passed through his mind he entered the tent where
Mohammed Beyd sat cross-legged upon a rug, smoking. The Arab looked up
as the European came into his presence.

"Greetings, O Brother!" he said.

"Greetings!" replied Werper.

For a while neither spoke further. The Arab was the first to break the
silence.

"And my master, Achmet Zek, was well when last you saw him?" he asked.

"Never was he safer from the sins and dangers of mortality," replied
the Belgian.

"It is well," said Mohammed Beyd, blowing a little puff of blue smoke
straight out before him.

Again there was silence for several minutes.

"And if he were dead?" asked the Belgian, determined to lead up to the
truth, and attempt to bribe Mohammed Beyd into his service.

The Arab's eyes narrowed and he leaned forward, his gaze boring
straight into the eyes of the Belgian.

"I have been thinking much, Werper, since you returned so unexpectedly
to the camp of the man whom you had deceived, and who sought you with
death in his heart. I have been with Achmet Zek for many years--his
own mother never knew him so well as I. He never forgives--much less
would he again trust a man who had once betrayed him; that I know.

"I have thought much, as I said, and the result of my thinking has
assured me that Achmet Zek is dead--for otherwise you would never have
dared return to his camp, unless you be either a braver man or a bigger
fool than I have imagined. And, if this evidence of my judgment is not
sufficient, I have but just now received from your own lips even more
confirmatory witness--for did you not say that Achmet Zek was never
more safe from the sins and dangers of mortality?

"Achmet Zek is dead--you need not deny it. I was not his mother, or
his mistress, so do not fear that my wailings shall disturb you. Tell
me why you have come back here. Tell me what you want, and, Werper, if
you still possess the jewels of which Achmet Zek told me, there is no
reason why you and I should not ride north together and divide the
ransom of the white woman and the contents of the pouch you wear about
your person. Eh?"

The evil eyes narrowed, a vicious, thin-lipped smile tortured the
villainous face, as Mohammed Beyd grinned knowingly into the face of
the Belgian.

Werper was both relieved and disturbed by the Arab's attitude. The
complacency with which he accepted the death of his chief lifted a
considerable burden of apprehension from the shoulders of Achm