“You bet he did!” nodded the Texan.
“The right or wrong of it makes no difference to these fanatics,” said Zenas. “They won’t stop to ask who was right and who was wrong. They’ll just go ahead and chop up the foreigners. This hotel is watched. The people in it have been warned against leaving it. A few got away on the train, but the rest of the people in the place are panic-stricken. They realize the danger. The trouble with you two reckless young rascals is that you do not realize the peril. Somebody is going to confess that two persons left this hotel in the night. They’ll trace the two. It will be found out that you were present when the Pasha was killed, and your lives will not be worth a penny. Oh, it’s a—— Hark! What’s that?”
From the street outside came a peculiar, blood-chilling sound. It was like the low snarling of many voices, and it grew louder and louder until it became a sullen, muttering roar.
The three rushed to the window and looked out. What they saw caused the old professor to turn pale and faint.
A great mob had gathered in front of the hotel, all Turks or people of the Moslem faith, and others were coming rapidly from many directions.
The crowd was armed with clubs, sticks, stones, and so forth. A few flourished swords or other deadly weapons.
They are crying out in their indignation against the foreigners. A crooked, befezzed Turk was their leader. At sight of him Dick Merriwell uttered an exclamation.
“See that man?” he cried—“the one who is urging the mob on?”
“I sure see the varmint,” nodded Buckhart.
“Well, he’s the old wretch who bribed Ras al Had’s black men to betray Nadia and myself.”