ted
tone.

Everyone looked at everyone else to produce the paper, but no one
produced it.

"I regret to confess it," said the Third Vice-President, placidly, "but
I have a distinct recollection of having left it on the table at Low
Dudgeon. Never mind, it is perfectly safe."

"Well!" said Aunt Amanda. "Isn't that a perfect shame! Whatever are we
going to do? And where's the map? Freddie, have you got the map?"

Freddie looked in all his pockets. "No'm," said he. "It isn't here."

"I recall distinctly," said the Third Vice-President, without any sign
of worry, "that the map was left on the table at Low Dudgeon with the
other paper."

"Merciful fathers!" exclaimed Aunt Amanda. "And you've left the map
behind too! I never yet see a man that had a head on him worth a--Now
listen to me; is there anyone that remembers the words the paper said we
had to say to the----"

"Ah! madam," said the Third Vice-President. "There I can be of
assistance, I fancy. The words are derived from the Persian, and I am
accordingly familiar with them. 'Shagli Jamshid Shahriman.' Am I right,
gentlemen?"

The Daft Committee nodded their heads in assent.

"Then I see no reason," said the Third Vice-President, "why we should
not proceed."

"Come on then," said Toby. "I'll get down and pace off the six hundred
steps, and see where we come to."

The party moved slowly through the crowd, along the booths, while Toby
walked beside them, carefully counting his steps.

"Five hundred and eighty," said he. "Five hundred and ninety.
Ninety-five. Six hundred"; and stopped. The procession stopped also, and
all of the riders got down from their mules. Many of the passers-by
gazed curiously at them, and some paused for a moment before going on;
but no one seemed to take more than a passing interest. One of the
Committee led the mules to the open side of the street, where they would
be out of the way, and stood guard over them. The others joined Toby in
front of the booth at which he was now standing.

It was not the kind of booth they were seeking at all. There were no
rugs nor carpets of any kind; only clocks and watches, a great number of
them, and a few sundials and hour-glasses. Behind the counter stood a
lad of about twenty, very dark of skin, with snapping black eyes and
shining white teeth which showed as he now bowed and smiled; a white
turban on his head, and a loose white robe hanging from his shoulders.
He was slim and sleek, and his