“Glad to relegate that task to you, Craig, if the proper occasion arises. Now with regard to this note--what will it contain, you ask? Some startling intelligence for Dorothy--nothing more nor less than the fact that I have been injured in a personal encounter with my old enemy Scutari, who is used up worse than myself, and that I am being taken care of by--who do you think?” “Marda, the fortune teller of Cairo Street--once your wife and her mother! Would they use such a lever as that to open her heart and blind her eyes?” says Craig, frowning. “Bah! you don’t know these Turks. They are utterly devoid of the tender feelings we cherish. They buy their wives, and I tell you the average Turkish woman is almost as much to be pitied as some of the women of India, who, once married, retire to their husband’s house to look no more on a man’s face other than his, and at his death consider themselves lucky not to be buried with him. Ah, Craig! our girls, bless them, never realize what privileges they enjoy until they visit Turkey, India, and China, where women are marketable articles. But to return to this remarkable tale from Aladdin or some of the Arabian Nights’ entertainments. “The letter is expected to deceive Dorothy, and cause her to accompany Anthony Wayne, who has long been with me, and shares my confidence. Her first thought would be to take her maid, but Anthony will see to it that she is indisposed--he can easily drug the poor girl in some way. It is the purpose of the scoundrels to bring Dorothy to the Midway, for half of the Turk’s pleasure would be lost if I met my fate ignorant of his full purpose.” “Good Heavens, Mr. Cereal! you speak so calmly about it, I am amazed. Do you really mean that it is his intention to--injure you bodily--to make away with you?” “I have reason to believe so, though ready to confess the Turk is a puzzle to me. Beyond a certain point this description of their plan does not go. Enough is known for me to block their little game in the start, if I so desire, by calling upon the police and having them arrested.” “You will do so, of course.” Samson Cereal gives a dry chuckle. “That would be the allopathic way--putting an obstacle in front of the runaway horse, Fever, and checking him with a smash. I’m a homeopath, and my principle is to start another horse after him, gradually overtake the flying rascal, and bring him to terms. Thence, I shall meet cunning with cunning--_similia similibus curantur_.” “But--my dear sir, will you allow Dorothy--I beg pardon, Miss Cereal--to undergo these terrible chances?” Aleck is worried--he is a Canadian, and hardly understands what a reckless American speculator like Samson Cereal might be tempted to do, once a wild freak seized upon him.