“I have it. You left me tied and gagged in Damascus, while you made good your escape. Only for the uproar in the hotel you would not have escaped. I beat against that closet door, but no one heard me for a very long time. I was in there hours. It seemed days. I suffered. My jaws ached, I was suffocated, I nearly perished. When they did find me and pull me out the exhaustion so overcame me that I could not talk. I tried to tell them how you had escaped, but my senses fled. Not until the following morning could I tell. Then it was too late.” “Which was our good luck,” said Dick quietly. “I had heard enough while in that closet to know something of the course you might pursue. I resolved to follow you. I found a Bedouin chief, Ali Beha, who knew the country about for hundreds of miles. I paid him well to aid me in finding you. He is chief over many men, and all the country was scoured in search of you. Finally we learned that you were with a camel train bound to the south. Then we located the train. Ali Beha went for you, while I waited here until he should bring you to me. I knew you expected to hear from the friends from whom you had become separated, so I told him to say a friend had sent for you, but to mention no names. You were fooled with ease the greatest, and now I have you—I have you!” Again Bunol laughed. “You are surely the most persistent rascal in the world,” said Dick. “Perhaps so. Many times you have thought me crushed, but each time I rose again.” “You are sure to come to some bad end in time.” “But you will not live to know about that.” “I presume you mean to murder us?” “Oh, not with my own hands! I would not take so much trouble. But I shall see you suffer—I shall hear you whimper and beg!” “You think you will.” “I know. I have bought these dirty Arabs, and they are ready to do my bidding. I shall take great pleasure in having you stripped and whipped until your back is cut into ribbons. This before I bid you a last farewell and return to look for Nadia Budthorne, who shall become mine.” “So that is the revenge you have planned. I thought——” “You thought—what? That I meant to have you carried back to Damascus?” “I fancied you might.” “Ha, ha! You do not know me. I shall take no chances that my revenge may miscarry. Were you taken back to Damascus, you would appeal to the American consul, and he might save you, for, though you were present when Hafsa Pasha was slain, I know you well enough to know you took no part in that. You haven’t the blood in you to kill a man outright!” The Spaniard uttered these final words with a sneer. “Do you think so?” said Dick, and Bunol failed to note the deadly gleam in the dark eyes of the trapped boy. “I know it,” nodded Miguel. “So I shall give you no chance to escape. You shall meet a fate worse than death. After I have seen you cut up with whips, I shall leave you to that fate. Do you not suspect what it is?” “No.”