“I was,” Danbazzar replied gravely. “I had an idea that someone was hiding there, watching me--and I won’t be spied upon.” “That’s odd!” said Barry; “because _I_ had a notion I saw someone there about five minutes ago.” “Is that so? What was _your_ impression--a tall thin man?” “Yes,” Barry nodded, “unpleasantly like an unwrapped mummy!” “Humph!” Danbazzar lighted a cigarette. “Very queer! Evidently you’re not aware of the fact that that little hollow is supposed by the Arabs to be haunted!” Side by side they proceeded up the slope, Danbazzar heading confidently for the camp. He seemed to know these desolate hills as he knew every street and every alley in Cairo. For Danbazzar, Egypt had few secrets. “However,” said Barry, “if we really saw anybody, it was probably some harmless eccentric who lives alone in one of the ruins.” “It may have been,” Danbazzar murmured, “or it may not! What news of the tomb?” “They are still enlarging the opening, but except for Hassan and the younger Said, no one has been through yet.” “I’m very anxious,” Danbazzar declared. “You can’t be more anxious than I am!” cried Barry. “Possibly not,” the other admitted, “but my anxiety may be different from yours. I have spent several hours to-day with Mr. Tawwab.” “Yes,” Barry prompted eagerly--“what do you think he knows?” “I don’t think he knows anything. He’s just guessing. But he takes it for granted that we’re digging somewhere--for something. We’re going to be watched, or intimidated, or both!” “Intimidated!” Barry echoed. “Exactly!” Danbazzar nodded in his slow, grave fashion. “I practically made Tawwab an offer in the roundabout ceremonious fashion which alone they understand. He intimated with equal circumlocution that he didn’t think the price high enough. I told him in a complimentary speech of fifteen minutes to go to the devil. He pressed on me several cups of coffee and nasty musk-scented cigarettes. Then he gave me to understand in the course of twenty minutes or more that I had his official permission to go to hell likewise. We parted perfectly good friends, though. It was a question of terms. But I think he holds the winning card.” “What do you mean?” “Well!” Danbazzar shook his leonine head. “Mr. Tawwab reverted to the story of these Hawwara Arabs reported from El Kharga. I thought it was just plain lying when he spoke of it at first, but as he came back on the matter to-day I knew there was more in it. He informed me, with deep regret, that a party of the Hawwara had been reported on the caravan road some five miles south of Araki.” Coming from moonlight into shadow at that moment, Barry met the glance of the speaker’s eyes. “Do you mean,” he asked, “that they are coming in this direction?”