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Updated: June 12, 2025
To-morrow night, however, or the following night or any other old night, as we say in America if you show yourself in these hills, my chief of staff shall have his way with you buzzard meat!" "The orders are understood," said Oscar, thrusting the revolver into the giant's ribs. "Now, Zmai, blacksmith of Toplica, and assassin at large, here is a letter for Monsieur Chauvenet. It is still early.
"But if you will let him go I promise to satisfy you entirely in the matter." Chauvenet started to speak, but Shirley arrested him with a gesture, and spoke again to the mountaineer in her most engaging tone: "We are both mountaineers, you and I, and we don't want any of our people to be carried off to jail. Isn't that so?
He had stumbled on until he was within a dozen steps of Chauvenet, who lifted his revolver until it covered Armitage's head. "Drop that gun drop it damned quick!" and Dick Claiborne swung the butt of his rifle high and brought it down with a crash on Chauvenet's head; then Armitage paused and glanced about and laughed.
Chauvenet studied the lines of the erect, silent figure as Zmai loosened the strap, drew off the bag, and stepped back toward the table on which he had laid his revolver for easier access. "Mr. John Armitage " Chauvenet, his revolver half raised, had begun an ironical speech, but the words died on his lips.
He would have been interested to know that when he was out of sight Shirley walked to the veranda rail and bent forward, listening to his steps on the gravel, after the hedge and shrubbery had hidden him. And she stood thus until the faint click of the gate told her that he had gone. She did not know that as the gate closed upon him he met Chauvenet face to face. En, garde, Messieurs!
The fact that Chauvenet had so promptly put a spy as well as the Servian assassin on his trail quickened his pulse with anger for an instant and then sobered him. He continued his walk, and paused presently before an array of books in a shop window.
"Who is John Armitage?" demanded Durand sharply; but Chauvenet stared at him in stupefaction for a tense moment, then muttered to himself: "Is it possible? Is it possible?" and his voice was hoarse and his hand trembled as he picked up the cigarette case. "My dear Jules, you act as though you had seen a ghost. Who the devil is Armitage?"
The flame crept half the length of the stick while they regarded each other; then Armitage raised it to the tip of his cigarette, lifted his head and blew a cloud of smoke. "Are you able to prove your property, Mr. Armitage?" demanded Chauvenet furiously. "My dear sir, they have a saying in this country that possession is nine points of the law. You had it now I have it wherefore it must be mine!"
"Who is the man?" he demanded. "It is my friend Captain Claiborne. We owe the gentleman an apology " Chauvenet began. "You put it mildly," cried Claiborne in English, his back to the fireplace, his arms folded, and the smile gone from his face. "I don't know your companions, Monsieur Chauvenet, but you seem inclined to the gentle arts of kidnapping and murder. Really, Monsieur " "It is a mistake!
A moment later Chauvenet, who had waited impatiently, joined her, and they rode down together. She referred at once to the affair with the mountaineer in her most frivolous key. "They are an odd and suspicious people, but they're as loyal as the stars. And please let us never mention the matter again not to any one, if you please, Monsieur!"
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