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Across the Cameroons

Chapter 3 -Caught Red-handed

Word Count: 2193    |    Released on: 06/12/2017

n Braid, the head-gamekeeper, was also out that night, keeping watch in a different part of the estate. A well-known gang of poachers had been re

f his coat turned up, and carried his gun under his arm

stealthily through the woods. Without a moment's thought he dropped flat upon his face, and lay close as a hare, concealed in a clump of bracken. From this posi

ket, put it to his lips, and was about to sound the alarm which would bring his father a

ied in his hand--not a gun--but no more formidable a weapon than a

e out the figure of Captain von Hardenberg silhouetted against the light in the hall. Jim had no particular desire to eavesdrop. Still, as we know, he disliked and

t forward a little towards him. They met a few yards from where Jim Braid was h

ere," said he. "Can'

," answered the other. "My interest is increasing d

id von Hardenberg. "And

and overhearing the consultations of those who are suppose to govern these sleepy, fog-begotten islands. You are paid from Berlin, and you are paid to pay me. And what do you do with the money? Gamble. In a word, you play cards and lose money which by right is mine, which I--not you--have earned. Then you beseech me to hold my tongue, promisi

or some moments. Then he sp

im that I was four thousand pounds in debt to a money-lender, and that, if I couldn't pay, you would come down upon me. I suppose you d

e least idea,"

denberg, "that he would cu

ing his hat well back upon his head, he t

ou have embezzled Government money. I have given the Wilhelmst

answered von Hardenb

ther cried. "The Wilhelmstrasse will be

grasped the m

said he. "Can y

can. B

me getting. You had better go back to London. I promise to call at your

rlin to know that in a fight against a Prussian military attaché he would stand but a poor chance. However, he was cunning enough to point out to von Hardenberg that the Wilhelmstrasse might think that the services of Peter Klein might po

German again. But, that night--or, rather, early the following morning--when he went to bed, he thought over the matter for some time, and ha

he ground a series of hurdles to keep the cattle from th

k, Jim?" ask

s cap. "These are the old hurdles

said the Judge, indicating the c

handy tool, and sh

han Captain von Hardenberg brushed his way through some thickets near at hand, and approached the young gam

would you mind lend

t, sir," said Braid, "but I sh

other. And taking the unwieldy tool from Jim

as if to satisfy himself that he was not observed. Then he thrust the crowbar down a rabbit-hole, the mou

th a cigar between his lips. He had taken off his dress-coat and put on an old Norfolk jacket. On his feet he wore long gum-boots, into which he had tucked h

out a sound he passed out, walked quickly down the passage, and descended the back stairs to the kitchen. With nerv

led straight to the bungalow. He had some difficulty in finding the rabbit-hole in which he had hidden the crowbar, and only succeeded in doing

alow. With all his strength he drove the crowbar between the

urprised to see that the Judge had again left his cash-box on the desk. The cash-box

infrequently provided with such things. After several futile attempts he succeeded in opening the third drawer in t

cited that he spoke aloud--"n

n he looked up, and there in the doorw

raid, bringing his

rg looked about him

" he exclaimed. "

; "and you're up to no

p his hands, and then

e quietly. "Surely you do

things," said Braid. "All I kno

rdenberg, with a quick and desperate action, had seized the gun by t

ell forward on his face. Even as he rolled over upon the gr

one or two were thrown open. Near at hand he heard the strong voice of John Braid, the keeper, sho

e. His hands were shaking, his lips

the unconscious boy, and, kne

" said he, "he

denberg of the theft. The Prussian stood bolt upright, his teeth fastened on his under lip. T

a score of sovereigns--were scattered on the floor. These he gathered together and thrust into the pockets of the unconscious boy. T

this?" h

n von Hardenberg, "that your son is

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