The American Marquis by Nick Carter — page 35: what you’re looking at

Machine-transcribed from the original scan — historical spelling and the odd misread are preserved.

et 2 ee rh aA LEe Viet Be 02 14 ye ee MA A a OF ag oe ee ASO Mig) <0 ogs ee A 4 Ys ide we AS 3 dat py ae as a st sett UR ae a MENEAME pA! Ora, MOR nae BINS GN nes ep ted ML A Le Re J Foner ed, | Cats Laat a ee SSO og Yo ye a ae Ua FACE ee ae el bee iy ot ee ee : Se a Fe v BV Sal re aa SPE ST the 5 ra se ; MP oe h.4 Rg i ) yy J file hi Ne Pgs WR ad ae? ay,4 PEGs a i: Pi) A i i, it, ‘2 Lak fs 7 . rh" Ad s thet a Tn oh, : THE AMERICAN MARQUIS. sh He was a tall, dignified old gentleman with heavy snow- white mustache and imperial. His first care on dismissing the obsequious landlord was to lock the door, and to make sure that he could in no way be suddenly intruded upon. - Then he unbuckled what seemed to be a roll of music in a leather case, and took out what might have been a musical instrument, but was nob. It was a heavy, blood-stained club, bearing a marvelous resemblance to one Father Pierre had lost and was even at that time looking for. Now to see what these letters can teach me,” muttered the gentleman, closely examining the club. ‘© 7.¢-t-e-d-e Fer. Tete de Fer. Iron-head.” Round and round he turned the club, closely scrutinizing it in hope of finding something more, but in vain. ‘¢ Tron-head,” he repeated over and over again. ‘‘ Per- haps the nickname of the ruffian, perhaps only a fanciful name for this breaker of human heads less hard than iron, I do not see its value yet, but patience. I have made a good Sevinning.” No smile of satisfaction lighted up the old gentleman's stern face at this thought. His features were as calm as those of a mask. ‘Well, you may wait, old acquaintance,” he said, as he. returned the club to its case. ‘*‘ I will now call on Monsieur the Mayor, and have a look at the marriage register.” Carefully putting the club in his large valise, the old gen- tleman went down stairs and asked for the landlord. Such distinguished looking gentlemen as Monsieur Henri Roche—that was the name signed to the register—so seldom stopped at Iberri, that the landlord hastily abandoned his breakfast in answer to the summons. ‘¢ Monsieur will have breakfast, is it not?’ ‘<Why yes, landlord, that is, with two promises. First, to have it quickly; second, to have a bottle of Bordeaux with it.” 3 ‘““As you say, monsieur. Hold, Jean—fetch a_ bot- e 93 | pes ‘“Stop, monsieur landlord; I want good wine, and I know of but one way to be sure of haying it. | | ‘* How is that, monsieur?” (@) books: Gomi com