"Burroughs, Edgar Rice - The Mad King" - читать интересную книгу автора (Burroughs Edgar Rice)

had risen to his feet, and assisted the girl in rising. Now he
turned and spoke to the officer.

"This farce," he said, "has gone quite far enough. If it is
a
joke it is becoming a very sorry one. I am not a king. I am
an American--Bernard Custer, of Beatrice, Nebraska, U.S.A.
Look at me. Look at me closely. Do I look like a king?"

"Every inch, your majesty," replied the officer.

Barney looked at the man aghast.

"Well, I am not a king," he said at last, "and if you go to
arresting me and throwing me into one of your musty old
dungeons you will find that I am a whole lot more important
than most kings. I'm an American citizen."

"Yes, your majesty," replied the officer, a trifle
impatiently.
"But we waste time in idle discussion. Will your majesty
be so good as to accompany me without resistance?"

"If you will first escort this young lady to a place of
safety," replied Barney.

"She will be quite safe at Blentz," said the lieutenant.

Barney turned to look at the girl, a question in his eyes.
Before them stood the soldiers with drawn revolvers, and
now at the summit of the hill a dozen more appeared in
command of a sergeant. They were two against nearly a
score, and Barney Custer was unarmed.

The girl shook her head.

"There, is no alternative, I am afraid, your majesty," she
said.

Barney wheeled toward the officer.

"Very well, lieutenant," he said, "we will accompany you."

The party turned back up the hillside, leaving the dead
bandit where he lay--the fellow's neck had been broken by
the fall. A short distance from where the man had confronted
them the two prisoners were brought to the main road
where they saw still other troopers, and with them the horses
of those who had gone into the forest on foot.