"I know when I'm beaten," he said. "Keep your report, and be damned
to you. But remember that you and I have a score to settle, and you
can ask those who know me how often Dick Horser comes out underneath
in the long run."
He followed the others. Mr. Sabin sat down in his easy-chair with a
quiet smile upon his lips. Once more he glanced through the brief
report. Then his eyes half closed, and he sat quite still--a tired,
weary-looking man, almost unnaturally pale.
"They have kept their word," he said softly to himself, "after many
years. After many years!"
* * * * *
Duson came in to undress him shortly afterwards. He saw signs of
the struggle, but made no comment. Mr. Sabin, after a moment's
hesitation, took a phial from his pocket and poured a few drops into
a wineglassful of water.
"Duson," he said, "bring me some despatch forms and a pencil."
"Yes, sir."
Mr. Sabin wrote for several moments. Then he placed the forms in
an envelope, sealed it, and handed it to Duson.
"Duson," he said, "that fellow Horser is annoyed with me. If I
should be arrested on any charge, or should fail to return to the
hotel within reasonable time, break that seal and send off the
telegrams."
"Yes, sir."
Mr. Sabin yawned.
"I need sleep," he said.
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