Evening journal. [volume] (Wilmington, Del.) 1888-1932, 1899-04-28


university training. The result of the
conflict was still uncertain when the
professor suddenly loosed his hold and
fell back, leaving the prize of conten-
ton, the led camel, almost in the 9TH
er's clutch. Harding stopped TO seize
the creatures halter and rose again to
find himself covered by his antagonist
revolver. va-~
"Now, perhaps" the man of science
observed. you will consent to hear
reason. No use, my good friend" u.s.
Harding's hand went brislSly to his
breast pocket. 81 drew the charge while
you were asleep this morning, in view
Of possible difiiculiies. You see know
something of your strange English
character. There Is nothing like be
ire ready for difficulties as they arise"
Dick Harding, under the covering re-
volver, stood erect and-dumb. Toargue
fuyther with n man prepared TO com
init murder on behalf Of his tablets OF
baked clay we're simple waste Of breath.
Keeping the muzzle Of his weapon
pointed full at Hardlng's breast, Prof.
kirkhoffer mounted his camel, made
both his great beasts get up and began
to move off. As long as Harding re-
manned within running distance he CON
tinued TO hold the revolver raised and
leveled, sitting sideways on his animal
TO insure an accurate aim. But after a
minute the camels broke into a long,
awkward trot; in two minutes they
were beyond pursuit; three-and the
professor pocketed his firearm and
threw his leg across the saddle. "Your
own fault, remember" was his final
greeting before he disappeared over the
! top of the nearest sand-dune.
When he had disappeared Harding
looked about him. reviewing the situa-
ton. 1t was no cheering prospect that
met his eye; dead waste of sand-hins
to north, south, cast and west, white
hot in the glare Of the tropical sun.
Two dark blotches alone broke the pale
surface of the wilderness-the stiffen-
ing bulk Of the dead camel and he limp
figure OF the feyer-stricken camel
driver. Truly no pleasant place TO
die in; more especially If you happen
10 be young and strong, and the death
to which you stand condemned is death
by hunger and thirst. A few hours
would exhaust the scanty remains of
food and water left in the skin and sad
dle-bag lying hard by the dead camel
and then
Harding shook off anticipations of
coming torture to take stock of his
wretched commissariat. and, rummag-
ing the bag, found priceless treasure
nothing less than an untouched bottle
Of quiuine! Why, with this he might
hope 10 revive the Khirgiz, whose case
but Cor the supposed exhaustion Of the
expeditions medicine chest, had nevel
been serious one. Escape was YET
possible.
Escape? From a trackless wilder
ness in which they could only wander
to and fro, having no single instru
ment by which TO determine their po
sition or point the way? Saving hi
assistants pack. the professor had car
ried off everything.
No, not everything. Even as thi
thought sank like stone into Hard
ing's heart his eye fell upon something
glittering at his foot. With shaking
hand he grasped it, lifted it--and brok
b into n cry OF mingled triumph ant
p thanksgiving, which startled the Khir
giz from his lethargy. Pushing bncl
his long hair, the man made an effor
to sit up.
''The master? Where is the master?
he asked, looking about him in sur
prise.
Harding laughed grimly. "Heayci
alone knows, since he has left his com
! pass here"
D And heaven alone knows TO this hou
the course of the wretched Kirkhoifer'
d wanderings. When Harding and tn
Khirgiz, guided by the instrumen
I which he had dropped in his scufil
: with the Englishman, reached, afte
d manifold tolls and sufferings. the cor
fines of human habitation they cOul
10 obtain no tidings of their vanishe
chief. And although Harding inslste
r on organizing a new expedition +
search for him. its labors were fruit
less.
e His fate remains as unknown TO I'll
e world as the history Of that ancier
o empire whose records lie buried wit
i him in the sands Of central Asia--Ch
e cago Record.