Instead, there were three or four divans covered with rugs of faded patterns and colors, a cheap cracked mirror hanging askew on one wall of the tent, a veil thrown awry over one divan, and that was all. Ali explained. “The women left in haste,” he said. “Perhaps, they were carried off by the attackers. Yet they had time to bundle their clothes and take them along.” Questions burned on the boys’ lips, and they flung them at Ali. Who had attacked? Had the whole tribe been carried off into captivity? Why had the Professor and his faithful servant, Ben Hassim, alone been killed? Ali shook his head. They must wait until the old woman was in a state to be questioned. Perhaps, too, some information could be wrung from the lips of the wounded captive, although it was possible from his appearance that he did not speak Arabic. Never had Ali seen a man dressed as he, and a white man, too. It was all a nightmare, non-understandable. Let the boys wait until Allah sent an interpretation. With this they had to be content. Dropping the curtain, they emerged into the main portion of the tent, finding Mr. Hampton absorbed in his attempt to revive the wounded prisoner. He looked up only long enough to explain he had been unable to find any wound from bullet, sword or spear. The man had been felled by a blow on the head. Mr. Hampton was not certain whether concussion of the brain had followed. One of the Arabs he had despatched to bring up the two guards and the camels, left in the desert. When the caravan arrived, he would be able to get his medical and surgical supplies. Then he would see what further could be done. Possessed of a knowledge of rude surgery acquired in his out-of-the-way expeditions, Mr. Hampton was able to set broken limbs and perform minor operations, but trepanning was beyond him. Should that prove necessary, he would be helpless to aid the fallen man. “We’re going to have a look at the Professor’s tent, Dad,” explained Jack, following his father’s remarks. “We’ll be back soon. Want to see what happened to his radio outfit, for one thing.” Mr. Hampton nodded, and the boys trooped out at Ali’s heels. Three Arabs hunkered over the fire, for the night had turned chill, as it invariably does on the great desert. Beside them was the figure of the old woman. They were not speaking, but sat motionless, staring into the flames. The fourth man had gone for his two comrades left in charge of the camels. Ali led the way into another tent. While the boys played their flashlights about the interior, he found and lighted an oil lamp, a shallow copper vessel with a spout that held a wick. When this was lighted, they examined the place more closely.