“Strangest thing I ever saw,” muttered Mr. Hampton. “Not a soul around apparently. Out with your flashlights now, fellows, and we’ll make a search. Keep your rifles ready to deal with emergencies.” Around to the front of the tent they stole. The trees were thinned out. In the weird glow of the moon which penetrated to this open space, everything was plain to be seen. The five tents stood a little apart from each other, clustered to one side. On the other side could be seen a well, its water gleaming in the moonlight. Not a soul advanced to meet them. Not a light showed in any tent. The howling of the dogs continued, Ali with a muttered word of command to his Arabs strode forward, passing the well on his left. Two of his followers went at his heels. In a moment he was among the dogs, kicking them aside, as their sharper yelping testified. Before Mr. Hampton or any of those left behind could begin an investigation of the tents, Ali came flying back, leaving his two Arabs behind him. “Three men dead,” he declared tersely. “One the Professor, another Ben Hassim, the third a strange white man in strange clothes.” “I’ll have a look,” said Mr. Hampton. “In the meantime, do you investigate the tents to see if there is anybody here.” Ali nodded and Mr. Hampton strode away, calling the boys to follow. Jack turned as he passed the well. Already Ali, flashlight in hand, was diving into the biggest of the tents, with an Arab at his heels, while another was stationed in the open space on guard. The cautious Ali was taking no chance of being surprised in the rear. A little beyond the well, they came upon the two Arabs left in charge of the dead by Ali, while the dogs, reduced to low whines, crouched or circled at a distance. The bodies of the fallen men had been straightened. They lay on their backs, their faces upturned to the moonlight. Mr. Hampton knelt beside the body of the Professor, placing one hand on his forehead and the other on his wrist. He shook his head sorrowfully and raised a heavy glance toward the boys. “Dead,” he said. No sign of life could be discovered, either, in the body of Ben Hassim. Then that of the third man was approached. As Ali had said, he was a white man, of medium height, with a sharp, hawk-like cast of features. Even in the weird moonlight, the strangeness of the white toga-like garment, belted in at the waist with a dark heavy cord, falling to a little below the knees and leaving the legs bare, could be seen. Unlike the others, whose eyes were opened in death, this man lay with his eyes closed. Mr. Hampton bent forward with a sharp exclamation. After making a quick examination, during which the boys whispered to each other in comment on the man’s unusual dress and appearance, Mr. Hampton got quickly to his feet. “This man shows signs of life,” he said. “Two of you carry him back to the tents.”