The men chuckled by the fires at the camel-driver's discomfiture. He had intended to substitute a slow, saddle-galled baggage-colt.
'Stand back!' one shouted, lashing the Bisharin under the belly with a quirt. Dick obeyed as soon as he felt the nose-string tighten in his hand,—and a cry went up, 'Illaha! Aho! He is loose.'
With a roar and a grunt the Bisharin rose to his feet and plunged forward towards the desert, his driver following with shouts and lamentation. George caught Dick's arm and hurried him stumbling and tripping past a disgusted sentry who was used to stampeding camels.
'What's the row now?' he cried.
'Every stitch of my kit on that blasted dromedary,' Dick answered, after the manner of a common soldier.
'Go on, and take care your throat's not cut outside—you and your dromedary's.'
The outcries ceased when the camel had disappeared behind a hillock, and his driver had called him back and made him kneel down.
'Mount first,' said Dick. Then climbing into the second seat and gently screwing the pistol muzzle into the small of his companion's back, 'Go on in God's name, and swiftly. Good-bye, George. Remember me to Madame, and have a
