ure relaxed; the fierce light in his eyes gave way to a gleam of humor and he laughed long and loud. "Your face-your face, Claiborne; it's funny. It's too funny for any use. When your teeth show it's something ghastly. For God's sake go in there and wash your face!" He made a light in his own room and plied Claiborne with towels, while he continued to break forth occasionally in fresh bursts of laughter. When they went into the hall both men were grave. "Claiborne-" Armitage put out his hand and Claiborne took it in a vigorous clasp. and "You don't know who I am or what I am; and I haven't got time to tell you now. It's a long story; I have much to do, but I swear to you, Claiborne, that my hands are clean; that the game I am playing is no affair of my own, but a big thing that I have pledged myself to carry through. I want you to ride down there in the valley and keep Marhof quiet for a few hours; tell him I know more of what's going on in Vienna than he does, and that if he will only sit in a rocking-chair and tell you fairy stories till morning, we can all be happy. Is it a bargain-or-must I still hang your head down the well till I get through ?" "Marhof may go to the devil! He's a lot more mysterious than even you, 'Armitage. These fellows that brought me up here to kill me in the belief that I was you can not be friends of Marhof's cause." "They are not; I assure you they are not! They are blackguards of the blackest dye." "I believe you, Armitage.” "Thank you. Now your horse is at the door-run along like a good fellow." Armitage dived into his room, caught up a cartridge belt and reappeared buckling it on. "Oscar!" he yelled, "bring in that coffee-with cups for two." He kicked off his boots and drew on light shoes and leggings. "Light marching orders for the rough places. Confound that buckle." He rose and stamped his feet to settle the shoes. "Your horse is at the door; that rascal Oscar will take off the blanket for you. There's a bottle of fair whisky in the cupboard, if you'd like a nip before starting. Bless me! I forgot the coffee! There on the table, Os car, and never mind the chairs," he added as Oscar came in with a tin pot and the cups on a piece of plank. "I'm taking the rifle, Oscar; and be sure those revolvers are loaded with the real goods." There was a great color in Armitage's face as he strode about preparing to leave. His eyes danced with excitement, and between the sentences that he jerked out half to himself he whistled a few bars from a comic opera that was making a record run on Broadway. His steps rang out vigorously from the bare pine floor. "Watch the windows, Oscar; you may forgive a general anything but a surprise-isn't that so, Claiborne ?— and those fellows must be pretty mad by this time. Excuse the coffee service, Claiborne. We always pour the sugar from the paper bag―original package, you understand. And see if you can't find Captain Claiborne a hat, Oscar-" With a tin-cup of steaming coffee in his hand he sat on the table dangling his legs, his hat on the back of his head, the cartridge belt strapped about his waist over a brown corduroy hunting-coat. He was in a high mood, and chaffed Oscar as to the probability of their breakfasting another morning. "If we die, Oscar, it shall be in a good cause!" |