"The view I take is that she merely wishes to give von Kerber every chance. So long as Mr. Fenshawe remains interested--beguiled, if you like--she switches his thoughts away from the object of our journey. Your grandfather is a masterful man, Miss Fenshawe. If he suspected that we were following a wild-goose chase he would turn south again this very hour." "Yet I am sure of my ground," she persisted. Royson's horse started and shied. A small brown snake, coiled up in the sunlight, and almost invisible amidst the stones, squirmed rapidly into a crevice beneath a rock. Such incidents in the desert were too frequent to demand comment. Dick patted the Arab's neck and soon soothed him. "Failing our discovery of this fabled treasure, I can appreciate Mrs. Haxton's willingness to many a millionaire," he went on. "Yet there are difficulties in the way. That viper reminds me of one. Would not von Kerber object?" "No," said Irene. They jogged along in silence for some distance. The girl added nothing, to her emphatic monosyllable. Dick felt a tugging at his heart-strings which was becoming a dangerously frequent symptom. "As you have favored me with your confidence thus far, won't you take the next step, and tell me why you credit Baron von Kerber with such complaisance?" he demanded. "A woman should not always be asked for reasons, Mr. Royson," said she lightly. "In the graver events of life one wishes for them, nevertheless." "Perhaps we are deviating from the chief issue," she countered. "If only I could persuade grandad that he is being wilfully misled, things might go as I wish. Can't you help, Mr. Royson?" Then she turned her face to his, and the temptation that had gripped him many a time of late came back with an intensity that was almost unendurable. He did not flinch from her steadfast eyes. Though the path of honor was steep and straight he must tread it to the end. "If I tell your grandfather what little I know of these people I break my word," he said harshly. "That is the only reply I can make, Miss Fenshawe. May I add the ignoble argument that any such breach of faith on my part would probably be useless? You ought to sympathize with me." "Why?" she said coldly. "Because it is not often that a man is tortured as I am by a conflict between duty and--and desire." "There is our palm grove," she cried, pointing to a few stunted trees whose fronds showed above the rock-strewn bank of a small wady, or ravine, which cut through the center of the shelving plateau they were crossing. "The ground is fairly clear here. Shall we try a canter?"