"But, Monsieur!" remonstrated the inspector, who did not enjoy
this infringement of his prerogatives; his was the part to
overhaul. "This is--"
"Be still and follow me," and the Englishman went on with the
inventory. "There!" when he had done, "not a dutiable thing
except this German-Scotch whisky, and that is so bad that I give
it to you rather than pay duty. What next? My passports? Here
they are, absolutely flawless, vised by the authorities in
Vienna."
The slips crackled in the fluttering fingers of the inspector.
"They are as you say, Monsieur," he said, returning the permits.
Then he added timidly, "And the gun cases?"
"The gun cases!" The pipe spilled its coal to the floor. "The
gun cases!"
"Yes, Monsieur."
"And why do you wish to look into them?" with agitation.
"Smugglers sometimes fill them with cigars."
"Ah!" The Englishman selected two loaded shells, drew a gun from
the case, threw up the breech and rammed in the shells. Then he
extended the weapon to within an inch of the terrified
inspector's nose. "Now, Monsieur the Spectacles, look in there
and tell me what you see.
Pages:
39
40
41
42
43
44
45
46
47
48
49
50
51
52
53
54
55
56
57
58
59
60
61
62
63