He staggered. I struck him over
the heart, and he fell I pounced upon him, exulting, for he had sought
my life and I knew no pity.
Yet I had not thought so strong a man would choke so easily, and for
some moments I stood looking down at him, believing that he sought to
trick me. But it was not so. His affair was finished.
I listened. The situation in which I found myself was full of
difficulty. An owl screeched somewhere in the trees, but nothing else
stirred. The sound of the shot had not attracted attention, apparently.
I stooped and examined the garments of the man who lay at my feet.
He carried a travel coupon to Paris bearing that day's date, together
with some other papers, but, although I searched all his pockets, I
could find nothing of real interest, until in an inside pocket of his
coat I felt some hard, irregularly shaped object. I withdrew it, and
in the moonlight it lay glittering in my palm ... a _golden scorpion!_
It had apparently been broken in the struggle. The tail was missing,
nor could I find it: but I must confess that I did not prolong the
search.
Some chance effect produced by the shadow of the moonlight, and the
presence of that recently purchased ticket, gave me the idea upon
which without delay I proceeded to act. Satisfying myself that there
was no mark upon any of his garments by which the man could be
identified, I unlocked from my wrist an identification disk which I
habitually wore there, and locked it upon the wrist of the man with
the scar!
Clearly, I argued, he had been detailed to dispatch me and then to
leave at once for France.
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