“It was the work of a minute,” cried Shibli, much excited. “We have many useful things, but alas! no money. Nesìb has ten fowls which he caught and bagged before I could have laid hand on one of them. Also, he changed some things from house to house, so that those fellahìn may suspect one another of the theft. He is a devil, this Thief. I had been naught without him.” Hassan looked hard at the speaker. “The praise to Allah,” he said, “we have now two thieves instead of one.” The boy’s eyes flashed with anger, and his lips parted to make answer. The next minute his eyes swam in tears, and he hung his head, silenced. For long he spoke no word to anyone, but rode apart in dudgeon or despondency. They came to a wady trending eastward athwart their road. A fairly defined goat path ran along its hither bank. Saying they had gone far enough in a straight line from the city, Hassan led the way upon that narrow track, the rest following him in single file. They had not proceeded far in the new direction ere their leader reined up. The track was gone. But the sharp eyes of Nesìb made out a village in the distance where they could be sure of learning the way. Hassan resigned the post of leader to the Thief, himself riding second in the file. He could thus converse with Nesìb without fear of being overheard. “We have no money,” he said savagely. “Look to it that we obtain some before evening. How can we enter the Tower, how fee the soldiers, without money? I myself will help thee, if thou fearest a bold stroke.” “No money.” Nesìb’s shoulders went up to his ears on the shrug of despair. “I will do what is possible, O my dear lord! But money is not like fowls, nor yet like flowers by the wayside. Allah witness, I can neither catch nor pluck it. I know not beforehand where it lies. It must come to my hand, or I cannot take it. Allah put it near me, since our need is urgent.” At the entering in of the village Nesìb had spied from afar, grew a fine tree, beneath which, at the hour of their approach, lay two sturdy youths asleep. These being awakened, one of them gladly undertook to guide their honors to a place whence the road ran clear to El Cûds. For half an hour he led them in and out among the stony hills till, near a village superior in size and structure to any they had yet seen, he set them on a wide track and pointed out their direction. Receiving some small coins for his services, he cried on Allah to increase their wealth. “May Allah heed him,” muttered Hassan, “for he has our last dinâr.” The sun was still high when they learnt from some other wayfarers that they were again near to the city and within a short hour of the village of Zeyd’s relation. Hassan bade Shibli and the rest go on thither, while he and Nesìb attended to some business they had to transact in common. With laughter and knowing looks, the troop rode off.