“Oh, not that far!” “How do you know, smarty? _You_ weren’t there!” “Well—well! Maybe he did. But why didn’t you stop him before he went so far?” “Stop him! Bob Taylor, I just wish you’d have to take a ride on a lion once! Stop him! I _did_ try to. I yelled and yelled at him to stop; but he just went the faster.” “Well, why didn’t you let loose and roll off, then?” “Just because I _couldn’t_—that’s why.” “You _couldn’t_?” “No, I _couldn’t_!” irritably. “Why?” “Why? Bob, you’re foolish! Just because he went so fast I was afraid to let loose—afraid the fall might hurt me.” Bob laughed. “Laugh!” muttered Fitz, gritting his teeth. “You think you’re smart!” “But how did you get off? How did you get away from the lion?” the boy suggested. “He stumbled and fell—and threw me off.” “Oh!” “Uh-huh.” “Well, didn’t he try to eat you up, then?” “Eat me up? No, he was dead.” “Dead?” “That’s what I said.” “Why, what killed him?” “I don’t know; I didn’t stop to find out.” “What do you _think_ killed him?” “I think he just ran himself to death.” “Oh, Fitz!” “Or he was scared to death.” “Take care!” “Or died from heart disease.” “Fitz Mee, you’re yarning to me; you’ve been yarning to me about your adventure all the way through.” “Look here!” Fitz cried, grinning impishly. “Wasn’t I on the lion’s back the last you saw of me?” “Yes.” “And wasn’t he carrying me off across the sands?” “Yes.” “Well, haven’t I come back alive—without a hurt or scratch?” “Yes, I guess so.” “Well, then, you’ve no good reason to doubt my story. And, Bob, I can tell you something else—something that _will_ surprise you and test your credulity.” “Let’s hear it.” “How did I get back here—from a hundred miles away, do you suppose?” “I’ve no idea.” “I fell in with a caravan of Arabs, and they brought me.” “What!” “Yes.” “Where are the Arabs now?” “Right out there. See ’em?” Bob looked in the direction indicated. There, sure enough, was a number of Arabs with horses and camels rapidly approaching the oasis. The boy turned to his companion and murmured reproachfully: “Fitz, you’re a big story-teller—that’s what _you_ are. Just now you happened to see those Arabs, and you put them into your story. You’ve been spinning a big yarn to me. I’ll bet the lion didn’t carry you but a short distance out on the sands; then you came to your senses, got over your surprise, and rolled off and made your way back. I believe you’ve been here ever since shortly after I went to sleep. Now, haven’t you?” Fitz Mee grinned broadly; but would make no reply to the charge. Instead, he said: “Bob, we’d better be getting away from here. Those Arabs have been travelling all night, taking advantage of the cool air; and now they’ll spend the hot hours of the day under the trees of this oasis near this spring.” “My!” Bob ejaculated sharply. “What?” his companion asked, in keen concern. “I was just thinking about the spring—about its being charged with electricity.”