  For a long time before regaining full consciousness, Bob was confusedly aware of pain. He had nightmare impressions, the sort of feelings one experiences in a dream when undergoing frightful experiences from which he is unable to free himself. To Bob it was as if he lay on a torture wrack, arms and legs pinioned, and head held in a vise. Try as he would to reach up a hand to free his head of the oppression it was impossible to do so. The stars seemed to whirl around him, each with the face of an Athensian, mocking him, while a red devil in a filmy cloud who seemed to bear a striking resemblance to the fallen Athensian leader hovered just above the tip of his nose, laughing at him. All around the edges of his world—this world of pain of which he was the center—lay a thick cloud which his vision could not pierce. In it came and went the Athensian-faced stars. Once he struggled back to full consciousness. His eyes opened and he was able to note his surroundings. Then he saw that he was bound to the saddle of his camel, lying forward, almost on his chest. His hands and feet were tied, and many lashings around his body prevented him from slipping off. He even was able to note that the lashings consisted of the rope lassoo with weighted ends with which he had planned to bring down an ostrich, supplemented by the coil of wire for aerial and ground, which had hung looped to his saddle. On his head was his solar hat or sun helmet, at which he wondered dazedly. Evidently, the blow which had felled him had been broken by the helmet. Perhaps, even, it had fallen on the jutting rear brim, and thus had not crushed against his skull the little radio receiving set cunningly inserted in the crown so that to a casual glance it seemed merely a part of the helmet. If so—— But then consciousness failed, and Bob sank again into the nightmare of the wrack and the torture. When again he was restored to consciousness, the rope and wire bindings holding him in the saddle had been loosed and strong hands were lifting him to the ground, which was no great distance away as the camel had been compelled to lie down. As his feet touched the ground, Bob attempted to stand, but his legs buckled under him and he would have fallen were it not for the hands beneath his armpits. He was lowered to the ground, and lay there with eyes closed while those who had assisted him moved away. He could hear the soft swish of their moccasined feet in the sand. Cautiously, when he believed himself alone, Bob opened his eyes and found himself staring up in the crown of his sun helmet, which had been placed on his face. Yes, the blow had not wrecked the little radio set, which he could see in the crown. At least, he could discern the panel on which the instruments were placed, and which formed the bottom of the set. The blow had fallen on the rear brim, which was crushed and splintered. Bob still felt excruciating pain on the back of his head, but came to the conclusion that the softening of the blow had saved him from a crushed skull and that in a day or two he would be all right. Through this hole in the brim, resting on the tip of his nose, he could see a portion of his surroundings. The light was fading. Evidently, twilight had come. Bob wondered at that, which meant he had been riding all, or at least the better part of, the day. A halt had been called, and in the line of his vision Bob could see a fire just beginning to blaze, and the bare legs of men coming and going about it. There were no tents, and Bob’s first conclusion, namely that they had halted at an encampment of other Athensians, evidently was incorrect. The few figures, and the absence of such noises as would attend a large camp, were assurance that no additions had been made to the party. Speculation as to what would be his fate took possession of Bob, as he again closed his eyes to ease the pain behind them. That he had been captured for a purpose was apparent. Otherwise, when he had put up his heroic fight, he would have been killed. Well, at least he was to be let live; for a while, anyhow. That was something. While there was life, he told himself, there was no need to despair. Bob wondered what had become of Jack and Ali. Were they aware of his predicament? Had they seen him captured and carried away, and would Mr. Hampton set out to rescue him? Or was his fate unknown, and the outcome of his adventure dependant solely on his own exertions? Would Mr. Hampton give him up for lost and eventually carry out his plan to abandon the expedition and return to civilization? All these questions and many more passed through Bob’s brain as he lay there on the ground, while the blood slowly worked its way through his cramped limbs and he felt every minute a return of strength and even noted a diminution of the pain in his head. He was thankful that, at least, he had not been incapacitated physically, that apparently his strength and the use of his body was left him. When the time came for a break for freedom, he told himself grimly, he’d show these Athensians. At that moment, through the hole in the brim of his sun helmet, just as he again opened his eyes, he saw the legs of a man approaching. Then a hand grasped him by an arm and shook him, and the hat was lifted from his eyes. Bending over him was an Athensian, a sturdy, stockily built fellow, who jerked at his arm and indicated by signs that he was to rise to his feet. Bob struggled to comply, pretending to greater weakness than really possessed him. He figured that if he appeared to be in a weaker state than was the case, his chances for escape would be increased. The man passed an arm around Bob and placed one of Bob’s arms over his shoulders, and then walked him the few steps toward the fire. The other Athensians were seated about it, among them Bob noted with a grim reflection of satisfaction one with his face almost entirely obscured by a bandage. That must be the fellow who had felt the weight of his rifle, and had, in fact, been bowled from his saddle by it. To their rear, among a patch of stunted bush, were hobbled the horses. The leader, the one whom Bob had leaped upon in his jump from camelback, sat a little withdrawn from the others, leaning against a saddle. Bob was led to him, and with a word in an unknown tongue the leader dismissed the Athensian who bowed profoundly and withdrew. “Sit down,” commanded the leader, again employing French, and indicating a spot at his feet. Bob complied. For several moments there was silence, while both young men studied each other. Bob’s first thought was that this Athensian was little older than himself, a man of perhaps twenty-three or twenty-four. Bob was twenty-one. In appearance, the Athensian had a pleasing face. His eyes, bright blue, twinkled. The bold hawklike nose gave him an air of command, even of nobility. It was hard to judge from the seated figure, but Bob’s surmise was that the other was over the middle height, probably five feet nine or ten. In his eyes was an expression of satisfaction as the Athensian ran his glance over Bob’s figure, and the first words uttered by either was his sudden remark, shot at Bob: “Monsieur is very strong.” Sounded as if he were going to be a good sport about that leap upon him, thought Bob, and he grinned. “Did I muss you up much?” he asked in his best French, in reply. “Nothing personal, you know. I was fighting for my life.” The Athensian nodded. “Two ribs were broken when monsieur fell on me,” he said. “Say, that’s pretty tough,” commiserated Bob. “Makes it hard for you when riding, doesn’t it?” A shrug of the shoulders was the other’s sole reply, while he continued to stare at Bob. “Monsieur is, perhaps, an athlete, yes?” he asked, with rising inflection. “He participates in college sports?” Mighty chummy of him, thought Bob. “Oh, a little,” he said. “Monsieur is too modest,” the Athensian said suavely. “Doubtless, he is a great man among the youth of his land. Is it England? Monsieur is not French nor Spanish. Then he must be English. I have heard the English are fine sportsmen.” “Huh,” blurted Bob. “I’m an American. In our country we have as good sports as in England.” “An American?” queried the Athensian, in a tone of enlightenment. “Then how comes monsieur in this far country?” Bob did not reply. What could he say? He was puzzled by the Athensian’s attitude? Asking him about sports first, and then demanding how he came to be here in the Sahara. Besides, how did this Athensian happen to be speaking French, when he lived in a hidden city unknown to the world? Bob decided it would not come amiss for him to ask a question or two by way of continuing the conversation. So he smiled at the other, and said: “How do I happen to be here?” With a laugh: “Oh, just hunting ostriches when you bagged me. What was the meaning of that, anyway? You don’t look like a robber. And how is it you speak French so well?” The Athensian bent a stern gaze on Bob. The twinkle died out of his eyes. “Monsieur was not merely hunting ostriches,” he said. “Yes, perhaps, at the moment. But he came here to meet a scientific man who had blundered upon the secret of those mountains, ne c’est pas? Is it not so?” With a quick wave of his hand he indicated the Shaitun Mountains on the southern horizon, just dimly seen in the last of the fading twilight. “Now,” continued the Athensian, “monsieur will be well advised to answer me truthfully. We do not want intruders in those mountains, whence I come. We are not ready yet to receive visitors. And monsieur came to pry into our privacy. Yet it was not for that he has been captured, but for his thews.” “My what?” Bob stared open-mouthed, scarcely able to believe his ears. “The strong men among the slaves were not satisfactory this year,” said the other cryptically. “Monsieur is a good fighter. Yes, he will fight well. He will be well cared-for and be given his chance to distinguish himself.” Bob stared at the cynical, laughing face of the other. “What do you mean?” he demanded. “Monsieur will learn all in good time,” replied the Athensian. “Now he shall eat, and afterwards he shall answer my questions about his companions.” He clapped his hands, and an Athensian guard approached. The leader indicated Bob was to be led away and fed. “Remember,” he called, “monsieur will answer truthfully, or——” He left the sentence unfinished. But Bob smelled the threat of torture, just the same. |
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