something in his back trousers pocket, but it stuck in the pocket, and it seemed to him that he would never get it out. Finally it came out with a jerk, and he held in his trembling hand, a shiny twenty-two revolver. The Sahib had given it to him the year before, and it was one of his priceless possessions. But he had never before seen a time when he thought that he needed it.
So, dressed in nothing but his pajamas, and with the small revolver clutched in his hand, he ran wildly for the old barn where he knew that Joie was kept.
Each second he strained his ear for the dreaded sound. Would he be too late! He ran as he had never run before.
Ali strained every nerve in his brown body, and threw himself among the men panting and gasping.
