out a wad of wool tightly stuffed in the neck. A metallic chinking
followed the removal of the wadding and set his heart thumping
rapidly. He looked up and down the street. No one in sight. He tilted
the bottle up to the light of a street lamp and saw a yellow gleam. He
shook it and into his hands flowed a stream of gold sequins! He could
not sufficiently admire the ruse of Prince Houssein. Money on the
first messenger there had been none.

In a center more given to numismatics, or had he been willing to wait
and sell the coins gradually, Mr. Middleton might have secured more
than he did for the gold pieces, all coined at Bagdad in the early
caliphates and very valuable. But he disposed of them in a lump to a
French gentleman on La Salle Street for fourteen hundred and
twenty-five dollars.

Calling on the young lady of Englewood within the next few days, he
made no reference to these events, though she asked him several times
during the evening what he had been doing lately. He did, however,
hint at having profited by a certain fortunate "deal," as he called
it, but not a word did he say concerning the mournful girl or anything
remotely connected with her.

Hesitating to hurt the emir's feelings by exposing the obtuseness of
his ancestor Noureddin and the foolish superstition of his descendants
ever since, Mr. Middleton said nothing of these transactions when once
more he sat in the presence of the urbane and accomplished prince of
the tribe of Al-Yam. Having handed him a bowl of delicately flavored
sherbet, the emir began the narration of The Pleasant Adventures of
Dr. McDill.

_The Pleasant Adventures of Dr. McDill._

It was twelve o'clock on a blustery winter night and Dr. James McDill
was where a married man of forty ought to be at such an hour in that
season, sleeping soundly by the side of his beloved wife. But his wife
was not sleeping. At the stroke of the hour, she had suddenly awoke
from refreshing slumber and become aware of sounds as of persons
moving softly about the room, and after a little, seeing against the
windows faintly illuminated by a distant street light, two dark
figures, she perceived her ears had not deceived her. Shaking her
husband unavailingly for a considerable time, in her terror she
finally cast discretion to the winds and shouted:

"Burglars, Jim, burglars!"

Hardly had these words ceased, when the electric lights were turned on
and Dr. McDill sat up in bed to find him