The midland journal. (Rising Sun, Md.) 1885-1947, 1899-06-09
CHAPTER VIII.

The brain. if sound. performs it's func-
tions more quickly in moments of dan
ger than at any other time, discarding
the consideration of side issues, and
ohcying blindly the instinct of self
preservation.
1t flashed across me instantly that l
was In deadly ;>eril at the hands of the
man whom | had accused of cowardice
-Demetrius. lie alone had access to
the house; he alone could quiet Sultan,
the bloodhound; he alone had good rea-
son TO fear not only burlington, but
Hugo Livingston. Mark Gerard, could
no longer doubt. was the victim of a
!eep-laid plut---.l plot which already
had wrecked three lives. and which was
destined. perhaps, to destroy my own.
Il the Greek, intlamed with hellish am
bition, had slain poor Perkins, he was
capable of repeating the tragedy of Red
Gulch here, in this bedroom. Obvious
ly his plan was to kill both Burlington
ard me, and in such a manner that it
would be supposed we had killed each
other.
This conviction asserted itself as
awaited in hreathless silence the attack
of the Greek. | had dropped upon one
knee between the door and the bed,
and in my right hand was the small
pistol which | always carried on my
person. But a pistol is the least eff
cient weapon in such fight as this.
What would have given for double
Earreled shotgun, a good sabre or a
knife! If fired in the dark, the flash
of the powder would prove death war
rant; the same grim logic applied to
the striking OF match. Twas satisfied
that such a master scoundrel as De-
nIetrius had laid his plans with extraor-
dinary sagacity. He was taking des-
perate chances, but the crisis justified
them. These rooms were cut off from
the rest of the house, and nothing short
of a pistol shot would arouse Gerard
and the servants. Dcmetrius must have
counted upon the moon as an ally.
From the darkness of Marks room he
might have approached me unseen and
unheard, and then-a bold thrust of a
knife would rid him of the man who
had dared TO unmask his villainy. But
the tickle moon had played him false.
He probably, like me, was now upon
the defensive. Who would move first?
finally decided to take the initiative,
for the suspense was intolerable.
Demetrius, l reflected, was stiff in the
joints. his muscles less supple than
mine, his sense of hearing less acute.
Youth was on my side, experience on
his. The two players in the game were
at least fairly matched.
Had it not been for Burlington, could
have easily escaped by the window and
alarmed the households; but dared not
leave my patient. His somewhat ster-
torous breathing was the only sound
which broke the silence. If were killed
or injured, he was at the mercy of the
Greek.
! confess that certain eXhilaration
possessed me as l crawled into Marks
room, and a sense that was acting
wisely braced my nerves. The Greek
could beat me hollow when it came to
scheming. but in n rough-and-tumble
contest I confidently expected to get the
best of him. As soon as determined
his whereabouts, decided to rush the
ruffian, and, if possible, strike the first
ESQ often the last) blow.
But the unexpected, that clement in
human affairs which we invariably
ignore, ruled otherwise. had hardly
crossed the threshold of the inner room
when heard heavy football in the pas
sage. At the same moment the voice of
Jap Byers, calling me by name, echoed
gruflly through the darkness. while n
CLEAN of light pierced the gloom. As
the door was flung open, revealing the
thick-set figure of the coachman, Ian
tern in hand, n crash of glass to my
right set my nerves tingiing. Deme-
trius had lenped through the window,
glissaded down the roof of the veranda,
and was already lost to sight. Jap and
| confronted each other, our mouths
agape, our eyes starting from our heads.