This is no vain assertion, but a fact. That's why"--again his
tone changed, while he picked up the table knife and let it fall
disdainfully--"that's why I wish these wretched round knives had some
edge on them. Absolute rubbish--neither edge, point, nor substance. I
believe one of these forks would make a better weapon at a pinch. But
can I go about with a fork in my pocket?" He gnashed his teeth with a
rage very real, and yet comic.
"There used to be a carver here, but it was broken and thrown away a
long time ago. Nothing much to carve here. It would have made a noble
weapon, no doubt; but--"
He stopped. The girl sat very quiet, with downcast eyes. As he kept
silence for some time, she looked up and said thoughtfully:
"Yes, a knife--it's a knife that you would want, wouldn't you, in case,
in case--"
He shrugged his shoulders.
"There must be a crowbar or two in the sheds; but I have given up all
the keys together. And then, do you see me walking about with a crowbar
in my hand? Ha, ha! And besides, that edifying sight alone might start
the trouble for all I know. In truth, why has it not started yet?"
"Perhaps they are afraid of you," she whispered, looking down again.
"By Jove, it looks like it," he assented meditatively. "They do seem to
hang back for some reason. Is that reason prudence, or downright fear,
or perhaps the leisurely method of certitude?"
Out in the black night, not very far from the bungalow, resounded a loud
and prolonged whistle.
Pages:
401
402
403
404
405
406
407
408
409
410
411
412
413
414
415
416
417
418
419
420
421
422
423
424
425