THE COMPLETE JIM MAITLAND SERIES. H. C. McNeile / Sapper

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СКАЧАТЬ has, I believe, the choice of weapons. He has chosen big-game rifles. He proposes that we should all go ostensibly after lions to some suitable place. He then proposes that your principal and he should take cover as directed by us, and at a given signal, each should regard the other as the lion. Each will proceed to stalk the other until a result takes place. Should that result prove fatal, the survivor, for his own sake, is not likely to talk about it. In addition, both you and I will be in a position to state that the one who loses was mauled and killed by a lion, and the vultures will do the rest. Do I make myself clear?"

      "Perfectly," said von Tarnim, clicking his heels together. "I will acquaint my principal with what you have said."

      With that he left me, to return in ten minutes with the information that the Baron agreed. And then for a moment or two he stared at me irresolutely.

      "It is most unorthodox, what I am going to say," he said, with a great deal of hesitation. "I am Baron Stockmar's second, and, therefore, his interests are mine. But he is a peculiar man; his reputation is notorious. And I think it only fair to tell you that he is probably the finest shot in Germany. Moreover, he is quite determined to kill your friend."

      He was very stiff about it. I could see the man's decent nature struggling with his scandalised horror at his own breach of etiquette. And the next moment his horror deepened. Jim, who had come into the room unnoticed, smote him heavily on the back.

      "Tell the Baron, with my love," he said earnestly, "that I once slaughtered a sparrow with a catapult."

      But though Jim laughed and was his usual self during the two days that we trekked south to the place we had decided on, there was an undercurrent of seriousness beneath his gaiety. He slept, as usual, like a child; I do not believe that for a single instant during the whole time did his pulse quicken by one beat. But he gave me in full the report which I was to render to the Chief in Cairo in case anything happened; also he gave me one or two private commissions to carry out.

      And the night before the duel he was a little more silent than usual. I had fixed the final details with von Tarnim; the spot had been duly selected. And it was as I came back that Jim looked up with a lazy smile from oiling his rifle.

      "What extraordinary blokes we are," he remarked thoughtfully. "I don't know that it affords me any pleasure to go out and try to kill this bird to- morrow. I felt like murdering him in the mess that night, but—now..."

      He returned to his task and shortly after we turned in. And of the two of us I know who slept the worse. I don't think I closed my eyes the whole night.

      Even the next morning Jim seemed bored. He told me afterwards that he'd lost interest in the affair and all the smouldering fury in Baron Stockmar's eyes failed to rouse him. He was as immaculate as ever; his eyeglass seemed even more conspicuous, and when I showed him the place we had selected for him, he lounged over as if he was looking for butterflies.

      "He means business, Jim," I said urgently. "He's blind mad with rage still."

      "Is he?" said Jim indifferently. "Make him shoot the worse."

      They were to start when we fired a revolver, and von Tarnim gave the signal as soon as we were both satisfied they were ready. We were standing on a little sandy hummock above the scrub, whence we could see both men though they could not see one another. And then there began the grimmest, most exciting fight that it has ever been my fortune to witness. Von Tarnim beside me was smoking cigarette after cigarette; I was chewing an empty pipe.

      Occasionally a shot rang out, but it seemed to me that Jim was taking things too easily. As a shikar his name was famous through three continents, but the Baron, despite his bulk, was no mean performer. And once I saw a bullet flatten itself on a stone not an inch from Jim's head.

      He was just underneath us at the moment and he drew back quickly. Then he looked at the stone very carefully and I saw his face change. Through my glasses I could see the look of boredom vanish and I breathed a sigh of relief. Something had roused him at last, and the man beside me realised it too, and whistled under his breath. Jim's lethargy had gone; something had happened which had turned him from a bored individual into a grim and ruthless man. At a quick lope he turned and vanished into the scrub. Every now and then we saw him listening intently; every now and then we saw the great figure of the Baron squirming forward, with his head turning from side to side as he peered into the undergrowth. And then suddenly von Tarnim gripped my arm convulsively; the two men were not more than twenty yards apart. A big bush was between them, but we could see them both. And it seemed to us that at that moment each of them became aware of the other. Like a flash Jim was round the bush, and he fired standing, the fraction of a second before the other man. Then he spun round and sank on his knees, while von Tarnim and I raced towards them.

      I raised Jim up in my arms; the Baron had shot him through the shoulder. But it was a dreadful wound, and I stared at it in amazement. Even from such a short range the wound was almost incredible, and suddenly Jim opened his eyes and stared at me.

      "He was using dum-dums," he said, and his voice was hard. "The swine was using dum-dums."

      A shadow fell on me, and we looked up at Count von Tarnim. He had heard Jim's remark, and his face was stern.

      "I apologise in the name of my country," he said with quiet dignity. "My principal cannot."

      For the first time I looked at the Baron, and understood. Jim had shot him through the brain.

      * * * * *

      And so we came back to Khartoum. It was Count von Tarnim who came with me to see Colonel Latimer the instant we had got Jim stowed in hospital.

      "A regrettable accident has taken place, sir," he remarked, with stiff military precision. "Baron Carl Stockmar, while following a lion with Mr. Maitland, was turned on suddenly by the brute. He fired, unfortunately missing the lion and hitting Mr. Maitland in the shoulder. The lion killed him, Mr. Maitland being unable to give any assistance owing to his wound."

      The Colonel stared at him in thoughtful silence; the Adjutant stood stiffly by the side of his chair.

      "Am I to understand, Count von Tarnim," he said at length, "that that is the information which will be conveyed to the Baron's friends in Germany? Just what you have told me?"

      "Exactly that, sir—and nothing more," said the Count.

      "Good," answered the Colonel, rising from his chair, and holding out his hand. "The officers of my regiment and myself will be very pleased if you will dine with us tonight."

      III. — A GAME OF BLUFF

       Table of Content

      IT was three months before Jim came out of hospital, and even then his arm was stiff. The expanding bullet had torn the ligaments badly, and for quite a time the doctor had looked grave.

      "A long course of electric massage is essential," he said emphatically. "Otherwise I warn you seriously that your arm may remain like that permanently. There's a wonderful new man in Paris: give you his name if you like."

      "We might do worse, Dick," remarked Jim. "They tell me that there are worse places."

      "Confound you," I said. "What about those two trunks of perfectly good clothes I left in Nagasaki?"

      "What about СКАЧАТЬ