The first at
last found voice, and he said, "Well, it'd be damned cheap at ten
crowns, and that's the living truth."
His friend--or confederate rather, for such men have no
friends--looked on, still amazed.
"Take up that fellow by his head and his heels," ordered Rudolf.
"Quickly! I suppose you don't want the police to find us here
with him, do you? Well, no more do I. Lift him up."
As he spoke Rudolf turned to knock at the door of No. 19. But
even as he did so Bauer groaned. Dead perhaps he ought to have
been, but it seems to me that fate is always ready to take the
cream and leave the scum. His leap aside had served him well,
after all: he had nearly escaped scot free. As it was, the
bullet, almost missing his head altogether, had just glanced on
his temple as it passed; its impact had stunned, but not killed.
Friend Bauer was in unusual luck that night; I wouldn't have
taken a hundred to one about his chance of life. Rupert arrested
his hand. It would not do to leave Bauer at the house, if Bauer
were likely to regain speech. He stood for a moment, considering
what to do, but in an instant the thoughts that he tried to
gather were scattered again.
"The patrol! the patrol!" hoarsely whispered the fellow who had
not yet spoken.
Pages:
182
183
184
185
186
187
188
189
190
191
192
193
194
195
196
197
198
199
200
201
202
203
204
205
206