Arizona republican., 1909-06-14

visions of Italian jails. Through the crowd the ever present carabinieri shouldered their way.
 Tt is nothing" said the colonel mOtioning them to stand back, which
 they did with sign of respect.
 This sign gave Hillard some food for thought. His antagonist was evil l dently a parsonage of some inn
 portance.
 Figure of an American pig!"
 Hillard laughed. q might have
 broken your wrist, but did not You are not grateful
 The carabinieri moved forward again.
 The affair is over." said Hillard amiably. This officer has mistaken me for some one he knows"
 The scar was livid on the Italians cheek. He stood undecided for a space His companion laid a re- straining hand on his arm. He nod ded and the two made off What might in former days have been a tragedy was nothing more than a farce. But it spoiled the night for Merrihew and he was for going back to the hotel. Hillard agreed.
 At first I wanted you to give him a good stiff punch" said Merrihew, but I am glad you didn't"
 We should have slept in the lock- up over night if l had. The cara binieri would not have understood my excuses. If our friend is left handed he'll be inconvcnienced for d day or two. I put some force into that grip. You see, Dan, the Italian still fights his duels. Dueling is not extinct in the army here. An officer who re- fuses to accept a challenge for a good or bad cause is practically bounded out of the service. It would have been a fine joke if I had been fool enough to accept his challenge. He would have put daylight through me at the first stroke"
 q don't know about that" replied Merirhew loyally. You are the crack fencer in New York
 But New York isn't Florence, my boy. I'll show you some fencing to- morrow. If my old fencing master. Foresti Paoli, is yet in Florence. I'll have him arrange some matches. New York affairs will look tame to you then"
 But what has-.he to do with your vanishing lady?"
 "I should like to know
 q wish I had thought to ask waiter who the duffer is. Did you notice how respectful the carabinieri were?"
 Tt set me thinking. Oh, I've premOnition that we haven't seen the last of this distinguished gentleman. Perhaps we'll find out who he is sooner than we care to-"
 When the time comes," said Mer- rihew with a laugh, "be sure you soak it to him, and an extra one for me"
 Early on the morrow they rode out to Cascine, formerly dairy farm, but now a splendid park. The bridle paths are the finest in the world, not excepting those in the Bois de BO- logne in Paris. They are not so long, perhaps, but they are infinitely more beautiful. Take. for instance. the long path under a tunnel of enormous trees, bridle path where ten men may ride abreast with room to spare. and nearly half a mile in length: there is nothing like it.
 'I tell you what it is, Jack; Italy may put a tax on salt and sea water. but always gives something in return; she puts up a picture-gallery or a museum, or a park like this. What do we get back in America? Niente,"
 For two hours they romped through the park, running races, hurdling. and playing rough pranks upon each other, such as only expert riders dare attempt. They were both hardened by the long ride down to Florence, a pair of animals as healthy as their mounts They had determined not to sell the horses till the last moment. A riding master in the Via Lorenzo il Maginificio agreed to board them against the time of sale.
 In the three days in Florence they had been through the galleries and the museums; and Merrihew, to his great delight, began to find that he could tell a Botticelli from a Lippi at first glance. He was beginning to why people raved over this style or that. There was some thing so gentle, so peaceful in a Botticelli that he really preferred it to some of the famed colorists. all ways excepting Veronese, to whom he had given his first admiration.
 For luncheon this day Hillard took him to Paoli's in the Via dei TavO- way of the little tables. Here Merrihew saw a tavern such as he had often conjured up while read ing his Dumas: sausages and hams and bacons and garlic and cheeses and dried vegetables hanging from the ceiling. abrupt passages. rough tables and common chairs and strange dishes; oil, oil oil, even on the top of his coffee cup, and magnums of red and white Chianti. Hillard in- formed him that this was the most famous Bohemian place in the city, the rendezvous of artists, sculptors, writers. physicians and civil authori- ties. The military seldom patronized it. because it was not showy enough. Merrlhew enjoyed the scene, with its jabber- -jabber and its chatter -clatter. And he was still hungry when he left, but he would not admit it to who adapted himself to the over abundance of oil with all the zest of an expatriated Tuscan.
 At three o'clock they went to the fencing academy of Foresti Paoli, near the postoffice. Foresti was a