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Newspaper Page Text
lng excellence, the chef permits md
to add to the'menir."
T rose from my seat and took the
salad bowl, inverted it, and clapped it
on his head, so that the on ran down
over his shirt front.
"Dog of a thief!" I hissed, "you
stole that salad."
The next moment we are engaged
in a hand to hand battle. It was san
guinary frightful. Three times I
seized him by the hair and sought to
pull his nose, and thrice he beat me
off. We closed In a life and death
battle. With my nails set I made for
his eyes. He gritted his teeth ana
caught me by the ear. The waiters
I drew my card from my pocket
and presented it to the scoundrel.
'Tour salad," I said, "is my mas
ter's salad. Never did any man but
my master put Brussels sprouts and
lemon peel in a salad. None but he
knew of the divine, flavor which that
blend creates. Enough! You know
where to find me!"
.That evening his seconds called at
my boarding house s ,. r
"All is prepared, Monsfeur," they
said. "You meet at dawn' in a cellar
of a horse stable near this house. It
is to be a fight to the death withpis
tols. The loser wfil be buried under
the straw and none win be the wiser."
I sighed, thinking of my poor Hen
riette and my unaccomplished mis
sion. But honor is honor and there
was no alternative. I bowed my head.
"At dawn," I answered proudly, "I
shaU be there."
True to my word, behold me in the
cellar of the horse stable at 5 o'clock
the fonowing morning, my wUl made,
my last message to Mademoiselle in
an envelope awaiting postage, my
soul ready to face the future. The
cellar was fit by electricity. At the
far end I saw my enemy. I bowed;
our seconds bowed. I drew off my
rubbers, buttoned my coat, and plac
ed my half-burned cigarette carefully
upon the window ledge. My bravado
was not without effect I saw my
Tenemy tremble. They fiandeoTuB bur
"Ready!" exclaimed the arbiter.
"At one raise your weapons! At two1
take aim! At three, fire. One!"
I raised my pistol and covered my1
My hand trembled; the memory of
my master overcame me. I felt my
eyes fining with tears. J could not
longer see the scoundrel whom I was
so soon to kilL
Our weapons went off together. I
saw my 'foe standing unmoved, a
smUe of malice playing upon his lips.
I felta violent blow upon my breast
bone. I sank down in the straw.
"I forgive-you, Monsieur !'' I said,
as he came toward me. "Wait till I
die; then heap the straw over me."
"Perhaps, Monsieur, your wound is
not fatal," suggested my second.
"I feel that it is mortal I answer
ed. My life fs ebbing away. No, do
not examine me. It is useless."
Stilf he persfsted."Gently he unbut
toned my coat and felt for the gaping
wound. I closed my eyes in agony.
LoLA moment later and he was hold
ing up small, crushed peHet
"Your wound is but superficial,
Monsieur," he announced. ''See, I
have found the buUet"
His voice broke. Prom emotion?
No. AUat once everyone went into a
shriek of diaboUcal laughter.
The peHet was wrapped in sUver
fqU. Slowly he peeled it off, disclos
ing to my anguished eyes a Brussels
sprout It had fatten harmlessly upon
I rose to my feet, stupefied. Yet so
quickly my anger rose that in anothr
er moment I should have thrust It
into the teeth of the ImbecUe. But
my enemy came forward and held
out his "hand to me.
"My dear friend Birrabou," he said,
"Do you not know me?"
I looked at him, and suddenly I -gasped
from amazement I had seen
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