The Port of Missing Men

ods the tra

worlds

who keep th

p the pr

y A.

ghs of his captor pinned his arms tight. The match spurted fire and he looked into the face of the servant whom he had seen in the room above. His round head was covered with short, wire-like hair that grew low upon his narrow forehea

n Servian; then with ponderous dif

and what do y

is head; and rep

ot unde

gentleman in water-soaked evening clothes lurking in the area, and as the matter was beyond his wits it only remained for him to communicate with his master. This, however, was not so readily accomplished. He had rea

fast numbing from the rough clasp of the stalwart servant's legs. There was nothing to be gained by a struggle in this position, and he knew that the Servian wo

im. There was a moment of silence in which Armitage shook and stretched himself, and then the Serv

e said again in h

see any safe issue out of his predicament; but his plight had its preposterous side and the ease with which he had been taken at

one hand and the leveled revolver in the other,

ellow, and Armitage heard his feet scraping over the brick floor of the kitche

ss at which Armitage had left them; and his immediate affair was with the Servian alone. The fellow continued to mumble his threats; but Armitage had resolve

ad been revealed by the fitful flashes of the matches. It is not an easy matter to light a lamp when you have only one hand to work with, particularl

Servian translated for his prisoner's

. The man's object was to get him as far from the inner door as possible while he called help

t; a barred window was at his right; opposite him was another door that communicated with the interior of the house and dis

bedraggled about him; his shirt was crumpled and soiled. But his air of good humor and his tame acceptance of capture seemed

he held his revolver at arm's length, craning his neck into the passage, and howling until he was red in the face. He paused

nce above. Then, as he relaxed a moment and turned to make sure that his revolver still covered

oise and tell me w

ing in the Servian dialect; and

it fly with all his might at the Servian's head, upturned in the earnestness of his bawling. On the instant the revolver roared loudly in the

and Armitage at the threshold leaped over him into the hall past the rea

risk. He crept along a dark passage to the front door, found and turned the key to provide himself with a ready exit, then, as he heard the men from above stumble over the pro

matters for them at once, and he hurriedly turned over the packets of papers that lay on the table. They were claims of one kind and another against several South and Central American republics, chiefly for naval a

Paris, Wa

et et D

ts, found them empty, then gathered the garment tightly in his hands, laughed a little to himself to feel papers sewn into the

itchen rose sounds of mighty groanings and cursings in the heavy guttural

ld high above his head, its light showing anxiety and fear upon his face. He was half-way up the last flight, and Armitage stood in the dark, watching h

But Von Stroebel was hardly

ere it struck Jules Chauvenet's legs with a force that ca

nd story. In fumbling for the front door he found a hat, and, having lost his own, placed it upon his head, drew his inverness

alked back to the Monte Rosa. Occasionally he laughed quietly to himself, for he still grasped tightly in his hand, safe und

ders, more

ings from his dressing-table into a bag, and anno

ng. The loss evidently gave him great concern, for he searched and researched his pockets and opene

is forehead-bent over a gold cigarette case in the dark house on the Boulevard Froissart. It was a pretty trinket, and contained, when found on the kitchen floor, exactly four cigarettes of excellent Turkish tobacco. On o

wonderingly for an instant, t

ossible!" g

replied Chauvenet. "Th

God,

here his coat hung, and caught up the garment with shaking hands. The sil

e?" whispered Durand

st be some one d

slowly; then the color leaped back into his face, and

ught he was interested in the Claibornes. He's

d's arm and struck the table f

Armitage! I heard hi

with excitement, and am

y; but Chauvenet stared at him in stupefaction

his voice was hoarse and his hand trem

as though you had seen a

ita

tiously, then bent forward and whisp

n of the crazy Karl! Su

ust

at is your man Armitage li

g fellow and has quite an air. H

vidently been watching us. Quite possibly the lamented

in struck the

Stroebel! Stroebel was

this fellow b

can be no manner of doubt of that," said Dura

h a son to back his claims. They may both be living. This Armit

kly. Ther

tle list before we are quite mas

ain on guard at the house an