hissed in the giant's ear:

"You are a Servian: it is an ugly race."

And the Servian cursed him in a fierce growl.

"We expected you; you are a bad hand with the knife," grunted Oscar, and
feeling the bellows-like chest beside him expand, as though in
preparation for a renewal of the fight, he suddenly wrenched himself free
of the Servian's grasp, leaped away a dozen paces to the shelter of a
great pine, and turned, revolver in hand.

"Throw up your hands," he yelled.

The Servian fired without pausing for aim, the shot ringing out sharply
through the wood. Then Oscar discharged his revolver three times in quick
succession, and while the discharges were still keen on the air he drew
quickly back to a clump of underbrush, and crept away a dozen yards to
watch events. The Servian, with his eyes fixed upon the tree behind which
his adversary had sought shelter, grew anxious, and thrust his head
forward warily.

Then he heard a sound as of some one running through the wood to the left
and behind him, but still the man he had grappled on the horse made no
sign. It dawned upon him that the three shots fired in front of him had
been a signal, and in alarm he turned toward the gate, but a voice near
at hand called loudly, "Oscar!" and repeated the name several times.

Behind the Servian the little soldier answered sharply in English:

"All steady, sir!"

The use of a strange tongue added to the Servian's bewilderment, and he
fled toward the gate, with Oscar hard after him. Then Armitage suddenly
leaped out of the shadows directly in his path and stopped him with a
leveled revolver.

"Easy work, Oscar! Take the gentleman's gun and be sure to find his
knife."

The task was to Oscar's taste, and he made quick work of the Servian's
pockets.

"Your horse was a good despatch bearer. You are all sound, Oscar?"

"Never better, sir. A revolver and two knives--" the weapons flashed in
the moonlight as he held them up.

"Good! Now start your friend toward the bungalow."

They set off at a quick pace, soon found the rough driveway, and trudged
along silently, the Servian between his captors.

When they reached the house Armitage flung open the door and followed
Oscar and the prisoner into the long sitting-room.

Armitage lighted a pipe at the mantel, readjusted the bandage on his arm,
and laughed aloud as he looked upon the huge figure of the Servian
standing beside the sober little cavalryman.

"Oscar, there are ce