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The tread of the camels sounded ahead of us from up the trail, and soon we were reassured by a loud voice speaking in hearty American fashion. Shortly after there moved into our line of vision Uncle Naboth and Ned Britton, riding side by side, while after them came Bryonia and the sailors from the Seagull.
With a shout of joy, we leaped from our concealment, and my uncle fairly tumbled off his tall camel in his eagerness to embrace me. It was indeed a joyful reunion, and for a while no questions were asked on either side, the satisfaction of knowing we were all safe and reunited being enough for us.
But soon the silent form of Abdul Hashim stretched upon the ground attracted attention, and Uncle Naboth leaned over it and asked in a hushed voice:
“Who killed him, Sam?”
“Joe, uncle; and by killing him saved all our lives.” As quickly and in as few words as possible, I related the tragic scene just enacted.
But the relation of Abdul Hashim’s enmity reminded me to ask a question, in turn.
“Where is the Professor, uncle?”
“And where’s the treasure?” demanded Archie, almost in the same breath.
Uncle Naboth frowned and looked glum, and Ned swore a deep oath in sailor fashion.
“The Perfessor, Sam, is a infernal scoundrel!” my uncle answered.
I glanced at the dead Arab. Was his story indeed true, I wondered, and had Van Dorn wronged Abdul Hashim even as the sheik had declared? If so, much might be forgiven the Arab.
“Let us admit the Professor is a scoundrel,” I remarked, “for such a statement does not surprise me. But that does not account for his absence.”
“Yes; it does,” retorted Uncle Naboth; “an’ it ’counts for our runnin’ away and leavin’ you boys in the lurch. Almost it accounts for your all bein’ killed—which you would ’a’ been, lads, if it hadn’t been fer Joe.” Here he glanced affectionately at our hero, who grew red and embarrassed.
“True enough, uncle,” I said. “Tell us about it, please.”
“It were this way, Sam,” he began, seating himself upon a stone and mopping his brow with his red silk handkerchief, for it was hot up here among the rocks and Mr. Perkins was round and chubby. “You boys hadn’t more’n started for Luxor yesterday mornin’ before that blasted Gege-Merak come a-ridin’ up with his band an’ all the scoundrelly niggers in the village. They halted a little way off, for we showed fight an’ they was summat afraid of us. But that little dried-up one-eyed chief was game to come on alone, an’ as soon as he was in speakin’ distance he begun jabberin’ away in Arabia to the Perfessor. Van Dorn answered back, for he can talk Arabia well enough himself, an’ so they jabbered together for a time. I asked ’em to speak so’s we could understand, for ol’ Gege can talk English if he wants to, as you know; but the Perfessor told me not to interfere.
“‘You leave me to deal with him,’ says he, ‘an’ I’ll negotiate this business all right. P’raps,’ says he, ‘the Bega will keep our secret, after all, an’ not want a share o’ the plunder, either. He ain’t lookin’ for trouble,’ says the Perfessor.
“So I said nothin’ more, an’ they talked an’ jabbered a long while. Then on a suddint Van Dorn turns an’ says: ‘The chief thinks some o’ you understan’ Arabia, the langwidge as we’re speakin’, an’ he suspicions we’re a-trappin’ him.’
“‘We’re all honest English,’ says I, ’an’ I’m glad to say we don’t know a word of Arabia. What does he want, anyhow?’
“The Perfessor looked hard at Gege, but ol’ one-eye wouldn’t talk English. ‘Come,’ says the Perfessor, ‘state your terms.’ But still Gege was silent as a clam.
“‘I guess,’ says the Perfessor, ‘you all better draw aside an’ leave me to dicker with the chief. Draw back a little,’ says he, motionin’ to us.
“Well, you know, Sam, we’d come to rely a good deal on Van Dorn. He’d led us straight to the treasure, as he’d said he would, an’ he’d sealed it all up accordin’ to agreement until we could get it aboard ship an’ divide it proper. An’ we knew we’d have a hard time gettin’ back to Koser if we had to fight Gege an’ his niggers all the way. So we thought if Van Dorn could settle the trouble in his own fashion we’d give him every chance to do so. Leastwise, that’s what I thought, for I told the boys to ride off a little way, out o’ earshot. We did that, leavin’ the Perfessor an’ the chief together, and leavin’—that’s where we blundered, my lad—leavin’ the two camels with the treasure with ’em. But we hadn’t a thought of treachery until ol’ Gege raised his arm an’ the whole troop o’ niggers come rushin’ forward. They surrounded the Perfessor an’ the camels, fired a few shots at us, an’ then turned an’ rode as fast as they could for the village.
“Ned an’ I didn’t know what to do for a minute. The Perfessor was escapin’ as lively as the rest, leadin’ one treasure camel, while ol’ Gege led the other; so we knew well enough he’d put up the job on us an’ made a dicker with Gege to rob us of our share.
“‘The boys won’t be back till afternoon, so let’s foller the thieves an’ fight it out,’ says Ned. That struck me as sensible, so after ’em we went, not meanin’ at the time to desert you, but tryin’ to save the treasure we had earned an’ to balk the plans of that dum-sizzled Perfessor.”
“You did quite right, uncle,” said I. “I don’t blame you a bit. Well?”
“Well, lad, they didn’t stop at the village, as we expected, but kep’ right on. Also we kep’ right on. Whenever we got too close they’d turn an’ shoot at us, but they never hit anything, an’ we didn’t dare shoot much ourselves for fear o’ killin’ the girl, who was ridin’ her camel jest beside the chief an’ the Perfessor.”
“Iva?”
“Yes. She’s a pretty girl, Sam, and ain’t to blame in this matter, as I can see; so we hated to harm her. Another thing, we ain’t so used to shootin’ folks for a bit o’ money as these Arabs is. So all day we chased ol’ Gege through the hills, an’ towards dark we were a long way ahead o’ here, past the next stretch o’ desert beyond, and well into the black mountains. Then, to our surprise, instead o’ keepin’ in the trail, the chief and his party turned aside into a narrer path an’ rode plumb into a blind ravine, where they made camp.
“I couldn’t understan’ the whys an’ wherefores of this, at first, but Ned an’ I figgered out that the foxey ol’ chief, or the Perfessor, or both, didn’t care to get any nearer to Koser with that treasure while we were hot on their track. They mean to stop in that canyon until they can get rid o’ us, some way or ’nuther; for to let us chase ’em into the settlement, or to get there first an’ warn the police, would mean that they’d have to give up the boodle, sure thing, an’ p’raps render an account for killin’ poor Cunningham.
“We watched the mouth of that ravine all night, but couldn’t get any nearer the thieves ’cause one man, well armed, can stand in that narrer place between the rocks an’ keep off an army. This mornin’ we decided we’d go back an’ find you boys, for you’ve been on my mind a good deal an’ I’ve worried about you. So I’m mighty glad to find you so soon, safe an’ well.”
This story was as perplexing as it was interesting. I tried to understand the policy of the Professor’s strange desertion.
“Why, uncle, do you think Van Dorn preferred to deal with the Bega chief rather than remain faithful to us?”
“There’s several things to explain it, Sam. Ol’ Gege knew the secret, first an’ foremost, an’ the Perfessor reckoned we could never get to Koser alive an’ with the treasure as long as the chief was agin us an’ hankerin’ to get his fists on them jewels an’ things. Van Dorn had agreed to give us half of all the treasure, exceptin’ the rolls of writin’, an’ if he stuck to his bargain with us ol’ Gege might capture the outfit, bein’ stronger than we are an’ knowin’ the country better. On the contrary, if Van Dorn deserted an’ went over to the chief, he could make the same terms with him an’ stand a better chance of gettin’ out safe. Mebbe he’s got a plan to return for the rest of the treasure, an’ mebbe his idea is to take it to Luxor, so’s to keep out of our way. Anyhow, the Perfessor’s a low-down villain, Sam, an’ he’s tryin’ to feather his own nest at our expense. I wouldn’t be a bit surprised if he’s plottin’ right now how to kill us all, so’s to make himself safe. You see, he an’ Gege has that paper, signed by us, sayin’ we don’t hold anyone responsible if we’re killed in this adventure. That was a great mistake, Sam; we hadn’t ought to ’a’ signed it, at all.”
“But Van Dorn wouldn’t dare go to the ship and face my father,” said I.
“Of course not. His plan would be to find some other vessel to carry his plunder away from Egypt. He’s cunning as a weasel, that Perfessor, an’ vile as a skunk.”
I thought it a good time to relate to our friends the story of Van Dorn’s treachery to Lovelace Pasha, as told us by the Arab sheik; and they all agreed that Abdul Hashim’s version was likely to be true, and that the “red-beard” had been a scoundrel from the beginning of his connection with the affair, plotting to get the treasure away from both the explorer and the sheik, in case it was discovered. We were sorry Abdul Hashim had been killed, but his cold-blooded attempt to murder us had led to his own undoing, and he was now out of the running for good and all. The Arab might have possessed some manly instincts, and perhaps was a better man than Van Dorn, if the two could be compared; but his hatred of the white infidels made him as dangerous as the other, and we felt that one desperate enemy, at least, had been removed from our path.
“I wish he could have lived long enough to meet the Professor once more,” said I, with a sigh; “but fate has robbed the poor devil of even his revenge.”
We buried him among the rocks, to keep the jackals from preying upon his body, and mounted our camels to ride toward the place where Gege-Merak was encamped.
There was little need of haste now. The chief did not wish to escape us, it seemed, any more than we wished him to escape. The treasure was a magnet that drew both parties toward it irresistibly, and in order to possess it we must isolate ourselves in these mountains until we had fought the matter out and one side or the other became the victor.
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