He smelt the obvious rat. Why didn't I sign the letter myself, and get
all the credit afterward, as any other spy would do?
"You sign it," he said, pushing the letter toward me; and I got one of
those sudden inspirations that there is no explaining--the right idea
for handling fox Rene the banker.
"So you're afraid to sign that, are you? All right; give it here, I'll
sign it; pass me your pen. But you'll come along with me tonight, my
lad, and make your explanations to the French in the morning!"
Looking back, I can see how the accusation worked, although it was an
arrow shot at a venture. His greasy, sly, fox face with its touch of
bold impudence betrayed him for a man who would habitually hedge his
bets. Feisul's safe-conduct had protected him from official
interference, but it had needed more than that to preserve him from
unofficial murder, and beyond a doubt he had betrayed the French in
minor ways whenever that course looked profitable. Now in a crisis he
had small choice but to establish himself as loyal to the stronger side.
He hurriedly wrote a number at the bottom of the letter, and another
followed by three capitals and three more figures at the top.
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