“Great horn spoon!” muttered the Texan, recognizing Budthorne’s voice and manner of speaking. “I sure was fooled all right. Say, you certain look an Allah worshiper to the life. If you ever get outside of the hotel in that rig, you’ll be all right.” Assouan now appeared. “We should lose no time,” he said. “Abraham is disguising the others. I must lead you to a place of safety and return for them. The mob is again trying to approach the hotel, and the soldiers do not seem strong enough to hold them back much longer.” “It doesn’t seem right for us to go until all are ready,” said the girl. “I think we should not.” Dick appeared now. “You must go at once,” he insisted. “It is better so. Were we all to attempt to pass through the streets together it would add to the danger of being detected. Abraham is disguising Professor Gunn. Assouan can conduct Nadia. She will seem to be a Turkish woman with an escort. Budthorne can follow at a little distance, keeping them in sight. Assouan will return for us the moment he has placed you where you will be safe. By the time he gets back, we’ll be ready to start. Do not hesitate, Nadia—go!” “It is best, sister,” said her brother. She grasped Brad’s hand once more and gave it a pressure, looking into his eyes, which smiled at her reassuringly, although his heart was heavy with dread. “Come quickly, Brad,” she whispered. “I shall be in mortal terror for you until I see you again.” Assouan led the way downstairs, the brother and sister following. From a distance again came an outburst of sullen muttering, like the growling of wild animals held in check. The Moslem mob was growing impatient. The streets in the vicinity of the hotel were choked. At any moment the crowd might break from the control of the soldiers. “It certain puzzles me up a plenty to know how Assouan is going to get them out of this building and away from here,” said Brad, following Dick back into the room where the old Jew was at work. Already Abraham had transformed Professor Gunn into an apparently dirty and ragged old Armenian. He was putting on the finishing touches when the boys entered. “Waugh!” grunted Brad. “Is that Professor Zenas Gunn, of Fardale Academy? Why, I feel a whole lot like kicking that old beggar.” “I know I’m a shameful sight,” moaned Gunn; “but to save my life I have permitted myself to be changed into a scarecrow.” “Ven you get der street indo,” said the old Jew, “it will pe vell vor you to keep your mouth still and haf nothing to say. If you talk you vill betray yourseluf. Now you vos done. I vill attend to der poys.” Dick pushed Brad forward, and Abraham began on him. With marvelous rapidity he turned the boy into a young Greek. The work of the Jew was of the most skillful sort, yet it was performed so rapidly that it actually seemed careless and slipshod. The results attained, however, spoke for themselves.