Why, everyone there can now sleep with open doors and if you yourself were to lie dead drunk in the public thoroughfare you would not have your money stolen from your pocket any more." Squire Gerzson protested vehemently against the assumption that he was in the habit of sprawling tipsily on the king's high road.
"I'll tell you," said he, "why everything is so secure just now.

The confiscated gold of Fatia Negra is still at Gyula Fehervar, as a forfeit to the crown, and, sooner or later, must be sent to Vienna.

Fatia Negra is _not_ dead, his robber band has _not_ been captured and does _not_ sit in irons at Gyula Fehervar, and the present tranquillity and imagined security suit their plans nicely.

The band now pretends to have vanished, but just you wait till the gold is sent under convoy from Gyula Fehervar to Vienna--and you will see some fun." "How do you know that ?" "I know it sir, because I know that this man, this brazen faced, iron-fisted man is not such a chicken-hearted creature as to allow a half-million or so to be snatched from him without stirring every nerve and muscle to try and win it back again.

For I know that hitherto he has always triumphed over the power of the law and has always escaped from the most dangerous ambushes." "Well, all I can say is that I do not understand what you have to do with this worthy man." * * * * * The falsely coined gold pieces deposited at Gyula Fehervar, had, after the trial was over, to be sent to Hungary to be recoined.