And thereat he set to work cleaning the gun which had all but
prostrated the inspector. Soon the room smelled of oiled rags
and tobacco. Some-times the worker whistled softly. Sometimes he
let the gun fall against his knee, and stared dreamily through
the window at the flight of the ragged clouds. Again, he would
shake his head, as if there were something which he failed to
understand. Half an hour passed, when again some one knocked on
the door.

"Come in!" Under his breath he added: "The gendarmes, likely."

But it was only the proprietor of the hotel. "Asking Herr's
pardon," he said, "for this intrusion, but I have secured a man
for you. I have the honor to recommend Johann Kopf as a good
guide and hunter."

"Send him up. If he pleases me, I'll use him."

The proprietor withdrew.

Johann Kopf proved to be a young German with a round, ruddy face,
which was so innocent of guile as to be out of harmony with the
shrewd, piercing black eyes looking out of it. The Englishman
eyed him inquisitively, even suspiciously.

"Are you a good hunter?" he asked.

"There is none better hereabout," answered Johann, twirling his
cap with noticeably white fingers. It was only in after days
that the Englishman appreciated the full significance of this