“Dick?” she gasped—“Dick? Impossible! Yet—yet I believe you—you are! Why, how——”
“Can’t explain in full. Fooled old Hafsa. If Ras al Had does not fail me we’ll have you out of this before morning. If Hafsa only knew——”
A sound behind him caused Dick to turn and spring up.
The door had opened to admit Hafsa Pasha himself, and his face was contorted with rage. He glared at Dick.
“So you did fool me, did you?” he snarled. “You thought I could not hear your words, but there is a place in this wall where a person listening outside may hear and understand the softest whisper spoken here. You deceived me, but it will cost you your life!”
He drew a knife.
From some part of his clothes Dick Merriwell whipped forth a heavy revolver, which he leveled at the Turk’s heart.
“Halt right where you are!” he commanded clearly. “Another step and I’ll drill a hole through your dastardly heart! I came prepared for any emergency.”
Hafsa Pasha uttered a cry. It was answered somewhere outside the room.
But at that moment there came from a distant portion of the house the sound of heavy, crashing blows.