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The intruder passed by to the vacant seat, while the now thoroughly awakened and annoyed Hochwaldian whirled, to find himself looking into a pair of expressionless brown goggles. With a snort of fury, the diplomat struck backward. The glasses and the solemn face behind them dodged smartly.
You'll find our locality very pleasant, Miss Brewster. Three of the other legations are on the same block, not including the Hochwaldian, which is a quarter of a mile down the hill. On our corner is a house where several of the English railroad men live, and across is the Club Amicitia, made up largely of the jeunesse doree, who are mostly pro-American.
I suppose he's really the most important figure in the Caracuna crisis and he hasn't even got here yet. Perhaps our Hochwaldian friends have captured him on the quiet. It would pay 'em, for if there is plague here, he'll certainly trail it down." "Oh, I'm tired of plague," announced Miss Polly. "Bring the others here and let's all go over to the plaza, where it's cool."
Who's left with Miss Brewster?" "Nobody. We must get back." Sherwen's cool voice cut in: "Close together, now. Keep well up. Herr von Plaanden, will you cover us at the end?" "It is the post of honor," said the Hochwaldian. "You've earned it. But for you, they'd have got our colors." The foreigner bowed, and swung his horse toward a Caracunan who had pressed forward a little too near.
Both of the young cricketers had been battered and bruised, though it was nothing, they gleefully averred, to what they had meted out. And Carroll had a nasty- looking knife-thrust in his shoulder. All of them were disheveled, dilapidated, and grimy to the last degree, except the Hochwaldian, who still sat his horse, which he had ridden into the patio.
The most promising ingress appeared to be across the blockade of a robust and much-begilded young man, who was occupying the familiar position of an "end-seat hog," and displaying the full glories of the Hochwaldian dress uniform.
Well back of the mob, he pulled his horse up, and sat watching. The coincidence was unfortunate. It seemed to justify Sherwen's bitter words: "Come to visa his work. There's the Hochwaldian for you!" Forward danced and reeled the "Yanki" baiters below, until they were under the balcony where the little group of Americans sheltered and raged silently.
Through the circle he broke, swinging his mount around beside the shallow doorway before which three Caracunans already lay sprawled, attesting the vigor of the defender's final resistance. Back of the horseman lay half a dozen other figures. The Hochwaldian jerked out his sword and stood, a splendid spectacle.
"Bet the bills smelled of sauerkraut when they reached him," grunted Cluff, striding over to the window of the drawing-room, where the informal conference was being held. "They may have had a Hochwaldian origin," admitted Sherwen. "But it would be difficult to prove." "At least the Hochwald Legation wouldn't shed any tears over a demonstration against us," said Carroll.
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