listlessly from the window and Truxton King was leaning against the counter with his back toward her, his arms folded and a most impatient frown on his face.
"Hello!" he said gruffly. "I've been waiting ten minutes for you."
Spantz's black eyes shot from one to the other. "What do you want?" he demanded sharply. As he dropped his hat upon a stool near, the door, his glance again darted from the man to the girl and back again.
"The broadsword. And, say, Mr. Spantz, you might assume a different tone in addressing me. I'm a customer, not a beggar."
The girl left the window and walked slowly to the rear of the shop, passing through the narrow door, without so much as a glance at King or the old man. Spantz was silent until she was gone.
"You want the broadsword, eh?" he asked, moderating his tone considerably. "It's a rare old—"
"I'll give you a hundred dollars-not another cent," interrupted King, riot yet over his resentment. There followed a long and irritating argument, at the conclusion of which Mr. King became the possessor of the weapon at his own price. Remembering himself in time, he fell to admiring some old rings and bracelets in a cabinet near by, thus paving the way for future visits.
"I'll come in again," he said indifferently.
"But you are leaving to-morrow, sir."
"I've changed my mind."
"You are not going?"
"Not for a few days."
"Then you have discovered something in Edelweiss to attract you?" grinned the old armourer. "I thought you might."
"I've had a glimpse of the swells, my good friend."
"It's all the good you'll get of it," said Spantz gruffly.
"I daresay you're right. Clean that sword up a bit for me, and I'll drop in to-morrow and get it. Here's sixty gavvos to bind the bargain. The rest on delivery. Good day, Mr. Spantz."
"Good day, Mr. King."
"How do you happen to know my name?"
Spantz put his hand over his heart and delivered himself of a most impressive bow. "When so distinguished a visitor comes to our little city," he said, "we lose no time in discovering his name. It is a part of our trade, sir, believe me."
"I'm not so sure that I do believe you," said Truxton King to himself as he sauntered up the street toward the Hotel. "The girl knew me, too, now that I come to think of it. Heigho! By Jove, I do hope I can work up a little something to interest—Hello!"
Mr. Hobbs, from Cook's, was at his elbow, his eyes glistening with eagerness.
"I say, old Dangloss is waiting for you at the Regengetz, sir. Wot's up? Wot you been up to, sir?"
"Up to? Up to, Hobbs?"
"My word, sir, you must have been or he wouldn't be there to see you."
"Who is Dangloss?"
"Minister of Police—haven't I told you? He's a keen one, too, take my word for it. He's got Sherlock beat a mile."
"So have I, Hobbs. I'm not slow at Sherlocking, let me tell you that. How do you know he's waiting to see me?"
"I heard him ask for you. And I was there just now when one of his men came in and told him you were on your way up from the gunshop down there."
"So they're watching me, eh? 'Gad, this is fine!"
He lost no time in getting to the hotel. A well-remembered, fierce-looking little man in a white linen suit was waiting for him on the great piazza.
Baron Jasto Dangloss was a polite man but not to the point of procrastination. He advanced to meet the puzzled American, smiling amiably and twirling his imposing mustachios with neatly gloved fingers.
"I have called, Mr. King, to have a little chat with you about your father," he said abruptly. He enjoyed the look of surprise on the young man's face.
"My father?" murmured Truxton, catching his breath. He was shaking hands with the Baron, all the while staring blankly into his twinkling, snapping eyes.
"Won't you join me at this table? A julep will not be bad, eh?" King sat down opposite to him at one of the piazza tables, in the shade of the great trailing vines.
"Fine," was his only comment.
A waiter took the order and departed. The Baron produced his cigarette case. King carefully selected one and tapped its tip on the back of his hand.
"Is—has anything happened to my father?" he asked quietly. "Bad news?"
"On the contrary, sir, he is quite well. I had a cablegram from him to-day."
"A cablegram?"
"Yes. I cabled day before yesterday to ask if he could tell me the whereabouts of his son."
"The deuce you say!"
"He replies that you are in Teheran."
"What is the meaning of this, Baron?"
"It is a habit I have. I make it a practice to keep in touch with the movements of our guests."
"I see. You want to know all about me; why I'm here, where I came from, and all that. Well, I'm ready for the 'sweat box.'"
"Pray do not take offence. It is my rule. It would not be altered if the King of England came. Ah, here are the juleps. Quick service, eh?"
"Remarkably so, due to your powers of persuasion, I fancy."
"I really ordered them a few minutes before you arrived. You see, I was quite certain you'd have one. You take one about this hour every day."
"By Jove, you have been watching me!" cried Truxton delightedly.
"What are you doing in Edelweiss, Mr. King?" asked the Baron abruptly but not peremptorily.
"Sight-seeing and in search of adventure," was the prompt response.
"I fancied as much. You've seen quite a bit of the world since you left home two years ago, on the twenty-seventh of September."
"By Jove!"
"Been to South Africa, Asia and—South America—to say nothing of Europe. That must have been an exciting little episode in South America."
"You don't mean to say—"
"Oh, I know all about your participation in the revolution down there. You were a captain, I understand, during the three weeks of disturbance. Splendid! For the fun of the thing, I suppose. Well, I like it in you. I should have done it myself. And you got out of the country just in time, if I remember rightly. There was a price placed on your head by the distressed government. I imagine they would have shot you if they could have caught you—as they did the others." The old man chuckled. "You don't expect to return to South America, do you? The price is still offered, you know."
King was glaring at him in sheer wonder. Here was an episode in his life that he fondly hoped might never come to light; he knew how it would disturb his mother. And this foxy old fellow away off here in Graustark knew all about it.
"Well, you're a wonder!" in pure admiration.
"An appreciated compliment, I assure you. This is all in the way of letting you know that we have found out something concerning your movements. Now, to come down to the present. You expected to leave to-morrow. Why are you staying over?"
"Baron, I leave that to your own distinguished powers of deduction," said Truxton gently. He took a long pull at the straw, watching the other's face as he did so. The Baron smiled.
"You have found the young lady to be very attractive," observed the Baron. "Where have you known her before?"
"I beg pardon?"
"It is not unusual for a young