"Come on now--there must be no delay--the horses are ready--at great expense--they are ready and now--_hey, Billy, Jim, Grady, Bert_--_quick--how dare she!--quick--catch that girl!_" But Verbeena's early education when she used to beat all the Harrow boys at sprinting served her well. She covered the three miles back to her own Oasis leaving all pursuers in the ruck. _Time 42-1/2 seconds, but record not official._ CHAPTER XIV Verbeena floundered wild-eyed, wide-mouthed, panting into the tent of the Sheik Amut Ben Butler. She fled into the arms of Amut. She clung there girlishly trembling, so tired she was exhausted. "O, dash it all, dash it all--that man--that man--that _terrible_ man! Save--save me! I'm all for you and Allah hereafter, Amut, save--save me--save me from that _terrible man_!" He held her as he had never held her before--as he never had been able to hold her before. He regarded the pitiful, gasping little figure which tried to kneel at his feet, and, once more a deep and splendid chestiness came upon Amut Ben Butler. He--in spite of all--Allah, and by Jove, he loved her! He had long wrestled with himself concerning it because it was preferable than trying to wrestle with Verbeena. Ah, the dear head now drooping that once so proudly poised with its jaunty clubbed curls. A lion's heart grew under the jelab of the old-time Boss of Oasis Nos. 4, 5, 12 and 16. There was the sound of horsery and the clangor and click of camera men without. "Save me, O God, save me!" gasped Verbeena anew. "That man--that _terrible_ man!" Amut Ben Butler strode proudly to the flap of his tent and looked out. "You just go away from here, every one of you, do you hear? Yes, I mean you too--you big stiff with the silver cigarette case! I think it's phoney anyway. My wife doesn't care to have anything to do with you and I don't either. So back to your aeroplanes and flooey!" In horror, in abject dread Verbeena's clubbed curls were buried in the cushions. But in a little while her distrait, white face was lifted. "Amut," she ventured, "Amut--has he gone?" Amut Ben Butler carefully flicked a sandworm off his silver and black girdle. "Sure, darling," he answered. "I just went out and sent that whole moving picture outfit reeling, Kingpin and all!" She crept closely to him. Her strong young arms went about him. "Amut, my love," she pleaded, "will you promise not to run away from me any more?" "May Allah cross my eyes and crack my teeth, if ever again I think of it, my vibrant Verbie. I wouldn't wanter--ever--the way you act to me now--so nice--so loving--just like a regular girlie." He kissed her otherwise clubbed curls. They snuggled close. Ooooooh, awful close! Throbs palpitant and passionate passed from one to the other--strong, vertiginous, terrific, as of an aching tooth. "Tell me, Amut," she said more softly than she ever knew she could, "who after all the dickens are you?"