It was now Wednesday in the third week in April.
"Oscar, you were a clever boy and knew more than you were told. You have
asked me no questions. There may be an ugly row before I get out of these
hills. I should not think hard of you if you preferred to leave."
"I enlisted for the campaign--yes?--I shall wait until I am discharged."
And the little man buttoned his coat.
"Thank you, Oscar. In a few days more we shall probably be through with
this business. There's another man coming to get into the game--he
reached Washington yesterday, and we shall doubtless hear of him shortly.
Very likely they are both in the hills tonight. And, Oscar, listen
carefully to what I say."
The soldier drew nearer to Armitage, who sat swinging his legs on the
table in the bungalow.
"If I should die unshriven during the next week, here's a key that opens
a safety-vault box at the Bronx Loan and Trust Company, in New York. In
case I am disabled, go at once with the key to Baron von Marhof,
Ambassador of Austria-Hungary, and tell him--tell him--"
He had paused for a moment as though pondering his words with care; then
he laughed and went on.
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