Ottumwa tri-weekly courier. [volume] (Ottumwa, Iowa) 1903-1916, 1912-01-23
him, that was all Mahomed desired.

1
| George made no further effort to
free himself, nor apparently to bestir
himself about the future. Somewhere
in the fight, presumably as he fell
against the. table, he had received a
crushing blow in the small ribs; and
when Mahomed threw him. back, he
tainted for the second time in his life
He reclned Imply in the corner Of the
carriage. the bosom of his shirt bulg
| ing open; for the thrifty Arabs had
purloined the pearl-studs, the gold col
lar buttons, and the sapphire cuff
links. And, consciousness returned
only when they lifted him out and
dropped him inconsiderately into the
thick dust of the road. He stirred
again at his bonds, but presently lay
still. The pain in his side hurt keen
ly, and he wasn't sure that the rib was
whole. What time had passed since
his entrance to the English-Bar was
beyond his reckoning, but he knew that
1t was yet in the dark of night, as no
light whatever penetrated the cloth
over his eyes. That he was some
where outside tn city he was assured
by the tang of the winter wind. He
heard low voices--Arabic and while
The possessed a smattering of the
tongue, his head ached too sharply
for him to sense a word. Later. q
camel coughed. Camels? And where
were they taking him upon camel?
Bagdad? Impossible; there were too
many white men following the known
camel-Ways. He groaned little, but
the sound did not reach the ears of his
captors. To ride camel under ortli-
nary conditions was q painful affair,
but to straddle the ungainly brute.
dressed as he was, in swallow-tail
and paper-thin pumps, did not promote
ny pleasurable thoughts. They would
/ In all truth kill him before they got
through. Hang the rug! And doubly
hang the man who had sold it to him
His whilom friend, conscience, came
back and gibbered at him. Once she
had said: Don't do IT," and now
she was saying quite humanity: II told
you SOL" Hadn't she warned him?
Hadn't she swung her red lantern un-
der his very nose? WE'LL she hoped
he was satisfied. His reply to this
brief jeremiad was that If ever he got
his hands upon the rug again. he would
hang on till the crack of doom, and
conscience herself could 60 hang Mere
perverseness, probably. And where
was it, since he was now certain that
Mahomed had 1t not? It was Ryanne:
Ryanne, smooth and plausible OF
| tongue. Not being satisfied with Al
thousand pounds, he had stolen 1t
again to mulct some other simple,
trustful person. George, usually so I'M
suspicious, was now quite willing to
believe anything OF anybody.
He felt himself being lifted to his
| feet. The rope round his ankles was
thrown off, His feet stung under the
renewed flood of blood. He waited for
them to liberate his hands, but the
calling rope was not disturbed It was
evident that the natives still enter
tanned some respect for his fighting
ability. Next, they boosted him, flung
leg here and leg there; then came
lurch forward a lurch backward. the
recurrence Of the pain in his side, and
ne knew that he was upon the back
OF camel, desert-bound. There were
stirrups, and as life began to spread
vigor once more through his legs, he
found the steel. The straps were too
short, and In time the upper turn OF
the steel chafed his insteps Hc eased
himself by riding sidewise, the proper
way to ride camel, but with con-
slant straining to keep his balance
without the use Of his hands. For
tunately, they were not travelling very.
fast, otherwise, what with the stabbing
pains in his side. produced by the un-
varying dog-trot, he must have fallen.
He was miserable, yet defiant; tears
OF anger and pain filled his eyes and
burned down his cheeks in spite OF
the cloth.
And he, poor fool, had always been
longing for an adventure a taste Of life
outside the peaceful harbor wherein
he had sailed his cat-boat! Well, here
he was. In the deep-sea water; and he
read himself so truly that he knew
the adventure he had longed for had
been the cut-and-dried affairs Of story
tellers, in which only the Williams were
seriously disconnected, and every
thing ended happily. A dashing hero
he was, to be sure! Why hadn't he
changed his clothes? Was there ever
such an ass? Ryanne had told him
that there was likely to be sport; and
yet he had left the hotel as one dressed
for the opera. ASS! And tomorrow
the Ludwig would sail without him.
The wind blew cold against his chest,
and the fact that he could neither see,
nor use his tongue to moisten his
bruised lips, added to the discomforts.
Back and forth he swayed and rocked.
The pain in his side was gradually
minimized by the torture bearing upon
his ankles, his knees. across his should
ers. Finally, when in dull despair he
was about to give up and slide of,
Indifferent whether the car1eIs follow
ing trampled him or not, halt was
called. It steadied him. Some one
reached up and united the thong that
strangled the life in his hands. For
ward again. This was trifie better.
He could now ease himself with his
hands. No one interfered with him
when he tore off the bandages over his
eyes and mouth. The camels were
now urged to swfter pace.
Egyptian night, well called, he
thought. He could discern nothing
but phantom-like grey silhouettes that
= u = a. .