"Good! Now start your friend toward the bungalow."
They set off at a quick pace, soon found the rough driveway, and trudged
along silently, the Servian between his captors.
When they reached the house Armitage flung open the door and followed
Oscar and the prisoner into the long sitting-room.
Armitage lighted a pipe at the mantel, readjusted the bandage on his arm,
and laughed aloud as he looked upon the huge figure of the Servian
standing beside the sober little cavalryman.
"Oscar, there are certainly giants in these days, and we have caught one.
You will please see that the cylinder of your revolver is in good order
and prepare to act as clerk of our court-martial. If the prisoner moves,
shoot him."
He spoke these last words very deliberately in German, and the
Servian's small eyes blinked his comprehension. Armitage sat down on the
writing-table, with his own revolver and the prisoner's knives and pistol
within reach of his available hand. A smile of amusement played over his
face as he scrutinized the big body and its small, bullet-like head.
"He is a large devil," commented Oscar.
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