ore," exclaimed the Turk.

Mole withdrew the nail from his foot, and the dagger from his leg, and
seizing the sword, he thrust it with ferocious energy into the other
mutilated leg.

He pressed his hand to the wound, and the blood flowed out in a small
torrent, while the spectators groaned.

Mole looked round him proudly--defiantly.

Had he just conquered on the field of Waterloo, he could not have shown
a greater apparent belief in himself.

He smiled sardonically as he bound up the wounded legs with his scarf.

Mr. Mole here nearly spoilt his exhibition of his marvellous power of
endurance, for pricking his finger accidentally with a pin, he sang out
lustily, much to the astonishment of the Turks.

But he was lucky to recover himself in time before the Turks could
divine what had occurred.

"You must invent something more violent than any punishment I have yet
seen here, if you would subdue the soul of Isaac Mole."

And he strode along with the air of the heavy man in a transpontine
melodrama.

The marvellous exhibition of endurance aroused the phlegmatic Turk to
real enthusiasm.

"Mole Pasha," he exclaimed, "you are a great hero. I shall seek an
audience of his highness the Sultan, and beg of him for you some mark
of distinction, perhaps even to confer upon you the distinguished order
of the glass button."

"The glass bottle would be more in your excellency's way, Mole Pasha,"
suggested Tinker.

And henceforth when Mole walked abroad, the population was aroused.

"Behold the bravest Frank that ever lived," they said. "He is a great
hero."

CHAPTER LXXX.

THE SNAKE IN THE GRASS--THE POISONED DAGGER.

As young Jack was sauntering through the streets of the town one day,
he fancied that he was being followed by a man who was dressed in a
semi-Oriental garb, but whose head was shaded by a broad-brimmed hat.

Jack was not given to fear without a cause, yet he certainly did feel
uncomfortable now.

At first he thought of turning round and facing the man sharply.

But this, he reflected, might lead to a rupture.

A rupture was to be most carefully avoided.

He was determined, however, to assure himself that he was followed.

With this view, he made a circuitous tour of the city.

Still the man was there like his very shadow.

"This is unendurable," muttered Jack.

So he drew up short.

Grasping a pistol, which he carried in his pocket, with a nervous grip,
he waited for the man to