Vietnam or Thailand ? Vote for the TOP Country of the Week !
Updated: June 26, 2025
In the midst of his harangue, the hand of William Spantz was arrested in one of its most emphatic gestures. A look of wonder and uncertainty came into his face as he gazed, transfixed, over the heads of his hearers in the direction of the Tower. Peter Brutus was approaching, at the head of a group of aliens, all armed and marching in ominously good order.
I'm not looking for princes. I've seen hundreds of 'em in all parts of the world." "Well, you should see Prince Robin before you scoff. He's the most wonderful little man in all the world." "I've heard of nothing but him, my good Mr. Spantz. He's seven years old and he looks like his mother and he's got a jewelled sword and all that sort of thing. I daresay he's a nice little chap.
They were Reds of the most dangerous type silent, voiceless, crafty men and women who built well without noise, and who gave out nothing to the world from which they expected to take so much. The nominal leader was William Spantz, he who had a son in the Prince's household, Julius Spantz, the Master-of-arms.
Spantz," he hastened to say, as if a defence were necessary, "please don't get it into your head that I'm thinking ill of the Prince. I daresay he's a fine little chap and I'm sorry he's er lost his parents." Spantz laughed, a soft, mirthless gurgle that caused Truxton to wonder why he had made the effort at all.
This, then, was the "old man," and he was not William Spantz. Unlike Spantz in every particular was this man who eyed him so darkly, so coldly. Here was a highborn man, a man whose very manners bespoke for him years at court, a life spent in the upper world, not among the common people. Truxton found himself returning the stare with an interest that brought results.
It looks better every minute." He was whistling gaily as he entered the little shop, ready to give a cheery greeting to old Spantz and to make him a temporising offer for the broadsword. But it was not Spantz who stood behind the little counter. Truxton flushed hotly and jerked off his hat. The girl smiled. "I beg pardon," he exclaimed. "I I'm looking for Mr. Spantz I " "He is out. Will you wait?
No amount of bribing or browbeating could move the confounded Englishman from his stand. He was willing to take him anywhere else, but never again would he risk a personally conducted tour into hot waters royal. Mr. King resigned himself to a purely business call at the shop of Mr. Spantz.
The sneer on Anna Cromer's face deepened. "She will bungle it," came in an angry hiss from her lips. Olga's lids were lifted. Her dark eyes looked straight into those of the older woman. "No," she said quietly, her body relaxing, "I shall not bungle it." William Spantz had been watching her narrowly, even suspiciously. Now his face cleared. "She will not fail," he announced calmly.
Spantz was silent until she was gone. "You want the broadsword, eh?" he asked, moderating his tone considerably. "It's a rare old " "I'll give you a hundred dollars-not another cent," interrupted King, riot yet over his resentment. There followed a long and irritating argument, at the conclusion of which Mr. King became the possessor of the weapon at his own price.
"I thought you might." "I've had a glimpse of the swells, my good friend." "It's all the good you'll get of it," said Spantz gruffly. "I daresay you're right. Clean that sword up a bit for me, and I'll drop in to-morrow and get it. Here's sixty gavvos to bind the bargain. The rest on delivery. Good day, Mr. Spantz." "Good day, Mr. King." "How do you happen to know my name?"
Word Of The Day
Others Looking