Claiborne read and re-read these eight words; then he spoke bluntly to Oscar.
“Where did you get this?”
“From the hat of the sheep-stealer up yonder.”
“Who is he and where did he get it?”
“I don’t know, sir. He was of Servia, and they are an ugly race—yes?”
“What were you going to do with the paper?”
Oscar grinned.
“If I could read it—yes; I might know; but if Austria is in the paper, then it is mischief; and maybe it would be murder; who knows?”
Claiborne looked frowningly from the paper to Oscar’s tranquil eyes.
“Dick!” called Shirley from the hall, and she appeared in the doorway, drawing on her gloves; but paused at seeing Oscar.