don't mind trying a hand at it right now. Perhaps I
have forgotten something of my old skill, but we'll see. Come, hen."

All arose now and gathered about him on the ground there in the full
sunlight. He evinced no uneasiness or surprise, and he employed no
mechanism or deception which we could detect.

"My good man," said he to Auberry, "let me take your knife." Auberry
loosed the long hunting-knife at his belt and handed it to him. Taking
it, Orme seated himself cross-legged on a white blanket, which he spread
out on the sandy soil.

All at once Orme looked up with an expression of surprise on his face.
"This was not the knife I wanted," he said. "I asked for a plain
American hunting-knife, not this one. See, you have given me a Malay
kris! I have not the slightest idea where you got it."

We all looked intently at him. There, held up in his hand, was full
proof of what he had said--a long blade of wavy steel, with a little
crooked, carved handle. From what I had read, I saw this to be a kris, a
wavy bladed knife of the Malays. It did not shine or gleam in the sun,
but threw back a dull reflection from its gray steel, as though lead and
silver mingled in its make. The blade was about thirty inches long,
whereas that of Auberry's knife could not have exceeded eight inches at
the most.

"We did not know you had that thing around you!" exclaimed Belknap.
"That is only sleight of hand."

"Is it, indeed?" said Orme, smiling. "I tell you, I did not have it with
me. After all, you see it is the same knife."

We all gaped curiously, and there, as I am a living man, we saw that
wavy kris, extended in his hand, turn back into the form of the
plainsman's hunting-knife! A gasp of wonder and half terror came from
the circle. Some of the men drew back. I heard an Irish private swear
and saw him cross himself. I do not explain these things, I only say I
saw them.

"I was mistaken," said Orme, politely, "in offering so simple a test as
this; but now, if you still think I had the kris in my clothing--how
that could be, I don't know, I'm sure--and if you still wish to call my
little performance sleight of hand, then I'll do something to prove what
I have said, and make it quite plain that all my friend here has said is
true and more than true. Watch now, and you will see blood drip from the
point of this blade--every drop of blood it ever drew, of man or animal.
Look, now--watch it closely."

We looked, and again, as I am a