to me just the same, rather than risk an open quarrel with Chu-Chu. Then, feeling that I might take the matter to the prefect of police, it was very possible that he would feel himself unfortunately compelled to put me out of permanent action. And I knew that in this he would find an enthusiastic ally in Chu-Chu.
Therefore, as the thing framed up, it appeared that I stood no chance of getting the pearls, whether Chu-Chu owned up or not, but I did stand a good chance of losing my life. Then why didn't I get out of the house while there was still time? For the simple reason that I had gone there after the pearls, and I meant to have them.
Now, it may not look so at first glance, but as a matter of fact the odds were a bit with me. How? It's easy enough. Ivan might know what Chu-Chu would do and Chu-Chu might know what Ivan would do, and I had a darn good idea of what both of them would do. But neither of them knew what I was going to do, and I did. It would never have occurred to their European minds. Your American crook would have thought of it first jump; not that he's keener, but because my plan was the American plan. This was merely to hold them both up before they had a chance to guess at what was coming.
Perhaps that sounds too easy to you, because you are American yourself. But let me explain. Every race has its own method of violence. The Oriental loves poison and slaves behind arras and all that sort of thing in settling misunderstandings. The Teuton likes a duel, the Latin races a knife or stiletto—all good enough in their way and plenty efficient, but
