"And what good would that do?" said Fritz, the swineherd.
"The diary of Hauptmann Fritz Schneider!" repeated Tarzan in a constrained voice.
"I will have nothing to do with it!" said Fritz, and he got up from the wooden block whereon he was sitting and stumped out of the house.
We arranged that I should write to Fritz by that night's mail, on the chance that my announcement of the better news might reach him before he left London.
You may imagine what they thought of poor Keller, when I tell you that they recommended me to write instantly to Fritz in London summoning him to his father's bedside.