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Updated: May 22, 2025
They'll prove that he is . But never mind you shan't git nothin' out o' me," and then Gendron relapsed into sudden silence, as though he realized that he had been talking too much. On the afternoon of the next day Dr. Mackey appeared, accompanied by another man, evidently an officer of the guerrillas. His face grew dark as he gazed first at Jack and then at Old Ben and Columbus Washington.
The judge of instruction stopped M. Plantat with a motion of his hand. "Do you know," asked he, "whether the rendezvous at the Hotel Belle Image had ceased?" "I suppose so, sir; I think so." "I am almost sure of it," said Dr. Gendron. "I have often heard it said they know everything at Corbeil that there was a heated explanation between M. de Tremorel and the pretty Parisian lady.
"Not exactly my friend, Jack, but I know him pretty well," answered Dr. Mackey slowly, as if trying to feel his way. "I aint a guerrilla, am I?" put in Pete Gendron eagerly. "N no, he is not a a guerrilla," stammered the surgeon. "There must be some mistake." "I want to be taken to the Confed'rate hospital," went on Pete Gendron.
Instead of taking the high road, they cut across a pathway which ran along beside Mme. de Lanascol's park, and led diagonally to the wire bridge; this was the shortest way to the inn where M. Lecoq had left his slight baggage. As they went along, M. Plantat grew anxious about his good friend, M. Courtois. "What misfortune can have happened to him?" said he to Dr. Gendron.
The violence of the blow was such that the victim fell forward, and in the fall, her forehead struck the end of the table; she thus gave herself the only fatal blow which we have discovered on the head." M. Gendron looked from one to the other of his companions, who exchanged significant glances. Perhaps he suspected the game they were playing.
"You are a guerrilla." "I aint. Dr. Mackey will prove my words. He's a friend o' mine. Aint ye, doc?" There was a peculiar emphasis to the guerrilla's words which made the surgeon shift uneasily from one foot to the other. "If I don't humor Gendron, he may expose me," thought the surgeon dismally. "He knows too much to be made an enemy of." "Is he your friend?" asked Jack.
"Jack, you think you are smart, but you don't know what you are saying," he stormed. "Perhaps I do, Dr. Mackey. One thing I do know you are not to be trusted." "What? This to my face?" "You took the part of Gendron, when you knew he was nothing but a guerrilla and a horse-thief." "I know nothing of the kind. Gendron has a good record behind him. He was shot, and that may have hurt his brain."
What do you say to this honest and worthy young man, who, on the very night of the crime, leaves a wedding where he would have had a good time, to go and buy a hammer, a chisel, and a dirk everything, in short, used in the murder and the mutilation of the body?" Dr. Gendron seemed a little disconcerted at this, but a sly smile overspread M. Plantat's face.
Recent excavations in the Chauvaux Cave revealed two skeletons leaning against the walls in a crouching position, the legs tucked under the body. In the Gendron Cave M. Dupont discovered seventeen skeletons lying in a low, narrow passage, stretched out at full length with the feet toward the wall, and arranged in twos and threes, one above the other.
He went on very rapidly this time, his eye fixed on M. Lecoq's rattan. "Monsieur had an attack of vertigo. All the house was in confusion; everybody except I, lost their heads; it occurred to me to go for a doctor, and I started off for one for Doctor Gendron, whom I knew to be at the chateau, or the doctor near by, or the apothecary it mattered not who.
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