rose to his feet and began packing the trap, still
whispering, his eyes on the ground. Never once did he look in the
direction of the houri peering through the sliding panel.

The clatter of a horse's hoofs now resounded through the still air. A
mounted officer was approaching. Joe looked up, turned a light
pea-green, backed his body into the gate with the movement of an eel,
put his cheek close to the sliding panel, and whispered some words in
Turkish. The girl leaned a little forward, glanced at the officer as if
in confirmation of Joseph's warning, and smothering a low cry, sprang
back from the opening. The next instant my eye caught the thumb and
forefinger of a black hand noiselessly closing the panel. Joe
straightened up, pulled himself into the position of a sentinel on
guard, saluted the officer, who passed without looking to the right or
left, drew a handkerchief from his pocket, and began mopping his head.

"What the devil is it all about, Joe? Why, you look as if you had had
the wind knocked out of you."

"Oh, awful close, awful close! I tell you--but not here. Come, we go
'way--we go now--not stay here any more. If that officer see the lady
with us the Pasha send me to black mosque for five year and you find
yourself board ship on way to Tripoli. Here come Yusuf--damn him! You
tell him you no like view of mosque from here--say you find another
place to-morrow--you do this quick. Hornstog never lie."

On my way across the Galata Bridge to my quarters in Pera that same
afternoon Joe followed until Yusuf had made his kotow and we had made
ours, the three ending in a triple flight of fingers--waited until the
guard was well on his way back to the Pasha's office--it was but a
short way from the Stamboul end of the Galata--and drawing me into one
of the small cafes overlooking the waters of the Golden Horn, seated me
at the far end near a window where we could talk without being
overheard. Here Joe ordered coffee and laid a package of cigarettes on
the table.

"My! but that was like the razor at the throat--not for all the hairs
on my head would I had her look out the small hole in the door when
Serim come along. Somebody must be take care of you, you Joe Hornstog,
that you don't make damn big fool of yourselluf. Ha! but it make me
creep like a spider crawl."

I had pulled up a chair by this time and was facing him.

"Now what is it? Who is the girl? Who was the chap on horseback?"

"That man on the horse