The Neshoba Democrat., 1913-01-09
CHAPTER XIII.
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Not 4, Cheerful, Outlook,

1'0Soi,S9, Ills DIaln In Iumult, nerce
tigerish courage giving fictitious
strength to his body. staggered toward
her. 1t was mad dream, a mirage
et'shis, own"disordered thoughts For
tune there? 1t was not believabIe.
What place, had she In this tangled
web? He ran his fingers into his hair,
gripped, and pulled If it was a dream
the pain did not waken him; Fortune
sat there still Through. what ter
rors might she not have passed the
preceding night? Alone in the desert,
without any Of those conveniences'
(which are to women as necessary as
1.-THE air they breathel He tried to run,
but his feet sank too deeply In the
pale sand; he: could only plod He
must touch her or hear her voice;
otherwise he stood upon the brink of
madness There was no dbubt in his
mind now; he.loved her, loved hersas
I deePlysaad. passionately: as any sto,
RED skpgbt, loyed his lady; loyeds her.
withbnf thought Of reward. upselGsh
ly, with great and tender pity, for UNI
consciously he saw that she, like he,
was all alone, not only here in the
desert, but along the high ways where
men set up their dwellings.
Mahomed, having an eye upon all
things, though apparently seeing only
| that which was under his immediate
concern, saw the young mans inten-
| tion. and more, read the secret in his
| face. He was infinitely amused.
There were two Of them, so 1t seemed.
Quietly he slipped in between George
and the girl, and his movement freed
Georges mind of its bew1lderment.
unhesitatingly, he flung himself upon
the Arab, striving to reach the lean,
brown throat. Mahomed, strong and
unwearied. having no hand IN the ac-
tual warfare, thrust George back so
vigorously that the young man lost
his balance and fell prone upon the
sand. He was so weak that the fall
stunned him. Mahomed stepped for
ward, doubtless with the generous I'M
pulse to prove that in the matter of
kicks he desired to show no partial
1ty, when hand caught at his bur-
mouse. He paused and looked down.
1t was the girl.
Don't! A brave man would not do
that"
Mahomed, moved by some feeling
that eluded immediate analysis,
turned about 1t was time to be off,
If he wished to reach Serapeum the
| following night. Pursuit he knew to
| be out of the question, since who
was there to know that there was any
thing to pursue? But many miles in
| tervened between here and his desti-
| nation. He dared not enter Serapeum
in the daytime. Lying upon TIE canal
| bank as 1t did, the possibility OF en-
countering a stray white man con-
fronted him. Every camel-way fre-
| quented by Europeans must of ne
cessity be avoided, every town of any
size skirted, and all the while he must
keep parallel with known paths or be-
come lost himself Not to become
lost himself, that was his real con-
Germ. The caravan was provisioned
for months, and he knew Asia Minor
as we'll as the lines upon his palms.
There were sand-storms, too; but
against these blighting visitations he
would match his vigilant eye and the
instinct Of the camels. The one way
In which these peculiar storms might
distress him lay in the total oblitera-
tion Of the way-signs, certain rocks,
certain hills, without the guidance of
which, like good ship bereft of it's
compass. he might fall away from his
course, notwithstanding that he would
always travel toward the sun
And there was also the vital ques-
tion Of water; he must measure the
time between each we'll, each oasis.
So, then, aside from these dangers
with which he felt able to cope, there
was one unforeseen: the chance meet
Ing with wandering caravan headed
by white men in search of rugs and
carpets. These fools were eternally
hunting about the wastes Of the
world; they were never satisfied un-
less they We're prowling into countries
where they had no business to be. were
always breaking the laws of the ca
liphs and the Koran.
The girl was beautiful in her pale,
foreign way; beautiful as the star of
the morning, as the first rose of the
Persian spring; and he sighed for
the old days that were no more. She
would have brought a sultan's ransom
IN the markets. But the accursed
Feringhi We're everywhere, and these
If u.hi
more to them than their hearts blood;
why, he had never ceased to wonder.
But upon this knowledge he had
mapped out his plan of torture in re-
gard to Ryanne. The idea of selling
Fortune had dimly formed in his
mind, while his blood had burned in
anger; but today's soberness showed