"What's the trouble, Kopf?" demanded the newcomers.
"This fellow accuses me of being a spy and threatens to break my
head."
"O! break your head, is it? Let us see. Come, brothers; out with
this fellow."
Maurice saw that they were about to charge him, and his hand
went to his hip pocket and rested on the butt of the revolver
which the Colonel had given him. "Gentlemen," he said, quietly,
"I have no discussion with you. I have a pistol in my pocket,
and I'm rather handy with it. I desire to talk to this man, and
talk to him I will. Return to your tables; the affair doesn't
concern you."
The intended assault did not materialize. They scowled, but
retired a few paces. They saw the movement toward the hip pocket,
and they noted the foreign twist of the tongue. Moreover, they
did not like the angle of the speaker's jaws. They shuffled,
looked questioningly at one another, and, as if all of a single
mind, went slowly back to their chairs. Kopf grew pale. Indeed,
his pallor was out of all proportion with the affair, which
Maurice took to be no more than a comedy.
"Brothers," he said, huskily, "he will not dare.
Pages:
238
239
240
241
242
243
244
245
246
247
248
249
250
251
252
253
254
255
256
257
258
259
260
261
262