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Updated: May 24, 2025
He was conscious of brown hands clutching at the cricketer, to drag him away. He himself seized the cockney's legs and braced for that absurd and deadly tug of war. Then Von Plaanden's saber descended, and he was able to haul Galpy back into safety. The situation was desperate now. Mr. Brewster was pinned against the wall and disarmed, but still fighting with fist and foot.
To Von Plaanden's indignant disgust, his military splendor was seriously impaired by a huge "hickey" over his left eye, the memento of a well-aimed rock. Cluff had broken a finger and sprained his wrist. Mr. Brewster was anxious to know if any one had seen two teeth of his on the pavement or whether he was to look for later digestive indications of their whereabouts.
The Dutch diplomats, who are not as diplomatic in speech as I am, would tell you, if there were any of them left here to tell anything, that Von Plaanden's intrigues brought on the present break with them. So there you have a brief, but reliable 'History of Our Times in the Island Republic of Caracuna." "Highly informative and improving to the untutored mind," Miss Brewster complimented him.
"Well, good God," said the other sharply, "somebody's got to teach you! What do you suppose would be the result of your slapping Von Plaanden's face?" "Whatever it may be, I am ready. I will fight him with any weapons, and gladly." "Oh, yes; gladly! Fun for you, all right. But suppose you think of others a little." "Afraid of being involved yourself?" smiled Carroll.
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