ter, and our four Zeitoonli servants cautiously approached the Rajput from behind.
"Peace!" ordered Monty. "Continue, Kagig."
Kagig held both hands toward Monty, palms upward, as if he were offering the keys of Hell and Heaven.
"You are sportmen, all of you. Shall I keep my word to you? Or shall I serve my nation in its agony?"
Monty glanced swiftly at us, but we made no sign. Will actually looked away. It was a rule we four had to leave the playing of a hand to whichever member of the partnership was first engaged; and we never regretted it, although it often called for faith in one another to the thirty-third degree. The next hand might fall to any other of us, but for the present it was Monty's play.
"We hold you to your word!" said Monty.
Kagig gasped. "But my people!"
"Keep your word to them too! Surely you haven't promised them to make us prisoner?"
"But if I am your servant—if I must obey you for two piasters a day, how shall I serve my nation?"
"Wait and see!" suggested Monty blandly.
Kagig bowed stiffly, from the neck.
"It would surprise you, effendi," he said grimly, "to know how many long years I have waited, in order that I may see what other men will do!"
Monty never answered that remark. There came a yell of "Fire!" and in less than ten seconds flames began to burst through the door that shut off the Turks' private quarters, and to lick and roar among the roof beams. The animals at the other end of the room went crazy, and there was instant panic, the Armenians outside trying to get in to help, and fighting with the men and ani-
