good man and his child again. When will they come to their home?"

"Well, the best thing you can do is to wait here until you see them
again."

As Jack made this remark he took a quick step forward and picked up the
revolver. He did not pause to examine it, but was sure that none of
the chambers had been discharged. Slipping the weapon into his coat
pocket, and still grasping his own, he said:

"I think I shall go out on the veranda and await the return of the
doctor."

As he made this remark he committed a mistake for which there was no
excuse. Instead of backing out of the room he turned about and started
through the open door into the hall. The walking cane against which he
had once struck his foot still lay where he had kicked it, and he
tripped over it a second time. The mishap, slight as it was, saved his
life. As he stumbled in the gloom something whizzed like the rush of a
cobra's head past his temple, nipping his hat and striking the opposite
wall with force enough to kill two or three men. It was the yataghan
of Mustad, who had drawn and hurled it with inconceivable quickness and
with an aim so unerring that it would have brained the unsuspecting
American but for his fortunate stumble.

The furious Jack whirled around with the purpose of sending a bullet
through the brain of the wretch, but something like a shadow flitted
through the lamplight while Jack was in the act of turning and, before
he could secure any aim, the scoundrel had vanished. Determined not to
be balked the young man let fly, and then, bounding across the room,