“I can speak no names. I am directed to bring thee and thy companions.” Dick turned to Brad, speaking in a low tone: “He must be from Ras al Had. The old sheik sent him for us.” “I reckon you’re right, pard,” nodded the Texan, the cloud having left his face. “At last we have heard from Ras.” Professor Gunn placed a still quivering hand on Dick’s arm. “Be cautious, Richard,” he warned. “I am afraid of these wild men. It is said that they are very treacherous. Better ask him openly if he comes from the sheik.” “He has said that he can call no names. It is evident that Ras al Had has taken precautions. In case he is captured and condemned for slaying Hafsa Pasha, he does not wish to associate us with him in that business, and so his name is not to be mentioned before these Syrians.” “You have figured it out, partner,” put in Buckhart. “I opine we’ve had our little scare for nothing. The sheik has sent for us in his own way, and we’ll be liable to find Nadia and Budthorne by accompanying the Bedouins.” Ali Beha remained passive and apparently indifferent while they were talking this matter over. Dick turned once more to the chief. “How far away are our friends?” he asked. “Beyond the horizon,” was the answer. “You will take us to them?” The Bedouin bowed. “I have come to do so,” he declared. “That settles it,” laughed Buckhart. “I judge we’re ready and willing to go.” The prospect of soon joining Nadia filled the Texan with enthusiasm and relief. “All right,” said Dick. “We’ll soon be ready.” He then turned to the Syrian merchant, whom he thanked for such favors as they had received. The merchant made a deprecatory gesture and declared that it was nothing, which he well might have done, considering the fact that he had been well paid for those favors. It did not take our friends long to make arrangements for accompanying the waiting Bedouins. The people of the train were greatly relieved, and they lost no time in preparing to move onward once more. As Dick, Brad, and the professor followed Ali Beha, they looked back and saw the head of the train already in motion, with the camel drivers and their loaded “ships of the desert” falling into line in regular order. “I certain am plenty glad to abandon camel riding,” grinned Brad. “I’d rather ride a pitching cayuse than a hump-backed camel, for a bucker won’t buck forever, while a camel does keep up that rocking, swaying, back-breaking movement just as long as he travels. I suppose one might get used to it in time, but I’d rather be excused some.” As they drew near the Bedouins they discovered that the men who had seemed so picturesque at a distance were unkempt and dirty, although none the less fierce on close inspection. These wild men regarded our friends with an air of curious contempt. There was nothing of friendliness in their manner.