The only growl which escaped his bearded lips was a muttered curse.

"Damn you both! In five minutes I would have silenced that lying jade's tongue forever." It was four days after the surprise of Adler's Horst when the strangers left the estate to the care of rugged old Forster Hermann.

Far and near, the simple country folk came to gaze upon the "Amerikanische" desperado, as the cortege of three carriages and two wagons drew slowly away from the schloss.
The soldiery had now all departed, save a corporal and three men, and peace reigned over the woods given up again to the elk and roebuck.
Atwater and McNerney were astonished at Fritz Braun's stolid indifference.

The whole drama was now laid bare up to the fatal moment when the entrapped Clayton was left helpless under Braun's strangling fingers.
The news of the capture, cabled over to New York City, had sent Jack Witherspoon whirling away to Detroit to give to Alice Worthington the news of the successful capture, and a proximate vengeance for Clayton's murder.
Braun's defiant mood still continued.

The only request he had made of the two friends was that he might have the necessary clothing for his homeward voyage.
With keen eyes, McNerney and Atwater searched all the articles reserved for the use of the sullen wretch, whose inflamed wound now rendered him almost helpless.
The whole crime seemed to be now cleared up from the frank confessions of Leah Einstein and the unknown Magyar beauty.
"It has been a great campaign," said McNerney, as he saw Braun, guarded by four soldiers, start slowly toward the village under the convoy of Sergeant Breyman.