The evening world. [volume] (New York, N.Y.) 1887-1931, 1914-04-27

now was yelling.
Back. dog" This time 1t was tho
dervish himself who was addressed by
one of her attendants.
THE dog apologies to you, lady,
for his boldness," he said In quick,
hooking tones. and released her.
mo, no. She turned to the at
tcndant, who had raised staff TO
strike the dervish.
The latter's eyes expressed now n
surdonic Amusement as they rested on
the servant; there was also in their
depths n dangerous glitter. The man
stood uncertainty.
He saved me from a bad fall" she
added hastily. whereupon the pole
was lowered and the lady vanished
into the litter. A curtain fell and the
camels with their delicate patrician
burden swayed impcriously down the
Street that Is called Straight. The
dervish gaZed after them, then
wheeled rather abruptly to the pro-
prictor OF the pastry shop.
"Who is she?" he demanded.
The proprietor heard him amazed.
This ragged fellow presumed greatly
because he had performed a trfiing
service.
And he. n holy man, in a city where
Il ~ not considered good etiquette even
to look at one of the fair sex on the
street. This bold dcrvish had dared
10 do that before the little incident of
the litter and now the impudent rascal
inquired brazenly about her.
"Who is she? out upon you!" ex-
claimed the pastry man Indignantly.
"Away from my shop, rank pretender
of holiness!"
The dervish moved on mechanically.
h,,t hnf hn Of rni
squared his shoulders. He became
conscious that some one near at hand
was following and watching him. He
half turned and his eyes met, for the
fraction Of n minute. the deep, clear
devilishly clear-ones of thick set.
Misunderstanding Mohamnedan: then
with a quick contemptuous swing OF
his cloak OF rags the dervish plunged
into the crowd. The other, about to
follow more quickly, found himself
touched on the arm and restrained.
"The saddle for my masters horse
Is II finished" said no who stopped
him.
yes; I will be at my shop in a mo-
ment Await me there" He would
have broken impatlenuy away. when
"Why not come now?" said the man.
And Sadi, the saddler. had to ac-
uuiesce, for ne who addressed him was
servant to Amad, the diamond mer-
chant, the richest man IN Damascus.
and. moreover, a distant relative or
Sadi himself.
"My master trusts the saddle In
worthy Of the Star of the Desert"
at is worthy" said the saddlemaker.
his malicious eyes turned in the d.
rection the dervish had gone.
"You seemed in a hurry" remarked
the servant curiously.
Some one ] wished to speak with,
/ saw him In the crowd" muttered
the other.
"A friend, eh"'
"Yes-a friend" with curious
laugh. II made his acquaintance at
Mecca. But perhaps we'll meet again.
Anyhow, II doesn't matter ne had
to add politely. though inward'y an
athematiZing his rich relative ana
most lucrative customer.
Meanwhile the dervish had turned
into Il narrower way and one that
didn't make even SO much as pre-
text of being straight as the one mat
is called so. He turned into the IN
closure OF mosque, hathed in a Sc
Guided pilgrims pool then lay
down. wrapped in his cloak.
Heigho IL one could only sleep
away hunger! Still his bath had re-
freshed him, and since 1t was impos-
s,ble to eat perhaps he might court a
few winks of forgetfulness. But his
appetite Uhe appetite OF youth) fol-
lowed in his dreams. Tho agra
waiting flesh pots mingled with wild,
hostile faces. He saw again the fat
sheep sacrificed and left uneaten In
the holiest city. Prodigal waste of
good chops and juicy saddles OF NUT
ton, oh, for "A nice chop now such
as you get at Sharpe's, on Forty
fourth street, near Broadway--a
chop two or more inches thick,
dashed with French fried and "A
tankard of old musty conveniently
near
"Old musty?" Swat had he to do
with that, he who was supposed
never TO partake of aught alcoholic?
And Sharpe's? What was Sharpe's
to him, a good Mohamnledan. and
very holy man, to boot? BY the sa-
cred eyebrow Of the Prophet. who