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King of the Khyber Rifles by Talbot Mundy
page 26 of 427 (06%)
"He'll either strike first, so as to kill us both and do the looting
afterward--and in that case I think it will be easier to break his
neck than his arm--yes, decidedly his neck; it's long and thin;--or--"

His eyes feigned sleep so successfully that the native turned away
at last.

"Thought so!" He dared open his eyes a mite wider. "He's pukka--
true to type! Rob first and then kill! Rule number one with his
sort, run when you've stabbed! Not a bad rule either, from their
point of view!"

As he watched, the thief drew the sheet back from Hyde's face, with
trained fingers that could have taken spectacles from the victims'
nose without his knowledge. Then as fish glide in and out among
the reeds without touching them, swift and soft and unseen, his
fingers searched Hyde's body. They found nothing. So they dived
under the pillow and brought out the pistol and a gold watch.

After that he began to search the clothes that hung on a hook beside
Hyde's berth. He brought forth papers and a pocketbook--then money.
Money went into one bag--papers and pocketbook into another. And
that was evidence enough as well as risk enough. The knife would
be due in a minute.

King moved in his sleep, rather noisily, and the movement knocked
a book to the floor from the foot of his berth. The noise of that
awoke Hyde, and King pretended to begin to wake, yawning and rolling
on his back (that being much the safest position an unarmed man
can take and much the most awkward for his enemy).
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