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MacGrath, Harold, 1871-1932

"The Puppet Crown"

But he waited in vain for other steps. He cursed the
serving maid for the fright, disposed of the ladder, and sought
the street. He directed his steps toward Stuler's.
"The pig of an Englishman was deeper than I thought. In the gun
barrels, the gun barrels! If I had not wanted to play they would
have been there yet! A hundred thousand crowns!"
It had ceased to rain, and a frost was congealing the moisture
under foot. On the way back to Stuler's Johann slipped and fell
several times; but he was impervious to pain, bruises were
nothing. He was rich! He laughed; and from time to time thrust
his hand into his vest to convince himself that he was not
dreaming. To whom should he sell? To the Osians? To the duchess?
To the king that was to be? Who would pay quickest the hundred
thousand crowns? He knew. Aye, two hundred thousand would not be
too much. The Englishman would send for the certificates, but
his agent would not find them. The abduction? He would carry it
through as he had promised. It was five thousand crowns in
addition to his hundred thousand. He was rich! He shook his hand
toward the inky sky, toward the palace, toward all that
signified the past .


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