"If you start to run I'll certainly kill you, Monsieur."
"We have met, my dear sir, under unfortunate circumstances. You should
not take it too much to heart about the potato sack. It was the fault of
my dear colleagues. Ah, Armitage, you look rather ill, but I trust you
will harbor no harsh feelings."
Armitage did not look at him; his eyes were upon the prostrate figure of
Chauvenet, who seemed to be regaining his wits. He moaned and opened his
eyes.
"Search him, Claiborne, to make sure. Then get him on his legs and pinion
his arms, and tie the gentlemen together. The bridle on that dead horse
is quite the thing."
"But, Messieurs," began Durand, who was striving to recover his
composure--"this is unnecessary. My friend and I are quite willing to
give you every assurance of our peaceable intentions."
"I don't question it," laughed Claiborne.
"But, my dear sir, in America, even in delightful America, the law will
protect the citizens of another country."
"It will, indeed," and Claiborne grinned, put his revolver into
Armitage's hand, and proceeded to cut the reins from the dead horse.
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