"In
America such amiable scoundrels as you are given the freedom of cities,
and little children scatter flowers in their path. You ought to write for
the funny papers, Monsieur."
"I trust your wounds are not serious, my dear Armitage--"
Armitage, sitting on a boulder, turned his eyes wearily upon Durand,
whose wrists Claiborne was knotting together with a strap. The officer
spun the man around viciously.
"You beast, if you address Mr. Armitage again I'll choke you!"
Chauvenet, sitting up and staring dully about, was greeted ironically by
Durand:
"Prisoners, my dearest Jules; prisoners, do you understand? Will you
please arrange with dear Armitage to let us go home and be good?"
Claiborne emptied the contents of Durand's pockets upon the ground and
tossed a flask to Armitage.
"We will discuss matters at the bungalow. They always go to the nearest
farm-house to sign the treaty of peace. Let us do everything according to
the best traditions."
A moment later Oscar ran in from the direction of the gap, to find the
work done and the party ready to leave.
"Where is the Servian?" demanded Armitage.
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