Part 41 (1/2)

”By no means impossible,” I said calmly, now sure of my ground. ”To be perfectly frank with you, I've known from the beginning that they are fakes. Your friend, Count Hohendahl, is n.o.bler than you give him credit for being. He confessed to me at the time our transaction took place that the frescoes were very recent reproductions. The originals, I think, are in London or New York.” I saw guilt in the face of Herr Schwartzmuller. His moustaches drooped with the corners of his mouth; he did not seem to be filling out the frock coat quite so completely as when I first beheld him. A shrewd suspicion impelled me to take chances on a direct accusation. I looked straight into the German's eyes and said: ”Now that I come to think of it, I am sure he mentioned the name of Schwartzmuller in connection with the--”

”It is not true! It is not true!” roared the expert, without waiting for me to finish. ”He lied to you, we--the great firm of Zumpe & Schwartzmuller--we could not be tempted with millions to do such a thing.”

I went a step farther in my deductions. Somehow I had grasped the truth: this pair deliberately hoped to swindle me out of forty thousand dollars. They knew the frescoes were imitations and yet they were urging me to spend a huge sum of money in restoring canvases that had been purposely made to look old and flimsy in order to deceive a more cautious purchaser than I. But, as I say, I went a step farther and Deliberately accused Count Tarnowsy.

”Moreover, Count Tarnowsy, you are fully aware of all this.”

”My dear fellow,--”

”I'll not waste words. You are a d.a.m.ned scoundrel!”

He measured the distance with his eye and then sprang swiftly forward, striking blindly at my face.

I knocked him down!

Schwartzmuller was near the door, looking over his shoulder as he felt for the great bra.s.s k.n.o.b.

”Mein Gott!” he bellowed.

”Stop!” I shouted. ”Come back here and take this fellow away with you!”

Tarnowsy was sitting up, looking about him in a dazed, bewildered manner.

At that moment, p.o.o.pend.y.k.e came running down the stairs, attracted by the loud voices. He was followed closely by three or four wide-eyed glaziers who were working on the second floor.

”In the name of heaven, sir!”

”I've bruised my knuckles horribly,” was all that I said. I seemed to be in a sort of a daze myself. I had never knocked a man down before in my life. It was an amazingly easy thing to do. I could hardly believe that I had done it.

Tarnowsy struggled to his feet and faced me, quivering with rage. I was dumbfounded to see that he was not covered with blood. But he was of a light, yellowish green. I could scarcely believe my eyes.

”You shall pay for this!” he cried. The tears rushed to his eyes.

”Coward! Beast! To strike a defenceless man!”

His hand went swiftly to his breast pocket, and an instant later a small revolver flashed into view. It was then that I did another strange and incomprehensible thing. With the utmost coolness I stepped forward and wrested it from his hand. I say strange and incomprehensible for the reason that he was pointing it directly at my breast and yet I had not the slightest sensation of fear. He could have shot me like a dog.

I never even thought of that.

”None of that!” I cried sharply. ”Now, will you be good enough to get out of this house--and stay out?”

”My seconds will call on you--”

”And they will receive just what you have received. If you or any of your friends presume to trespa.s.s on the privacy of these grounds of mine, I'll kick the whole lot of you into the Danube. Hawkes! Either show or lead Count Tarnowsy to the gates. As for you, Mr.

Schwartzmuller, I shall expose--”

But the last word in restorations had departed.

CHAPTER XIV

I AM FORCED INTO BEING A HERO