By this time he was half across the roomy, booth-like tent, where he stopped short as if turned to stone in his surprise. For dimly seen by the light from the hanging lamp, he could see a figure stooping down-- through the opening into the inner tent where the water and brass basins stood ready for washing. It was within this place that the leather cases containing the travellers' clothes and various necessaries had been placed, and over one of these open portmanteaus the dimly seen figure was bending, and from the slight noises he made it was evident that he was ransacking the case in search of something. "Oh," thought Sam excitedly, "that's why I couldn't sleep--sort o' warning like to do my dooty. Thieves, eh? and not a policeman on the beat!" Just at that moment the figure straightened itself up, and quick as thought Sam stepped close back to the entrance and behind a hanging rug, which hid him from the figure but enabled him to watch its proceedings. Sam's first idea was to shout for help to capture the thief, but he checked himself. "Wouldn't do," he thought. "This sort's too slippery. He'd be off over the sands and gone before anyone came. I've got to catch my gentleman myself. Wonder whether he has a knife." Sam's heart beat fast, but it was with excitement, for there was no leaven of fear. A marauder was robbing his master or one of his master's friends, and he felt it to be his duty to capture the scoundrel. At the same time he intended to do this without injury to himself. "Bless him!" he muttered; "if he'll only come close and turn his back I'll have him down on his face in a jiffy, and sit upon him as if he was a camel. It will be time enough to holloa then." Those were exciting moments, and Sam's heart beat faster still as the man stepped softly out of the inner tent and stood for a few moments where the dim light of the lamp fell upon him, showing him to be a light, active-looking black in white cotton jacket and short drawers, his arms, breast, and legs from mid-thigh being bare, and glistening softly as he moved, while his eyes rolled and the whites stood out clearly against the dark skin. "He'll be hard to hold," thought Sam, "and I mustn't trust to that thin cotton stuff. He'll tear away in a moment. But he hasn't a knife, as far as I can see. What's he got in his pockets, I wonder." Sam wondered more the next moment, as he saw the black dart softly back into the inner tent and disappear, his bare feet not making a sound.