"Very well. Here I have another chamber with six cartridges: It's
loaded, the cartridges are covered with copper and have detonating
powder at one end. As quick as lightning I put this on, and there
you have the pistol ready to be fired again six times."

"So you have twelve shots?"

"Yes."

"And cartridges to spare?"

"The Doctor gave me all that he had, about sixty, I should think."

"You have enough to face a whole army--"

"Precisely--and in my coat-pocket."

This conversation took place in the banquette of the diligence that
conveyed Dick, Buttons, and the Senator from Florence to Bologna. A
long part of the journey had been passed over. They were among the
mountains.

"Do you expect to use that?" asked the Senator, carelessly.

"I do."

"You believe these stories then?"

"Yes; don't you?"

"Certainly."

"So do I," said Buttons. "I could not get a pistol; but I got this
from an acquaintance."

And he drew from his pocket an enormous bowie-knife.

"Bowie-knives are no good," said the Senator. "Perhaps they may do
if you want to assassinate; but for nothing else. You can't defend
yourself. I never liked it. It's not American. It's not the direct
result of our free institutions."

"What have you then?"

"This," said the Senator.

And he lifted up a crow-bar from the front of the coach.
Brandishing it in the air as easily as an ordinary man would swing a
walking-stick. He looked calmly at his astonished companions.

"You see," said he, "there are several reasons why this is the best
sort of weapon for me. A short knife is no use. A sword is no good,
for I don't know the sword exercise. A gun is worthless; I would fire
it off once and then have to use it as a club. It would then be apt to
break. That would be disagreeable--especially in the middle of a
fight. A stick or club of any kind would be open to the same
objection. What, then, is the weapon for me? Look at me. I am big,
strong, and active. I have no skill. I am brute strength. So a club
is my only weapon--a club that won't break. Say iron, then. There you
have it."

And the Senator swung the ponderous bar around in a way that showed
the wisdom of his choice.

"You are about right," said Buttons. "I venture to say you'll do as
much mischief with that as Dick will with his pistol. Perhaps more.
As for me, I don't expect to do much. Still, if the worst comes,
I'll try to do what I can."

"We may not have to use them," said the Senat