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Updated: May 31, 2025
His surmise proved correct. Mark came quickly up, and held out his hand. He was dressed in Egyptian costume, and with his dark complexion and black eyes might easily have passed as a native. "Ah! Helmar, and you, Osterberg!" he said. "I am glad to see you." Then, as neither took the proffered hand, he drew back. "Why, what's up? Aren't you going to shake hands?"
Well, I never!" cried George in delight, as he grasped the fact it was his friend Osterberg in front of him. "Why, what are you doing here? This is nothing to do with banks!" "And to think I should be with the party who has saved you," Osterberg rattled on, ignoring his friend's questions. "But, George, you are looking ill and not like your old self. What's the matter?"
Osterberg can remain here until we return." Helmar followed his friend over to the consul's office. The doctor left him for a moment outside while he interviewed the arbitrator of his fate. Whilst waiting the result, Helmar could not help thinking of the perfidious Mark. What a viper he had been, and how quickly he had again fallen across his path!
I did not want to rob you of your money, but you gave me the opportunity of borrowing sufficient to take me where I wish to go. At some future date I will return it with interest. Good-bye, and good luck to you. We shall meet again some day. "Mark Arden." Having read and re-read the brief note, Osterberg silently returned it to his friend.
The doctor, true to his promise, furnished Osterberg with a letter to the bank, to which place he at once proceeded. Helmar accompanied him to see how he fared. Their luck was in, the letter secured Charlie a berth as corresponding clerk, and Helmar, satisfied with his friend's success, went at once to the shipping office and took his passage to Alexandria.
However, the expression of the young student's face, usually so kindly, indicated that the altercation had not yet ended. As soon as the debate was over, a general adjournment to the club followed. Osterberg was one of the first to reach it. He found Landauer playing billiards with his companion Maurice. Stepping up to him, he eyed him sternly from head to foot.
Young Osterberg, the leader of the "Ayes," rose to his feet. His remarks were sound and clear, and his arguments, to many, conclusive. After he had occupied the attention of the assembly for nearly twenty minutes, he sat down amidst the plaudits of his own side, to await the speech from the leader of the Opposition.
Darting like a brace of hares through the labyrinth of paths, the two young men kept on. Their pace was terrific, but the sound of feet was still not far behind them. "George," panted Osterberg, as he drew up alongside his friend, "we can't keep this up. Can't we take the scrub and hide?" "Not yet, not yet, keep going, we shall find a place soon."
His friend Osterberg, however, was greatly concerned, and passed many sleepless nights weighing the possibilities of what might happen. Although he was to become a clergyman, and duelling was forbidden him, he nevertheless had plenty of fight in him, and many times wished that he could relieve his friend of the self-imposed risk he was taking on his behalf.
"Well, what news? No, never mind, I read it in your face," he said, as he noticed Charlie's pallor and troubled face. "He is dead?" Osterberg shook his head. "Not as bad as that, thank God, but I fear he cannot live. Dr.
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