desert sheikh; Ole Reliable warn't studyin' these folks. He itched to find the Colonel.
"Well, Zack," Spottiswoode laughed, "I'm glad they didn't clap you in jail. Next time maybe you'll stick to me, and keep out of trouble."
"Gawd's troof, Cunnel; you hadn't no more'n turned your back befo' dem yaller policemens grabbed me. It sho is worrysome to be 'rested by niggers. Dey wouldn't lissen to no sense; jes shoved me in dat flatboat and"
"Never mind, Zack. We'll talk about that to-morrow; I'm busy now. Are you hungry?"
"Yas, suh; ain't touched a bite o' vittles."
"Wahid!" called Lyttleton Bey. Zack looked around curiously; Fudl appeared and Lyttleton ordered: "Take this man and give him food."
"Very good, sir," Fudl answered his master.
Zack felt mighty dubious about this long-shirted negro, but followed without protest in the direction of victuals.
Then an extraordinary thing happened, for Zack got quick action, action so sudden, so dramatic that it jerked every man to his feet. Everything was perfectly quiet in that room when Zack came abreast the desert Sheikh, Muza, who stood with his spearmen in the full glare of an electric light. The negro stopped and stared at the Mahometan leader, from head to foot, for one long moment of solemn surprise. Slowly a
