"Let me pass," he said in his difficult German.
"It is a long wall; there should be no difficulty in passing. This
country is much freer than Servia--yes?" and Oscar's tone was pleasantly
conversational.
Zmai put his hand on the wall and prepared to vault.
"A moment only, comrade. You seem to be in a hurry; it must be a business
that brings you from the mountains--yes?"
"I have no time for you," snarled the Servian. "Be gone!" and he shook
himself impatiently and again put his hand on the wall.
"One should not be in too much haste, comrade;" and Oscar thrust Zmai
back with his finger-tips.
The man yielded and ran a few steps out of the clump of trees and sought
to escape there. It was clear to Oscar that Zmai was not anxious to
penetrate closer to the Claiborne house, whose garden extended quite
near. He met Zmai promptly and again thrust him back.
"It is a message--yes?" asked Oscar.
"It is my affair," blurted the big fellow. "I mean no harm to you."
"It was you that tried the knife on my body. It is much quieter than
shooting. You have the knife--yes?"
The little soldier whipped out his revolver.
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