All of these thoughts raced through Clive Folliot's mind in the seconds during which the scene remained frozen.
"Neville!" Clive shouted.
The writing man raised his head and looked Clive Folliot directly in the eye.
Simultaneously he raised a gleaming American Navy Colt revolver and pointed it at Clive's chest.
"I fear you are mistaken, Major Clive Folliot," the man hissed.
Clive Folliot stared aghast into the countenance of a perfect stranger.
SELECTIONS
FROM THE SKETCHBOOK
OF MAJOR CLIVE FOLLIOT
The following drawings are from Major Clive Folliot's private sketchbook, which was mysteriously left on the doorstep of The London Illustrated Recorder and Dispatch, the newspaper that provided financing for his expedition. There was no explanation accompanying the parcel, save for an enigmatic inscription in the hand of Major Folliot himself.
At last, a brief moment of respite! This whirlwind of an adventure has reached a state of relative calm, and I intend to use this much appreciated time to document, as precisely as possible, the details of my extraordinary exploits in the confines of the dungeon.
My recollections of the many events that have transpired are so vivid that I feel compelled to put them down on paper. Who knows when I shall have the chance again?
Phlip Jose Farmer, The Black Tower
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