eft out here, if we simply stood aside
and looked on. Go and change your clothes, Suliman. It's time I
broke a leg."

Grim disappeared upstairs himself, and returned about ten minutes
later in the uniform of a Shereefian officer--that is to say, of
Emir Feisul's Syrian army. Nothing could be smarter, not
anything better calculated to disguise a man. Disguise, as any
actor or detective can tell you, is not so much a matter of make-
up as suggestion. It is little mannerisms--unstudied habits that
identify. The suggestion that you are some one else is the thing
to strive for, not the concealment of who you really are.

Grim's skin had been sun-tanned in the Arab campaign under
Lawrence against the Turks. The Shereefian helmet is a
compromise between the East and West, having a strip of cloth
hanging down behind it as far as the shoulders and covering the
ears on either side, to take the place of the Arab head-dress.
The khaki uniform had just enough of Oriental touch about it
to distinguish it from that of a British officer. No man
inexperienced in disguise would dream of choosing it; for the
simple reason that it would not seem to him disguise enough. Yet
Grim now looked so exactly like somebody else that it was hard to
believe he was the same man who had been in the room ten minutes
before. His mimicry of the Syrian military walk--blended of
pride and desire not to seem proud--was perfect.

"I'm now staff-captain Ali Mirza of Feisul's army," he announced.
"Ali Mirza a man notorious for his anti-British rancor, but
supposed to be down here just now on a diplomatic mission. I've
been seen about the streets like this for the last two days. But
say: that doctor is a long time on the way."

He went to the telephone, but did not call the hospital; that
would have been too direct and possibly too secret.

"Give me Headquarters--yes--who's that?--never mind who's
speaking--say: I can't get the military hospital--something wrong
with the wire--will you call Major Templeton and say that Major
Grim has had an accident--yes, Grim--compound fracture of the
thigh--very serious--ask him to go at once to Major Grim's
quarters--thanks--that's all." He returned to the fireplace and
stood watching me meditatively for several minutes.

"If you deceive Templeton, you'll do," he said at last. "Wait
a minute."

He went to the desk and scribbled something in Arabic on a sheet
of paper, sealed that in a blank envelope