call him back. Every Arab at the gate rose promptly and salaamed, which tickled Zack into good humor again. So he strolled out smiling, and sat down upon the river bank to watch some Gippy soldiers who were loading donkeys on a barge. Zack loved to see those yellow negroes work, but sniffed in contempt at their uniforms.
He had long ceased to consider General Durham, who was taking counsel with his officers, "Lyttleton, what do you think? Shall we let this negro stay in the Sudan, and take a chance? Or had we better ask Colonel Spottiswoode to send him home?"
If Lyttleton had been a Roman he would have fought as Fabius—cautiously. So he answered, "You know, General, I always advise the safer course—take no chances with these people. This black man seems to get them excited."
"Gentlemen, I beg your pardon," Colonel Spottiswoode arose and spoke most earnestly, "I regret this annoyance. Of course, I cannot understand the Sudan, but I do know that this old negro will never make trouble for anybody except himself—or me. He's forgot all about that necklace, and"
"What's that?" Every officer wheeled and faced toward the gate. Outside a cry uprose, a wild excited cry from many Arab throats. For a moment Lyttleton and the General looked at
