the mighty orchestral chorus of a thousand lusty voices.

For over two hours he seemed endowed with almost superhuman strength,
talking rapidly, and to all appearances, rationally. Finally he gave
into my hands certain data, drawings and crude maps. "These," said he in
conclusion, "I leave in your hands. If I can have your promise to give
them to the world, I shall die happy, bec