It is as though one were suddenly transported to a street in Stamboul. In imagination the sounds incident to that queer city on the Golden Horn assail the ear: the tinkling of silvery bells, the strident voice of the muezzin on the minaret calling to prayer, the dismal chant of dervishes, the howling of mongrel curs that after nightfall roam the streets. Wycherley, who has been there, rubs his eyes to make sure he is not dreaming. In the quaint Midway, surrounded with its remarkable features, jostling elbows with the odd people of the other hemisphere, it must always be hard to realize one is within the city limits of bustling Chicago, empress of the West. The discussion between Dorothy and her faithless duenna lasts but a couple of minutes, but this is time enough for Aleck to notice many things. It seems almost incredible that Aroun Scutari should dare attempt such a bold game; but who can fathom the depths of daring to which an unscrupulous man will descend when he desires to see his enemy and go one better! The clever _coup d’état_ executed by Samson years ago has remained a thorn in the pasha’s flesh. Time has served to make the wound more irritable, and this Mohammedan comes to the great Fair with but one idea uppermost in his mind--to find the man who defied him on Turkish soil, to turn the tables by stealing his child from under his roof. Craig grinds his teeth at the bare thought, it is so repugnant to him. Then he realizes what strange surroundings fate has placed him amongst. Surely such opportunities for serving Dorothy can have but one natural outcome--he may win her, despite the young miner. The remembrance of this worthy causes Aleck a qualm, but he banishes the sensation. Now the two cloaked figures move again. Dorothy has yielded to her companion’s guidance, and they are advancing. The Canadian cannot but admire the proud pose of the young girl. He remembers that she faced danger once before in the car of the Ferris wheel when the crazy professor was raging about like an escaped mad-house patient. Fear is not an element in her heart, and yet some hidden faculty whispers of danger. She has never forgotten the awful look of hatred which this Turk shot into the face of her father when by chance they met on the Plaisance, and it has ere now been patent to her mind that some link in the far away past connects their destinies. Seeing the pasha hovering there, Dorothy has conceived the idea that he means harm to her, and while the seductive voice of her companion assuages her alarm, it is with something of the feeling with which a soldier marches up to the muzzle of a cannon that Dorothy advances in the direction of the Turk. Then comes the devilish deceit of the woman who has sold herself for gold. She knows the time is at hand for delivering the goods. No doubt the stake is a rich one, since by this stroke she must sever all connection with her patroness, upon whose bounty she has long lived.