  Far ahead we could see the outlines of Tel-Ambra standing clear against the blue sky, and toward this we headed, for our friends would be there awaiting us. Our pursuers also redoubled their pace, and it became a set race in which only the endurance of our animals was of importance. The camels we rode were among the best of Gege-Merak’s herd, and we saw with satisfaction that they could easily keep the distance between ourselves and the Arabs. Gradually the mound grew nearer and we strained our eyes to discover Uncle Naboth and his party, who should be near its base. Perhaps they were on the other side, and had not observed our approach. The quick pace was beginning to tell on our camels, which all breathed heavily; but on we dashed at full speed, for the remaining distance was short. We reached the base of the hill, skirted it without slacking rein, and then with a sense of dismay realized that we were alone upon the desert—save for that grim and relentless band following in our wake. Uncle Naboth, the Professor, Ned Britton, the sailors and Bry—even the camels with the treasure—had all been swallowed up by the mysterious waste of sands. And now we three boys, left to our fate, must show the mettle we were made of. We halted our panting camels, backed them against a rocky cliff of Tel-Ambra, and hastily unslung our repeating rifles. “Don’t let us be captured without a struggle, boys,” I exclaimed. “We’ll fight while there’s a bullet left or a breath in us,” responded Archie, promptly. “All right, fellows, if you say so,” said Joe, strapping on his cartridge belt; “but it seems to me you’re making a mistake.” “How so?” I asked, rather indignantly. “Look at them,” said Joe. The Arabs had halted just out of range, but we could count their numbers now. “There are about twenty of the rascals, and they’re all armed. We can’t hope to beat them in a fight. We can kill a few, of course, but they’ll down us in the end. And what then? Why, they’ll be mad as hornets, and want revenge. It’s natural. But as it now stands we are not the enemies of these heathens, as I can see, having had no dealings with them. I understand they want to rob us, for they think we’ve got the money those merchants paid Archie—that beast Abdul Hashim is at the head of them. But if we submit quietly to being searched they won’t find any money and they’ll scarcely dare kill us for disappointing them.” “I don’t know about that,” said Archie, eyeing the foe fiercely. “I’ve heard Van Dorn say these Arabs will kill a Christian as calmly as they’ll eat a dinner. They think a good Mahommedan will gain paradise by killing an infidel dog. And besides that, if they try to rob us and then let us go our ways, they’ll be afraid we will make trouble for them with the police. No, Joe; it’s robbery they mean first, and murder afterward; you can rely upon that.” “Maybe so, sir,” answered Joe. “But I was just looking for our one chance. To fight means sure death; to give in quietly means a hope for life—not a great hope, sir, but one just big enough to hang your hat on. If you say fight, I’m with you. If you say be foxy and try diplomacy, I’ll like it better.” “Humph!” said I, partly convinced. “Perhaps Joe’s right.” “I’m sure he is,” responded Archie, frankly. “But I hate to see those beggars down us so easily.” “Discretion is the better part of valor,” I quoted, pompously; yet I longed to fight, too. “We aren’t giving in, fellows,” declared Joe; “we’re just playing our best cards in the game, and it isn’t our fault if we don’t hold all trumps. Come on; don’t let’s act like cowards, or even whipped curs. Let’s go to meet them—and, say, put up your rifles. We won’t show any force, but try to smile and look pleasant.” The Arabs had been conversing together, evidently trying to decide how to attack us. They knew if they came within range of our rifles some of them would be shot down, and since they now had us safely snared they might take time to figure out the problem. Had there been any hope of our overtaking our friends I should have advised keeping the Arabs at bay as long as possible. But as far as the eye could reach, in every direction, the desert was deserted save by the two groups at Tel-Ambra. What, I questioned, anxiously, could have induced my uncle and Ned Britton to desert us? Such an act was wholly unlike them, and there must indeed have been a powerful reason behind it. At present it was all a profound mystery to us, and we had no time to make an attempt to unravel the web. Thinking Joe’s counsel good, in the circumstances, we started our camels and advanced leisurely toward the Arabs. They were startled at first, expecting a fight; then, as they saw our rifles slung over our shoulders, they became puzzled by our audacity and amazed at our boldness. But they stood in a motionless group awaiting our approach, and as we drew near to them I, being slightly in advance of the other two, said in a voice which I strove to render calm: “Good day, gentlemen. Can you tell us the way to the village of Laketa? I’m afraid we’ve missed the trail.” The Arabs looked at us stupidly a moment, and then Abdul Hashim spurred his donkey—a strong, thin limbed beast—toward me and touched his turban. His gesture indicated respect, but his steady eyes were as unfathomable as a pool at midnight. “The blessing of Allah be thine, Effendi,” said he. “What is your errand at Laketa?” “To rejoin the rest of our party,” I answered confidently. “Ah, yes; your party from the ship, with the red-bearded jackal Van Dorn at their head,” he said, with a flash of resentment as he mentioned the Professor. “You are wrong in one thing,” said I, calmly. “Naboth Perkins, my uncle, heads the party.” “Why try to deceive us, Effendi?” asked Abdul Hashim, in a sterner tone. “You take me for a fool, it seems; and a fool I am not. You would not be here—you could not be here—unless led by the red-beard, who is a dog and a traitor to his masters.” “I don’t answer for Van Dorn,” I replied, with a shrug. “It seems you know the Professor, and don’t like him; but I’m sure that is none of our business. All we ask of you is the favor of a courteous direction to Laketa. If you will not give this, we must proceed without it, and find the place the best way we can.” I had observed that as we conversed the band of Arabs had crept around our group, slowly encircling us in all directions, so that now they fairly hemmed us in. Also their long rifles were in their hands and their belts were stuck full of pistols and knives. The party had been formed for warfare, without a doubt. Although noting all this I endeavored to appear unconcerned as I awaited the sheik’s reply. The latter smiled rather grimly and said: “We will indeed be your guides, young sirs; but not to Laketa. Forgive me if I ask for your companionship until you have told us all I wish to know.” “And what is that, Abdul Hashim?” I asked boldly. “You know my name?” “Of course. We knocked you down that evening we rescued Van Dorn from your clutches in Alexandria, and he told us your history. The Professor wanted us to kill you; but we refused. Perhaps you remember that?” “I remember that I owe my life to my own skill, and not to your mercy.” He expressed himself in excellent English, for an Arab. But the English have occupied Egypt for so long that nearly all the natives have learned to speak or at least understand our language. “You have not told me what it is that you wish to know,” I said, impatiently. He looked me over with a thoughtful expression and proceeded to examine each of my comrades, in turn. Then he said, abruptly: “You will come to my village.” At once the Arabs began to move forward, and we, being surrounded, were forced to accompany them. They were an evil appearing lot, dirty and hungry looking, and I did not doubt that any one of them would murder us with much satisfaction, merely for the pleasure of killing. As for Abdul Hashim himself, I began to perceive he was a character, and one worth studying in other circumstances. Never have I seen more handsome features on any man, but they were as immobile as if carved from marble. Any expression you might read showed in his eyes, which he could not control so well as he did his face. Usually they were calm as those of the sphinx, but at times they flashed evilly—nay, even with a gleam of madness in them—and always they were cruel and terrible in their aspect. In civilized countries a man like this would be greatly dreaded; here he was an insignificant sheik, with a handful of followers too degraded to be of any importance. We passed around Tel-Ambra to the left and headed for the small group of rude stone huts which the Professor had sighted the night before and had aroused in him such violent emotions. The place was not far distant from the three ancient palms, and as we rode along I glanced over the desert to try to discover the spot where the treasure was hid; but the endless, undulating sands refused to reveal their secret. Indeed, the brisk morning breeze appeared to have smoothed away every trace of our night’s work. Abdul Hashim said little until we reached his village, which had hastily been rebuilt after the police had demolished it. Even before then it must have been a miserable affair; now it was scarce worthy the name of village, or suitable for mortal habitation. Doubtless the only object of a settlement at this place was to waylay travelers who crossed the desert from the Red Sea, and I could conjecture without much chance of going wrong that robbery had been the only means of livelihood for its inhabitants. Entering a narrow street we were told to dismount in front of the most important hovel the place contained. We obeyed because we could not well do otherwise. Abdul Hashim personally ushered us into the dwelling, and as we entered the Arabs slily cut the straps of our rifles and took the weapons from us. We dared not resent this insult, but though we made no protest in words we were angry enough when we turned to face the sheik, who alone had entered with us. The room consisted of four bare stone walls of uneven height, only a portion of the inclosed space being roofed or thatched with palm branches. Slabs and blocks of stone lay around in all directions, as if the work of restoring the walls was still incomplete. In one corner a black goat with a white spot over one eye lay asleep in the shade, and a rude bed of palm leaves stood underneath the thatch. “Now,” began our captor, in a brusk tone, “let us come to an understanding, if you will. You gidÂn “One night he found the treasure, and with him at the time were two of my tribe—one being my own brother—and the slave Van Dorn. Lovelace Pasha took a few jewels and started to return to my village, but the discovery had driven Van Dorn mad. He shot my men and killed them, and would have shot Lovelace Pasha had he not caught and held the red-beard and wrenched the pistol from his grasp. So my friend bound Van Dorn with ropes and brought him to my village, with the sad news of the crime he had committed. Also Lovelace Pasha showed me the jewels which he had taken, and said there was much treasure to divide and that I should have my share according to the compact, as I had been faithful to him. “My people, gidÂn, do not take vengeance upon those whom Allah has smitten with madness; so we did no harm to Van Dorn. Lovelace Pasha declared the fellow was without mind or reason, but offered to care for him until the morning, as he did not fear him. So he took him into his house and my village went to sleep. “In the morning we found that another great crime had been committed. Van Dorn had broken his bonds, stabbed Lovelace Pasha to the heart, robbed him of the jewels, and escaped to Luxor. With him he carried the secret of where the treasure lay hid, and too late we gained the knowledge that the red-beard was not mad, as one without reason, but merely mad to gain all the treasure for himself and willing to kill and defy all who stood in the way of his gaining the vast store his master had discovered. For, mark the cunning of the miserable thief, Effendi: this Van Dorn told the police that I and my people had murdered the great Lovelace Pasha, and the governor, believing him, sent a strong force to my village and destroyed it, declaring me and all my tribe outlaws. “Thus did the jackal add to his crimes and prove he was not afflicted of Allah, but by the devil of the Christians. And, tell me, would a Christian, even, love him after this? “I followed him secretly to Alexandria and with some friends to assist me was about to capture Van Dorn and make him lead us where the treasure is hid, when he cried out in fear and your party came to his rescue. Again he escaped me, for you took him aboard your ship and sailed away. I watched you, and feared that my revenge and the secret of the treasure were both lost to me. Then I remembered the jackal’s slyness, and knew that some time he would return to secure the wealth that was hid in the sands near to my village. So I came home to watch for him, yet I did not expect him to act so soon. In Luxor I saw you and recognized the fact that you belonged to the ship in which Van Dorn had sailed away. They told me you had ridden your camels in from the desert, therefore I knew you had followed the trail from the Red Sea. It was all plain enough, with a little thought. I got my men together and followed you, as you know.” The sheik paused. He had spoken earnestly and well, and his story bewildered us because we had until now believed in the plausible tale the Professor had told us. If Abdul Hashim’s relation was true the little Professor was indeed a diabolical scoundrel; and I had a secret conviction that a part of it, at least, was to be believed rather than Van Dorn’s version. But was not Abdul Hashim also a scoundrel and thief? You had but to look at the fellow to doubt that there was an honest hair in his head. Privately I decided that neither was entitled to any share of Lovelace’s find; but however the original discoverer had been done to death a bitter feud had undoubtedly sprung up between Van Dorn and the Arab—both eager to profit by Lovelace Pasha’s murder. “Tell me,” resumed the sheik, abruptly, “where is your ship—at Koser?” I nodded. “And you came over the caravan route through the mountains?” I nodded again. “Perhaps, then, you know when the jackal will try to secure the treasure?” the sheik continued, eyeing me intently. I decided there was little harm in being frank with the man. He knew there was a treasure and that Van Dorn was after it and would not rest till he got it. So it would avail us nothing to lie, and I hoped our final safety might result from being frank and truthful. “Van Dorn has already secured the treasure,” I answered. For the first time the passionate heart of the man conquered his impassive frame. He gave a start of dismay and his face was for an instant contorted with fear and anger. But presently he controlled himself with a great effort and asked: “When was this, Effendi?” “Last night.” “Were you with him?” “Yes.” “Where, then, is the robber now?” “I do not know. We went to Luxor on business and our party was to wait for us at Tel-Ambra. When we arrived they were gone.” I had reminded him of something. He looked at Archie and said: “You received some money at Luxor. This is a dangerous place, so I will myself take care of your money until you are in safety, or rejoin your friends. Give it to me.” Archie grinned. “Why, you’re as big a thief as Van Dorn,” he answered, easily. “But I’ve fooled you, my good Arab. The money is now in Cook’s bank at Luxor, and I don’t believe they’ll give it up if you go and ask them.” The Arab frowned; but perhaps he remembered there was more important game to be bagged, for he said no more about Archie’s money, to the boy’s great relief. “Did the jackal secure much treasure?” he inquired, turning to me with a trace of eagerness in his voice. “Quite a lot. Enough to load two camels,” I replied. “And did any remain after that?” “Plenty, as far as I could judge.” “Where is the place?” “I could not find it again if I tried; nor could my companions. Van Dorn did not tell us how to get to it. He led us there at night, and it is still his secret as far as we are concerned.” After this Abdul Hashim began to pace nervously up and down the room, the floor of which was hard earth. Suddenly he paused. “How many people came with you from Koser?” he demanded. I was glad he asked the question that way, for it gave me an opportunity to answer truthfully and still mislead him. “Gege-Merak, who guided us, had an escort of six Bega warriors; in our party were nine—fifteen in all,” said I. “Gege-Merak!” he exclaimed, in an annoyed tone, and resumed his pacing. Evidently the news did not please him. I acknowledge that I hardly knew how to conduct myself in so strange an emergency. The question was whether to try to make an ally of the sheik or to defy him. It naturally worried me to be separated from my uncle and his party of Americans, of whose fate I now stood in doubt. The treasure I believed to be seriously threatened by Gege-Merak, who had so inopportunely discovered our secret, and the chief would have no hesitation in murdering us all if he found an opportunity. With Abdul Hashim on our side we might successfully defy Gege-Merak, yet to set the Arab on the trail meant sure death to the Professor and a loss of much of the treasure, since the sheik would be sure to put forward his claim for a division, under the alleged compact existing between himself and Lovelace. Truly we Americans were in double peril, from the Bega chief on one side and the Arab sheik on the other; and how we might extricate ourselves from the difficulties that beset us was a difficult problem. If we three boys were again with Ned and Uncle Naboth we could assist them to fight it out, but our loss must have weakened them greatly, and alone we three were well nigh powerless. “Fifteen,” repeated Abdul Hashim, musingly; “fifteen. Are you Americans true men?” he then inquired, with an appearance of earnestness. “True as steel,” I said. “Will they deliver Van Dorn to my vengeance?” The question amused me. “No, sheik; they will be true to Van Dorn, who has been true to them. They do not know the story you have just told me, and have no grievance against the man.” “But when they learn the truth will they deliver him up?” he persisted. “I think not. My uncle would take an American’s word in preference to that of an Arab.” “I must fight,” said Abdul Hashim, as if to himself. “But not openly. I must meet treachery with treachery. Very good.” He stopped and looked at us with composure, as if he had settled all difficulties in his own mind and outlined a plan of action. “I shall yet secure my treasure and my revenge,” he continued, and then bowed low to us and left the room. The bow was a mockery, and we felt less assurance in the sheik’s absence than when we faced him. But here we were, prisoners of an unscrupulous and lawless Arab, and realizing that any present attempt to escape would be useless, we sat down upon the palm branches to await the next act in the drama. |
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