With a quick movement Rosenblatt jerked the pistol from the Sergeant's belt and fired straight at old Kalmar, turned the pistol toward Kalman and fired again.

But as he levelled his gun for the second time, Paulina, with a cry, flung herself upon Kalman, received the bullet, and fell to the ground.

With a wild laugh, Rosenblatt turned the pistol on himself, but before he could fire the Sergeant had wrested it from his hand.
"Aha," he gasped, "I have my revenge!" "Fool!" said old Kalmar, who was being supported by his son.
"Fool! You have only done for me what I would have done for myself." With a snarl as of a dog, Rosenblatt sank back upon the ground, and with a shudder lay still.
"He is dead," said Brown.

"God's mercy meet him!" "Ah," said old Kalmar, "I breathe freer now that his breath no longer taints the air.

My work is done." "Oh, my father," cried Kalman brokenly, "may God forgive you!" "Boy," said the old man sternly, "mean you for the death of yon dog?
You hang the murderer.