CHAPTER XI. THE STRANGER REVIVES.

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Some distance from the oasis, Mr. Hampton and Frank were encountered, riding to meet them.

“Where’s Bob?” called Frank, in an anxious tone. He and the big fellow were very close. Frank’s mother had died when he was a baby, and his father, business partner of Bob Temple’s father, had followed her a few years later. Ever since, the orphaned Frank had made his home with the Temples, and he was engaged to Bob’s sister, Della.

To Frank’s anxious inquiry, Mr. Hampton added:

“When Ali’s camel came in alone we knew something had happened and set out to meet you at once.”

“Well, Dad, something has happened all right,” said Jack, dejectedly. “Or rather it’s all wrong. Bob has been captured. We don’t know how.”

Thereupon, while they all made their way back to the oasis, he proceeded to explain events as they had occurred so far as he knew them. What actually had happened in Bob’s case, of course, was not known. But as our readers know, Jack and Ali had guessed at the truth.

By the time the account was concluded, they had arrived at the encampment and dismounted. Mr. Hampton looked very grave and care-worn. The deaths of the Professor and Ben Hassim already had weighted him down. Now the capture of Bob, whom he loved as if he were a son, filled him with grief. A malignant, unseen power seemed pursuing this expedition, which had started out peacefully intent only on establishing amicable relations with the mysterious dwellers of the Shaitun Mountains and on adding to the sum of the world’s useful knowledge. Truly, he thought, gazing out through the trees of the oasis across the vast reaches of the desert toward the mountains on the far northern horizon, truly, they were well named the mountains of Satan.

Had he had any premonition of the reception with which they would meet at the hands of the Athensians, Mr. Hampton never would have financed nor launched the expedition. But he realized the futility of vain regrets. Now was not the time to devote to such thoughts. One thing must be done, one thing alone, and done at once; that was, to start swift pursuit for the purpose of rescuing Bob.

Turning to the boys, he bade them pack up at once the few things absolutely necessary, but not to incommode themselves with articles which could be dispensed with. As they leaped to obey, he ordered Ali to summon the Arabs. The men who already had received from Ali a brief account of what had occurred on the ostrich hunt, quickly assembled. Their swarthy determined faces formed a group at which Mr. Hampton looked with approval. Picked men all, he could not ask for better support at his back. Nevertheless, he felt it was only fair that they should be appraised fully of the dangers attendant upon the proposed expedition, and should be allowed to exercise their own choice as to whether to accompany him or not.

“Ali,” he said, when all the men were assembled, “I want you to tell these men that I am going to start at once in pursuit of the band which has taken Bob prisoner. If we can cut the fugitives off before they reach the Shaitun Mountains or catch up with greater numbers, as it is possible another band awaits them, we stand a good chance of rescuing Bob. But, as I say, it is quite possible this small band of ten men was merely an offshoot of a larger band. In that case, the others may turn on us and we could not outrun them and would have to make a fight for it. Against any such band as that which swept the oasis the night the Professor was killed, we would stand little chance for our lives. Therefore, I think it only right that the men should make their own choice as to whether they go with me or await my return here. If none go, I’ll still make the attempt at rescue with my son and Mr. Frank.”

Ali listened impassively, and on the conclusion of Mr. Hampton’s little speech turned to his comrades whom he addressed briefly. Mr. Hampton watched their faces as Ali was speaking. What he saw pleased him mightily. A sharp fierce cry, coming as if from one throat, issued from the group at the conclusion of Ali’s words. He turned to Mr. Hampton with a satisfied smile.

“They all go,” he said simply.

“Good,” said Mr. Hampton, not a little affected. “Good.”

“They say Mr. Bob is worth dying for,” added Ali. “Every man loves him. If there is a fight and they die, well, you know, sir, Paradise awaits the Arab who falls in battle.”

Mr. Hampton nodded, unable to trust himself to speak for a moment, as he thought of Bob and the devotion of these Arabs to him. Then when he found his voice he added huskily:

“If any man dies, I’ll provide for his family, Ali, if he has a family. And to all I’ll give double wages for the entire trip should we get safely back to civilization. Tell them that, please. Also, I’ll give each man right now, or as soon as I can write it, an order on the Cairo bankers for 25 pounds (about $1,250). Thus, if I fall, the men still will be provided for.”

Ali repeated Mr. Hampton’s words, and a hum of approval rose from the half dozen Arabs. The sum mentioned was more than any one of them ever dreamed of possessing at one time, and would represent affluence, indeed.

While the Arabs, under Ali’s direction, sorted out the equipment to be taken and baled up the remainder to be left at the oasis in charge of old Allola, Mr. Hampton retired to his tent to write the necessary bank drafts. Also, he drew up a document for his Cairo bankers, incorporating the provisions of his pledge to the Arabs, which he intended to leave with Allola, with explicit instructions that it should be sent out of the desert by the first trustworthy rider who should appear at the oasis.

To Allola, he made a handsome present in money. As for the old woman’s welfare, she had the sheep and goats, the garden patches, the fig trees, and would not suffer for sustenance, should they fail to return. Soon or later some Bedouins of the desert would arrive at the oasis, moreover. And, as, despite her age, the old woman was spry and could get about easily, she had little to fear.

Disposition of the wounded Athensian puzzled Mr. Hampton. All day the man had been tossing and muttering at a great rate, and Mr. Hampton believed that the fever was leaving him and that in another day or two he would recover consciousness and could be questioned. Even as he wrote, he was conscious of the other man muttering on the divan behind him.

Going to the door, Mr. Hampton called Allola to him and into her care gave the papers he had drawn with explicit order for their disposal, together with a sum of money not only for herself but for the messenger she should select. Of the old woman’s honesty and willingness to carry out his orders, he had no doubt whatsoever, as gratitude for her rescue made her slave-like in devotion.

He noted the Arabs loading the camels lightly, and storing the balance of their equipment in one of the tents. With approval he saw Frank and Jack putting the Professor’s radio sending apparatus, in its shallow trunk, on one of the camels. There was always the possibility that it would come in useful, and Frank had finished restoring it to order only that morning.

Then while he still talked to Allola Mr. Hampton heard a sharp cry from the tent, and whirled around. It had come from the wounded Athensian. With Allola at his heels, Mr. Hampton hurried to the other man’s side and bent down to look at him. He gave an exclamation of surprise. The man’s eyes regarded him in puzzled bewilderment, filled with the light of returning reason. Putting a hand on his forehead, Mr. Hampton noted it was cool and moist, indicating the last of the fever had fled.

The other continued to stare at him, unbelievingly, and Mr. Hampton decided to see if his prisoner really had been restored to his senses.

“Do you know where you are?” he asked, slowly, in the Athensian words taught him by Professor Souchard.

Almost it seemed as if fear leaped into the man’s eyes. Certainly they were filled with amazement.

“Who are you?” he demanded.

“I am a stranger who was passing by and saved you when otherwise you would have died,” said Mr. Hampton.

“You do not speak my tongue well,” replied the other slowly. “How is it you speak it at all?”

“That explanation can wait,” said Mr. Hampton. “In the meantime, I have a question or two to ask, which I hope you will be good enough to answer. Excuse me, first.”

With a whispered injunction to Allola to stay or watch, he hurried out of the tent and called Jack, Frank and Ali to him. Briefly, he explained the prisoner was conscious, and that they must delay a few minutes in order that he might be questioned. It was possible that from him some information of great value might be obtained.

Returning, Mr. Hampton found Allola giving the Athensian a drink from the canvas water jar which always was kept hanging in the draught at the doorway so that evaporation kept the water cool. He was turning over in his mind the possibilities, and wondering which of the many questions crowding for answer he should put. His small stock of Athensian words, moreover, complicated the task. But the other, palpably refreshed and strengthened by his drink, solved a portion of his problem by addressing him in French as he approached.

“Monsieur, doubtless speaks French,” said the Athensian cooly. “This knowledge of my language is deplorable. Let us speak therefore in French.”

“Agreed,” said Mr. Hampton. “Only, let me say that your surprise at my partial knowledge of your language was no greater than mine at hearing such excellent French from your lips.”

“How long have I lain here?” asked the man abruptly.

“Ten days,” said Mr. Hampton.

“And you have cared for me all that time? I must have been very ill.”

“I have cared for you,” said Mr. Hampton gravely. “And you were ill, very ill, you came close to death.”

“Ah,” muttered the Athensian, his eyelids fluttering shut. They remained so a moment, then snapped open with the effect of a camera shutter’s quick flicker. Mr. Hampton was surprised at the vigor of the other’s glance. “And has no attempt been made by others to come and get me?”

“None,” said Mr. Hampton.

“Ah,” said the man once more. Again his eyes closed. Again they opened, and this time they seemed filled with ferocity.

“Would monsieur say I had been left as if it were believed I was dead?” he demanded.

                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                           

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