THE FIGHT IN THE CAVERN
“I’ll prevent you if I can.”
“How?”
“I’ll show you.” And with the remnants of his breath he shouted lustily for help. Hammersley threw him back, none too gently, and clapped a handkerchief in his mouth, while he directed Doris to tear her under-skirt and make bandages for a gag. They worked quickly and in a moment the German officer was silent and helpless. Then for a long moment Hammersley sat by the prostrate man, slowly recovering his breath. Doris, ash-gray with fear, crouched beside him, obedient to his look and action. At last with a laugh he got up.
“Close thing, that!” he said. “My word! He nearly got me.” And then with a look at the prostrate man, “Poor old Udo!”
In a moment, with a word to Doris, he went outside the cave and listened intently. He peered cautiously over the ridge of rocks. The road was deserted. The sound of the shot, while it had seemed deafening, would have been muffled at the entrance of the cavern and could not have been heard from a distance. And when Hammersley returned, he reassured Doris as to the immediate danger of discovery.
“There is no hurry, Doris. I must think,” he said, filling his pipe. He stood upright for a while, puffing rapidly, peering down at the captive, his expression struggling between a frown and a smile. Herr Graf Udo von Winden looked so very much like a mummy! The eyes of his cousin, the only visible part of his face, followed Hammersley intently.
“I could have done for you, Udo,” Hammersley repeated. “I want to be sure that you understand that.”
Von Winden’s head moved ever so slightly. Doris
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