For the time attention was turned from the captive at the post. Dick was hopeless, and he paid little heed to the strange horsemen. He was watching Bunol. The Spaniard was impatient over the delay. “More of the dirty Arabs,” he muttered. The leader of the strangers seemed to be a man of some distinction, for Ali Beha hastened to bow low before him, his manner most humble. This leader was an old man, yet he dismounted from his horse with some sprightliness and looked around. His eyes fell on the white youth, who was tied to the post, his bare body shining in the sun. “What is this, Ali Beha?” he demanded. “Only a dog of a foreigner whom we are about to flog.” The stranger stepped quickly forward and obtained a look at Dick’s face. Instantly his manner underwent a change. He straightened to his full height, lifted his hand, and cried: “Release him at once! He is my friend!” “Ras al Had!” shouted Dick, in a burst of joy. “Oh, sheik, you came just in time!” “I reached the camel train shortly after these men took you away,” said the old Arab. “They told me you had been carried off by Ali Beha, and I made haste to look for him here, knowing this to be one of his favorite camping places. But why were they about to flog you?” “None of your business, you meddling old fool!” snarled Bunol, giving Ras al Had a thrust. Instantly several of the sheik’s followers sprang on the Spaniard and bore him to the ground. “Bind him,” commanded Ras al Had. They obeyed, in spite of Bunol’s struggles and curses. Dick was set free at the sheik’s command, as also were Brad and the old professor. Ras al Had listened to Merriwell’s story, and a strange expression came to his wrinkled face as the boy told of his enemy’s plan to have him flogged and then carried into slavery in Arabia. Turning toward the Spaniard, the sheik grimly said: “Strip him as this boy was stripped, bind him to the post and flog him, even as he ordered you to flog this boy, who is the bosom friend of Ras al Had.” Crying and begging like a frightened child, Miguel Bunol was stripped and tied to the post. Then the men with the rawhide whips began their work. The whips whistled through the air and fell on the Spaniard’s bare back, bringing the blood with the first blow. A shriek of pain came from Bunol’s lips. Dick could not endure much of this. After a little he implored the sheik to stop it. “But this is merely a taste,” said Ras al Had grimly. “Do you think he would have stopped so soon with you at the post?” “It makes no difference,” returned Merriwell. “I can’t see any human being beaten up that way.” “If I stop them now, you must promise me not to interfere further in his behalf.” “You will punish him in some other manner?” “But not with the whip.” “All right; I promise.” Immediately Ras al Had checked the men who were wielding the whips. He spoke a few words to Ali Beha, who nodded.