ree?"

"Shall I rob my mother's son?" Grim asked her. "God forbid!"

Then he turned to me, wondering.

"Can you beat it?" he said.

CHAPTER VII

"You Got Cold Feet?"

We did not have to wait long for Ali Baba, Mujrim, and the
camels, for they had not been fools enough to dawdle, with a
hundred and fifty balked freebooters within rifle-shot, whose
resilient pride was likely to breed anger. You can't lead camels
any more than horses as fast as you can ride them; unless
stampeded they tow loggily; but the fact that two or three dozen
mounted Arabs had elected to follow along behind and watch
from a safe distance what might happen to the train had lent
Ali Baba wings.

And the same fact gave us wings too. We were up and away at once,
headed eastward toward Petra, I perched on top of a baggage beast
until Ali Baba could cut across at an angle and overtake us.

So those who watched no doubt confirmed the story of Ali Higg's
presence on the scene. Had they not from the horizon seen the
train stopped? Did they not with their own eyes see us scoot for
Petra? And who else than the redoubtable Ali Higg would be likely
to own such a string of splendid camels--he who could take what
he coveted, and never coveted anything except the best?

The evidence of identity was strong enough for a judge and jury.
Men have been hanged in America on less.

But that didn't help make the rest of our course any clearer than
a fog off Sandy Hook. The real Ali Higg was in Petra like a
dragon in a cave, and from all accounts of him he was not the
sort of gentleman likely to lavish sweet endearments on a rival
who had stolen not only his thunder, but his name as well.

"When in doubt go forward" is good law; but which is forward and
which backward when you stand in the middle of a circle of doubt
is a point that invites argument; and as soon as I could get my
own camel I rode up beside Grim to find out whether our leader
had a real plan or was only guessing.

But he seemed in no doubt at all, only satisfied, with the air of
a scientist who has at last found the key to a natural puzzle. I
found him chuckling.

"That explains a hundred things," he said.

"What does?"

"Why, my likeness to Ali Higg. It's evidently so. I've often been
kept awake wondering why strangers--Bedouins mostly--would show
me such deference until they found out who I really am, and after
that would have to be handled without gloves. It bothered