“You sure would have croaked for fair,” put in Buckhart. “What you ask of me, if it is in my power, I will give,” declared the sheik. “That is the word of Ras al Had, and, though no pledge to an infidel is binding, may the wrath of Allah fall on me if I break this one. Speak.” “If you think I did it for pay of any sort, you are mistaken,” said the young American, with a touch of resentment. “You can’t reward me for a thing like that.” “Then if ever you are in need or in danger, and I can be of service, the sword and the life of Ras al Had shall be at your command. I swear this by the beard of the Prophet!” “All aboard!” shouted a voice. “Train’s going to start.” There was a general rush for the cars. CHAPTER IX—THE STRUGGLE AT THE STATION “Well, that certain was an adventure, all right,” laughed Brad, when they were again seated in their compartment and the train was moving. “I don’t know what I’ll do with you boys!” exclaimed Professor Gunn, with an air of exasperation. “You keep me on pins and needles all the time. I surely thought those Arabs would slice you up when they saw you go after the old sheik. They thought you were defiling the dead.” “But the old boy was grateful when he learned that we had pumped the breath back into him,” said Dick. “He pretended to be,” nodded the professor; “but that is no sign.” “Why not?” “He’s a Mohammedan, and they think it no harm to do anything to an infidel. They may deceive him, lie to him, steal from him, even kill him, without committing a sin. Richard, do not take any stock in the words of that old rascal.” “I don’t have to,” said young Merriwell; “for it is not likely I’ll ever see him again. All the same, I seemed to feel that he was sincere when he expressed his gratitude.” “It’s evident he’s a gent of some authority in his tribe,” put in Brad. “All the rest of his particular bunch seemed to stand in awe of him a plenty.” Their interest in the strange country, together with their recent adventure, gave them food enough for conversation, and the journey was not nearly as long as they had expected it would seem. At last, as the train approached Damascus, they found themselves in a narrow valley that was almost a gorge. Through this valley a clear stream rushed and roared over an exceedingly rocky bed. This stream drove a number of mills, the entrances to which were always surrounded by donkeys and camels, these animals having brought little loads of grain to the mills to be ground. On the outskirts of the city they passed a group of Turkish villas, which looked very picturesque and attractive. These, they were told, were occupied by exiled officers of the Turkish government, who had committed offenses of some sort or had excited the distrust of the sultan. Instead of ordering them beheaded, their imperial master had sent them to Damascus, where they could be closely guarded. Finally the train drew into the station at Damascus.