The
small man looked carefully at my hair. He looked at it for
such a long time, that I began to feel uncomfortable. Suddenly he
bent forward and grabbed my hair with both hands. He pulled at it
until I cried out in pain.
' "I'm sorry I hurt you," said the man. Your hair is a wonderful
colour. But I had to make sure you weren't wearing a wig. I had to
find out if your hair was real."
'Then
he went over to the window. He opened it and
shouted down to the men below that the vacancy was taken.
The red-headed men groaned with disappointment. Then they
began to walk away. In a few minutes, the square was empty.
' "My name," said the small man, is Duncan Ross. You are
now a member of The Red-Headed League. When can you start
the job?"
' "Well, that's going to be difficult," I replied. "I have a
business already.