“Bah, these women!” And Larry tore the corner from a cartridge box.
Stoddard, with a pile of clubs within reach, lay on his back on the long leather couch, placidly reading his Greek testament. Bates, for the first time since my arrival, seemed really nervous and anxious. He pulled a silver watch from his pocket several times, something I had never seen him do before. He leaned against the table, looking strangely tired and worn, and I saw him start nervously as he felt Larry’s eyes on him.
“I think, sir, I’d better take another look at the outer gates,” he remarked to me quite respectfully.
His disturbed air aroused my old antagonism. Was he playing double in the matter? Did he seek now an excuse for conveying some message to the enemy?
“You’ll stay where you are,” I said sharply, and I found myself restlessly fingering my revolver.
“Very good, sir,”—and the hurt look in his eyes touched me.
“Bates is all right,” Larry declared, with an emphasis that was meant to rebuke me.
CHAPTER XXVI
THE FIGHT IN THE LIBRARY
“They’re coming faster this time,” remarked Stoddard.