“Got a right to hab! Me, one time, Prince of Limbi, sah!”

“Imp of darkness now and a castaway in Arabia! That is what you are!”

“You mean that?”

“Take it straight.”

It seemed as if there was going to be a fall out between Mole and Monday.

They had forgotten their threatening surroundings.

At this moment some shots whistled over their heads.

Both were silent.

They crouched down in the thick brush and high growing grass.

It was not a novel experience.