he had set had caught himself unless he could make his escape with the next sixty seconds. He commenced desperate knife play, but his heart wilted as he found his blade turned aside with a precision and firmness he had never encountered before.
The whistle was repeated. With a yelp of dismay Pinaud kicked at Lander's knee and thrust. There was a slither of steel against steel as the two blades crossed and locked, a cunning twist, and Pinaud fell to the ground, stabbed through the heart.
It was thus that Papa Clair found them. Pinaud's face was composed and serene. Lander's visage was wild and staring, and he caught his breath hysterically as he glared at the dead man. He was partly aroused by Papa Clair's cheery words:
"You've made it much simpler, my friend. We can now ride to Lexington without any fears of being overtaken by surprise. But there is one job we must first bother to do." And he moved toward the dead man.
"I can't touch it!" shuddered Lander.
"My mule and I haven't any such nice feelings," chuckled the old man. "Don't feel put out
