Macon beacon. [volume] (Macon, Miss.) 1859-1995, 1913-08-15

~UOA lne Tacket began al owe again.
george never paused mentally to won.
der what all this rumpus was about:
time enough to make inquiries after
the scrimmage. lntrepidly, az Here
ward the Wake, as Busy d'Ambois,
as Porthos In the cave of Loch-Maria,
George fought. He wasn't a trained
athlete; he hadn't any science: he
was simply ordinarily tough and ac-
tive and clean-lived; and the injustice
or an unprovoked assault added to
physical proves a full measure OF
nervous energy. II was Quasi-Homer-
ic: a modern young gentleman in We
ming dress holding of for several min
utes five sleek, sinewy, u~nhampered
Arabs. But the days Of the gods were
no more; and n quick-witted goddess
cast a veil across the eyes Of the
Arabs. No; George had to shift for
himself. Suddenly there came a gen
eral rush from the center of the room
into one Of the right-angular n
The subsequent snarl Of legs and
arms was not unlike that seen upon
the football field. George was the
man with the ball. And then to
George came merciful darkness. The
conjunction, as In astronomy, OF two
planets In the same degree of the 70
diac-meaning Georges head and the
stucco-wall-gave the Arabs complete
mastery of the field Of battle.
From the opposite side OF the room
came the voice Of the referee;
Courses Of Allah upon these white
dogs! How they fight" And Ma
homed peered down into the corner,
One by one the Arabs got up, each
examining his honorable wounds.
George alone remained unmoved, quiet
and disinterested, under the folds Of
the tattered burnouse.
"Is he dead?" demanded Mahomed.
mo, my father. His head hit the
wall"
Hasten, then. Bind his feet and
hands and cover his eyes and mouth,
W. have but little time"
There was a long way to go, and
Mahomed was too wise and cautious
to congratulate himself at this early
stage. George was thereupon trussed
Wa a Christmas fowl ready for
tfe oven. They wrapped him w In
the burnouse and carried him out to
the closed carriage in waiting. No
one in the street seemed curious. No
one in the English-Bar deemed 1t nee
essary to be. Whatever happened In
this resort had long been written in
the book Of fate. Had a white mar
approached to inquire what was going
on, Mahomed would have gravely
whispered that 1t was a case of
plague they were hurrying away to
prevent interference by the English
authorities.
Once George was snug inside the
carriage, 1t was driven OF at a u
toward the tombs Of the caliphs. As
the roads were not the ~levelest, the
vehicle went most Of the way upon
two wheels. Mahomed sat beside his
victim, watchful and attentive. His
intention was to take him no far
Their than the outskirts Of the city,
force him to send back to the hotel
a duly credited messenger for the
rue, after which he would turn George
adrift. with the reasonable assurance
that the young man would find some
one to guide him back to the hotel.
After a while he observed that George
had recovered and was grimly fighting
the imprisoning ropes.
"You will need your strength" in
terposed Mahomed gently, III take
the cloth from your mouth, will you
promise not to cry out" There was
an affirmative nod, and Mahomed un-
tied the bandage. Listen. NEAR
you no harvI. II you will send to the
hotel for the Holy Y%hiordes, you will
be liberated the moment 1t is put into
my hands"
go to the deuce!" snapped George,
still dizzy. The fighting mood hadn't
e~vaporated. by any means. You
know where 1t is better than l." So
this was Mahomed?
Fool" cried the other, shaking
George roughly.
Easy therel l had the rug, but
It was stolen this afternoon" He was
very weak and tired. "And II had
it, I shouldn't give 1t to you" with
renewed truculenoe; land you may
put that In your water-pipe and smoke
It."
Mahomed, no longer pacific, struck
| George violently upon the mouth. He,
on his part, was unknightly enough to
attempt to sink his teeth In the bru-
tai hand. Queer fancies fit through a
mans head In times like this; for the
Intellectually of the bite reminded
him OF Hallowe'ens and the tubs with
the bobbing apples. One thing was
certain: he would kill this pagan the
very first opportunity, Rather a
startling metamorphosis In the char
acter Of a man whose life had been
passed in the peacefulest environ
ments. And to kill him without the
least conjunction. too. To strike a
man who couldn't help himself!
Hey there!" he yelled. Help for
a white mani" After such treatment
he considered Il anything but dishon.