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Nicholson, Meredith, 1866-1947

"The Port of Missing Men"


In the dusk of starlight Durand saw Zmai dismount and felt the Servian's
big rough hand touch his in passing the bridle of his horse.
"Wait!" said the Servian.
The horse of the unknown paused, neighed again, and refused to go
farther. A man's deep voice encouraged him in low tones. The horses of
Chauvenet's party danced about restlessly, responsive to the nervousness
of the strange beast before them.
"Who goes there?"
The stranger's horse was quiet for an instant and the rider had forced
him so near that the beast's up-reined head and the erect shoulders of
the horseman were quite clearly defined.
"Who goes there?" shouted the rider; while Chauvenet and Durand bent
their eyes toward him, their hands tight on their bridles, and listened,
waiting for Zmai. They heard a sudden rush of steps, the impact of his
giant body as he flung himself upon the shrinking horse; and then a cry
of alarm and rage. Chauvenet slipped down and ran forward with the quick,
soft glide of a cat and caught the bridle of the stranger's horse. The
horseman struggled in Zmai's great arms, and his beast plunged wildly.


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