The fellow made some sort of an explanation in broken English, but scarcely a word of it could Dick understand.
By this time they were in a quarter of the city that added to the apprehension of the American boy. The people they passed stared at them in a manner that was decidedly disagreeable, to say the least, and many made remarks that were plainly of an insulting nature.
Finally Dick stopped.
“Look here,” he said; “we will go it alone the rest of the way. We are much obliged for your kindness, but we don’t need you any more.”
Then the old Turk approached him and mildly but firmly insisted that it would be quite suicidal to dismiss the escort in such a manner and in such a quarter of the city.
“When did you get into this game?” demanded the boy, somewhat warmly. “It doesn’t strike me that you have anything to say about it.”
Then the crooked old fellow protested that he was a friend to Ras al Had and was working entirely in the interest of the sheik.
Dick’s suspicions were redoubled, instead of allayed.
“That may be true,” he said; “but we don’t propose to trouble Ras al Had’s friends any more. Take the whole bunch and go.”
“And never again have the courage to look the great sheik in the face?” said the Turk. “No; not until I know you are safe with your friends will I abandon you.”