He twisted out of
the grasp of the huge quadroon and turned, raising the knife. As he
did so, the Algerian deftly kicked it from his grasp and left Sach to
face Miguel unarmed. Screaming with rage, he sprang at Miguel's throat,
and the tow fell writhing upon the floor.
There could only be one end to such a struggle, of course, as the
Algerian recognized by replacing his knife in his pocket and resuming
his seat. Miguel obtained a firm hold upon Sacah and raised him bodily
above his head, as one has seen a professional weight-lifter raise a
heavy dumb-bell. Thus he carried him, kicking and foaming at the mouth
with passion, to the open door. From the step he threw him into the
middle of the street.
At this moment I observed something glittering upon the floor close to
the chair occupied by the Algerian. Standing up--for I had determined
to depart--I crossed in that direction, stooped and picked up this
object which glittered. As my fingers touched it, so did my heart give
a great leap.
The object was a _golden scorpion!_
Forgetful of my dangerous surroundings I stood looking at the golden
ornament in my hand ... when suddenly and violently it was snatched
from me! The Algerian, his brown face convulsed with rage,
confronted me.
"Where did you find that charm?" he cried. "It belongs to me."
"Very well," I replied--"you have it."
He glared at me with a ferocity which the incident scarcely seemed to
merit and exchanged a significant glance with someone who had
approached and who now stood behind me.
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