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Updated: May 13, 2025
'Burton-Walen knows all the crowned heads of Europe intimately. It's his hobby. 'Well, there's the whole outfit for you exceptin' my Lord Marshalton, né Mankeltow, an' me. All active murderers specially the Law Lord or accessories after the fact. And what do they hand you out for that, in this country? 'Twenty years, I believe, was my reply. He reflected a moment.
Zigler," he said, "will you tell us what steps you took to bring about the death of the first accused?" I told him. He wanted to know specially whether I'd stretched first accused before or after he had fired at Mankeltow. Mankeltow testified he'd been shot at, and exhibited his neck as evidence. It was scorched. "Now, Mr. Walen," says Lord Lundie.
I made out a fairy-story of me being wearied of the war, and having pushed the gun at them these last three months in the hope they'd capture it and let me go home. That tickled 'em to death. They made me say it three times over, and laughed like kids each time. But half the British are kids; specially the older men. My Captain Mankeltow was less of it than the others.
'Times I'd feel I was talking with real live citizens, and times I'd feel I'd struck the Beef Eaters in the Tower. "How? Well, this way. I was telling my Captain Mankeltow what Van Zyl had said about the British being all Chamberlains when the old man saw him back from hospital four days ahead of time. "'Oh, damn it all! he says, as serious as the Supreme Court. 'It's too bad, he says.
Zigler took a holt of the proposition. She understood Peters from the word "go." There wasn't any house-party; only fifteen or twenty folk. A full house is thirty-two, Tommy tells me. 'Guess we must be near on that to-night. In the smoking-room here, my Lord Marshalton Mankeltow that was introduces me to this Walen man with the nose. He'd been in the War too, from start to finish.
"We therefore commit their bodies to the air," he says, an' puts his cap on. "The deep the deep," says Walen. "It's just twenty-three miles to the Channel." "Poor chaps! Poor chaps!" says Mankeltow. "We'd have had 'em to dinner if they hadn't lost their heads. I can't tell you how this distresses me, Laughton." "Well, look at here, Arthur," I says.
He was Captain Mankeltow my Royal British Artillery captain that blew up my gun in the war, an' then tried to bury me against my religious principles . Ya-as. His father died and he got the lordship. That was about all he got by the time that your British death-duties were through with him. So he said I'd oblige him by hiring his ranch.
That and my enthoosiasm as an inventor had led me to the existing crisis; but I couldn't expect this Captain Mankeltow to regard the proposition that way. There I sat, the rankest breed of unreconstructed American citizen, caught red-handed squirting hell at the British Army for months on end. I tell you, Sir, I wished I was in Cincinnatah that summer evening. I'd have compromised on Brooklyn.
Walen read out their last observations, and Mankeltow asked questions, and Lord Lundie sort o' summarised, and I looked at the photos in the album. 'J'ever see a bird's-eye telephoto-survey of England for military purposes? It's interestin' but indecent like turnin' a man upside down. None of those close-range panoramas of forts could have been taken without my Rush Silencer.
I knew this Captain Mankeltow by sight, of course, and, considering what sort of a man with the hoe he was, I thought he'd done right well against my Zigler. But nothing epoch-making. "Next morning at the usual hour I waited on the General, and old Van Zyl come along with some of the boys. Van Zyl didn't hang round the Zigler much as a rule, but this was his luck that day.
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