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Nicholson, Meredith, 1866-1947

"The Port of Missing Men"

"
"His tastes are democratic. In Montana he is quite popular."
Durand flung away his cigarette and laughed suddenly.
"Has it occurred to you that this whole affair is decidedly amusing? Here
we are, in one of the free American states, about to turn a card that
will dethrone a king, if we are lucky. And here is a man we are trying to
get out of the way--a man we might make king if he were not a fool! In
America! It touches my sense of humor, my dear Jules!"
An exclamation from Zmai arrested them. The Servian jerked up his horse
and they were instantly at his side. They had reached a point near the
hunting preserve in the main highway. It was about half-past one o'clock,
an hour at which Virginia mountain roads are usually free of travelers,
and they had been sending their horses along as briskly as the uneven
roads and the pace of Zmai's laggard beast permitted.
The beat of a horse's hoofs could be heard quite distinctly in the road
ahead of them. The road tended downward, and the strain of the ascent was
marked in the approaching animal's walk; in a moment the three men heard
the horse's quick snort of satisfaction as it reached leveler ground;
then scenting the other animals, it threw up its head and neighed
shrilly.


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