“Look out!” roared Patsy. “Here they come, twenty of them!” He pointed up the way the scoundrels had followed Leslie Arnold, and by which they had suddenly retreated. It was apparent why the two men had gone back, although Nick Carter was the first to see it. “Take cover! Quick!” he thundered. “Those two are bringing the whole pack about our ears.” Everybody rushed behind rocks, rifle in hand, except Nick. He was looking over into the chasm. “Chief!” cried Chick anxiously. “What’s the matter? What are you doing out there? They’ll fill you full of arrows and poison. Come back here!” Nick Carter waved his hand to silence his terrified assistant. Then he flung himself flat upon the narrow path, with one of his long, sinewy, capable arms stretched down over the precipice. There was a momentary strain, a quickening of the great detective’s breath. Then--a tall, dark, lean figure, in scanty white clothing, topped by a large white turban with a jewel in the center, leaped lightly upon the narrow path. “Thank you, sahib!” said Jai Singh calmly, as, taking Nick Carter’s hand, he dragged him to the safety of the overhanging rock. It was not Jai Singh’s way to offer effusive thanks, even for the saving of his life. But the detective knew that, even if he could not have depended on Jai Singh to the last drop of his blood before, he certainly could command it now. “How many of those men are there, Mr. Arnold?” asked Nick of Leslie. “I mean, of those fellows from the other side of the mountains.” “About twenty here,” was the reply. “In the whole country where they worship the Golden Scarab, many thousands.” “I don’t care about the thousands,” answered Nick Carter. “What we have to attend to is the twenty or more who followed you.” He put his head a little away out from the rock. A dozen of the peculiarly fashioned arrows rattled around him. “Poor marksmen, those people,” remarked the great detective, with a smile, as he drew back his head. CHAPTER XI. NICK’S MOST POWERFUL WEAPON. “They were taking me up in the hills,” explained Leslie Arnold, in reply to a question from his father. “I broke away two days ago, and have been wandering about ever since.” “Without food?” “No. I managed to get enough of the cakes they use over there in Bolongu to keep me alive. I took them from my guards when they were sleeping. Only half of them were ever awake at one time. Generally they left five or six to guard me, while the others rested.” “Must be a tired lot,” remarked Patsy, as he peeped a little way out from the rocks to see what the enemy was doing. “Who took you up there, and how was it?” went on the elder Arnold. “Was Pike in it?” Leslie Arnold clenched his teeth and drove one fist hard into the palm of his other hand. “Yes. The scoundrel! He took the money from the business, and he is over there, in Bolongu.” “The Land of the Golden Scarab,” put in Jai Singh quietly. “It is also called Bolongu. I did not tell you.”