The Daily Missoulian. [volume] (Missoula, Mont.) 1904-1961, 1917-12-14


son SLOWLY.
That's it, replied Chris.
by .Iove you're a cold -blooded GUS
| TONER" and there was reluctant add
mira ion in Sandersons voice.
| Brent now plunged his hands into
his pockets and shrugged his shoulders
sllf1tly. "Onc can afford to he cold
! blooded when ones going to win he
I rema rked casually.
| Going to win. eh?' asked Charles
with a laugh. My poor. dear friend.
| iii Il few moments YOU will be cold
mutton"
What 4 nasty simile." remarked
| Brent, returning to his old affected
manner. Il suppose. by the way, SAN
derson, there's no objection to my hav-
! ing a last smoke"
"l:y all means" replied his adver-
sary politely. and he pushed a box Of
cigarettes toward him.
| Another swift TRANSPORTATION of the
| room took place while Chris was light
i ing his cigarette and showed his face
looking pale, indeed. il was bound
to in that bright glare, but perfectly
placid and contented. BY some trick
Of the light and shadow Sanderson's
face took on for a fleeing moment the
look OLA deaths head. His eyes. very
deeply set III their sockets. seemed
pools of shadow. while his lips usually
so firmly closed, We're drawn back and
showin. his teeth as he smiled al
+ Brent. The next second the room was
dark again, but Bront's swift Celtic
imagination had been touched Ia an
| almost SupeistitioiS thrill at the sight.
| Smoking under fire, eh?" commented
| Charles still smiling. IL shall be duly
! recorded in your obituary notice
80 You intend to shoot me- asked
| chris pleasantly.
Most certainly. You're caught al
last, my dear Brent. You must see
for yourself that ! can't afford to let
you 60. As 4 special privilege | will
shoot You with one of your own bud
! lets. Ana he laid his own revolver
un the table while he still kept Chris
| covered with the weapon he had dis
! covered in the pocket of the dressing
! gown.
| Brent made Il gesture with his hands
as Of one wh" appeals to the world III
large. WHO says Germans have no
sense of humor?" he demanded No
account of my death would I've com
pl"te unless your own peculiarly taste
! lul remarks were included my dear
/ Herr won Mantel.'
20, YOU know that. do YOU -
| Eyes, know that and quite Il lot of
other things, too. | know for in
stance. that YOU are not going to fire
| On me"
Indeed; may ask Why"
For tn. very simple reason that
%ou would rouse the house. and that
| fancy, is the last thng YOU wish to
do"
"liN iove, you are a rlucky chap. You
seem I" hay" made good use Of Your
time, must SAY"
Yes" agreed Chris diplomacy and
spy hunting are amusing recrrations
for the man VIII" has To stay at home"
and, turning, chris hogan To saun,er
toward the winuuw.
stay where YOU are. ordered
Charles fierc"ly, "or yonll be a dead
man. I'll blow the whole lot of us to
pieces with that box there"
Brent paused ana Sanders"n swept
lswiftly between him and the window.
iStill keeping him covered. What Brent
had been man"uNerng fer had COME
to pass, and ma&IuI; Il dash AT the ia
hlc he snttch"d mp Charles revolver.
Charles spran@ forward, but too late,
ana the next moment the two men
Mere looking at each other over their
lcVrlcd Weapons.
shall we call it stalematc. ell. mein
herr" asked Chris with his pleasant
smile.
IT" he'll With stalemate and Will
you, too, cried Charles. and aiming
| -,
h" pulled the trigger OF his revolver
The hammer clicked. and that was all
No defamation followed. Brent was
laughing outright by now
U'nMl innca on ThiS Raun TomnlroM