"You may pursue later when you are found but by that time I shall be gone."
"You can never escape me," the count said. "I have a long arm and I do not forget. And my vengeance is a bad thing for those against whom it is directed."
"It's not altogether healthy to have me for an enemy," Trent reminded him. "I have my own likes and dislikes."
The count sneered.
"You," he cried, "Who are you? What have you done that men should fear you? For a moment you have a little luck, the little luck that will bring you blindly to greater danger."
"I'm strictly incognito," Trent answered. "Once I was unwise enough to answer such a challenge, but you may believe me that I, too, have a name. Now count, it won't help you a bit to put up a fight. It will save you trouble if you'll back up against that tree and let me tie you up."
"You would put this outrage on me?" the other cried, his calm leaving him, the veins standing out on an empurpled forehead like raised livid ridges.
"Get up!" Anthony Trent snapped.
"It is because you have a pistol," the count said. "Put that down if you are a man and then see what you can make me do."
"You may believe it or not," Trent retorted, "but it hurts me to have to decline the offer. If I dared take time I would return several little tendernesses of yours. As it is I can't, having a weapon, strike a man who hasn't one. You are luckier than you know. Back up there and do it damned quick."