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Farnol, Jeffery, 1878-1952

"The Amateur Gentleman"


For a moment he paused, eyeing its scarred and battered walls
narrowly, then, stepping quickly forward, entered the gloomy doorway
and, turning towards a certain spot, started back before the
threatening figure that rose up from the shadows.
"Ah! So you 've c-come at last, sir!" said Barrymaine, steadying
himself against the wall with one hand while he held the pistol
levelled in the other, "ins-stead of the weak s-sister you find the
avenging brother! Been waiting for you hours. C-cursed dreary hole
this, and I fell asleep, but--"
"Because you were drugged!" said Barnabas.
"D-drugged, sir! W-what d' you mean?"
"Chichester drugged the brandy--"
"Chichester?"
"He meant to murder me while you slept and fix the crime on you--"
"Liar!" cried Barrymaine, "you came here to meet my s-sister, but
instead of a defenceless girl you meet me and I'm g-going to settle
with you--once and for all--t-told you I would, last time we met.
There's another pistol in the c-case yonder--pick it up and t-take
your ground."
"Listen to me," Barnabas began.
"N-not a word--you're going to fight me--"
"Never!"
"Pick up that pistol--or I'll sh-shoot you where you stand!"
"No!"
"I'll c-count three!" said Barrymaine, his pale face livid against
the darkness behind, "One! Two!--"
But, on the instant, Barnabas sprang in and closed with him, and,
grappled in a fierce embrace, they swayed a moment and staggered out
through the gaping doorway.


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