ng with rage, he sprang at Miguel's throat,
and the tow fell writhing upon the floor.

There could only be one end to such a struggle, of course, as the
Algerian recognized by replacing his knife in his pocket and resuming
his seat. Miguel obtained a firm hold upon Sacah and raised him bodily
above his head, as one has seen a professional weight-lifter raise a
heavy dumb-bell. Thus he carried him, kicking and foaming at the mouth
with passion, to the open door. From the step he threw him into the
middle of the street.

At this moment I observed something glittering upon the floor close to
the chair occupied by the Algerian. Standing up--for I had determined
to depart--I crossed in that direction, stooped and picked up this
object which glittered. As my fingers touched it, so did my heart give
a great leap.

The object was a _golden scorpion!_

Forgetful of my dangerous surroundings I stood looking at the golden
ornament in my hand ... when suddenly and violently it was snatched
from me! The Algerian, his brown face convulsed with rage,
confronted me.

"Where did you find that charm?" he cried. "It belongs to me."

"Very well," I replied--"you have it."

He glared at me with a ferocity which the incident scarcely seemed to
merit and exchanged a significant glance with someone who had
approached and who now stood behind me. Turning, I met a second black
gaze--that of the quadroon who having restored order had returned from
the cafe door and now stood regarding me. "Did you find it on the
floor?" asked Miguel suspiciously.

"I did."

He turned to the Algerian.

"It fell when you kicked the knife from the hand of that pig," he
said. "You should be more careful."

Again they exchanged significant glances, but the Algerian resumed
his seat and Miguel went behind the counter. I left the cafe
conscious of the fact that black looks pursued me.

The night was very dark, and as I came out on to the pavement someone
touched me on the arm. I turned in a flash.

"Walk on, friend," said the voice of Jean Sach. "What was it that you
picked up from the floor?"

"A golden scorpion," I answered quickly.

"Ah!" he whispered--"I thought so! It is enough. They shall pay for
what they have done to me--those two. Hurry, friend, as I do."

Before I could say another word or strive to detain him, he turned
and ran off along a narrow courtway which at this point branched from
the street.

I stood for a moment, nonplussed,