At this moment the whistle of the locomotive shrieked a wild alarm and the brakes were applied violently. Something was wrong. The train came to a stop. And just outside the window of the compartment occupied by the old professor and two boys a dead camel lay stretched on the ground, blood flowing from several horrible wounds. The animal’s pack was broken open and the goods scattered in all directions. Not ten feet from the camel lay a gorgeously dressed, black-bearded Arab, likewise apparently dead. “Whoop!” cried Buckhart. “There certain have been some doings here! I opine the camel tried to butt the train off the track, somewhat to the grief of Mr. Camel.” Men now came running toward the spot, all greatly excited. They were principally camel drivers and like men from a caravan. They gathered about the prostrate Arab and made a great demonstration. Their gestures toward the train were very threatening. One of the guards flung open the door of the compartment occupied by our friends. “Is there a doctor here?” he asked anxiously. “A serious accident has happened.” In a moment Dick Merriwell sprang out, followed by Brad. They did not wait to enter into conversation with the guard, but started toward the dead camel and the motionless Arab. Others from the train were doing the same thing, and the boys learned from fragments of conversation that the Arab had been struck by the engine while endeavoring to drive from the track the camel that had strayed onto the railroad and obstinately refused to budge. At that point the train came round a sharp curve, and the engineer was unable to see either camel or man until right upon them. Later the boys learned that the camel was loaded with certain articles of great importance, which had led the Arab to imperil his life in the effort to drive the beast from the track. “He seems to be some sort of high mogul in his tribe,” observed Buckhart, as he and Dick paused and surveyed the injured man. “He is a sheik of great power and influence,” explained a man standing near. “That is why the railroad people are so concerned. If he were an ordinary camel driver or donkey man, they wouldn’t stop a minute to bother over him.” “I wonder if he is really dead?” muttered Dick, stepping forward. In a moment he was kneeling beside the unconscious man. Deftly he began to make an examination, seeking for broken bones. A number of Arabs were about, their heads tied up and their feet and legs bare, as is their custom in all sorts of weather. One of these objected when Dick began the examination, but a husky fellow prevented the chap from attacking the American boy. “I don’t believe he is dead,” declared Dick. “Doesn’t seem to have any broken bones. He’s stunned—just has the breath knocked out of him. Give me a hand, Brad; let’s see if we can’t revive him.” The Texan responded promptly. “What do you want me to do, pard?” he inquired.