"It won't do to trifle with this chap, Peggy," said Monty, coming quite close to her. "Don't lead him on. He might get nasty if he thinks you're making sport of him."
"You are quite absurd, Monty," she cried, petulantly. "I am not making sport of him."
"Well, then, why don't you tell him to go about his business?"
"I don't see any beads lying around loose," said "Rip" tormentingly. The sheik impatiently said something to the interpreter and that worthy repeated it for Peggy's benefit.
"The Son of the Prophet desires that you be as quick as possible, Queen of the World. He tires of waiting and commands you to come with him at once."
Peggy winced and her eyes shot a brief look of scorn at the scowling sheik. In an instant, however, she was smiling agreeably and was turning toward the steps.
"Holy mackerel! Where are you going, Peggy?" cried Lotless, the first to turn fearful.
"To throw some things into my trunk," she responded airily. "Will you come with me, Mary?"
"Peggy!" cried Brewster angrily. "This has gone far enough."
