time on Bauer's captive arm. Presently they crossed the road again. Bauer's lagging steps indicated that he took no pleasure in the change of side, but he could not resist.
"Aye, you shall go where I'm going, my lad," said Rudolf encouragingly; and he laughed a little as he looked down at the fellow's face.
Along they went; soon they came to the small numbers at the station end of the Königstrasse. Rudolf began to peer at the shop fronts.
"It's cursed dark," said he. "Pray, lad, can you make out which is nineteen?"
The moment he had spoken the smile broadened on his face. The shot had gone home. Bauer was a clever scoundrel, but his nerves were not under perfect control, and his arm had quivered under Rudolf’s.
"Nineteen, sir?" he stammered.
"Aye, nineteen. That's where we're bound for, you and I. There I hope we shall find—what we want."
Bauer seemed bewildered: no doubt he was at a loss how either to understand or to parry the bold attack.
"Ah, this looks like it," said Rudolf in a tone of great satisfaction, as they came to old mother Holf's little shop. "Isn't that a one and a nine over the door, my lad? Ah, and Holf! Yes, that's the name. Pray ring the bell. My hands are occupied."
