“Ven you get der street indo,” said the old Jew, “it will pe vell vor you to keep your mouth still and haf nothing to say. If you talk you vill betray yourseluf. Now you vos done. I vill attend to der poys.”
Dick pushed Brad forward, and Abraham began on him. With marvelous rapidity he turned the boy into a young Greek. The work of the Jew was of the most skillful sort, yet it was performed so rapidly that it actually seemed careless and slipshod. The results attained, however, spoke for themselves.
Dick’s trousers were turned up, his shoes stripped off, coarse and dirty socks pulled on over those he wore. He was given a pair of trousers which came to his ankles, a long, loose, dirty blouse that fell to the knees, a coarse, heavy pair of slipper-like shoes, and finally a battered and soiled fez, with a tassle that hung down over one ear. His face was bedaubed and rubbed with grease paint until his complexion changed to dirty yellow. The Jew touched his features here and there with a pencil, and last the contour of his nose was altered by a bit of nose putty. This seemed to be an afterthought on the part of Abraham, but it finished the effect and altered a handsome boy into a slouching, disreputable-appearing young rascal, such as Merriwell had noticed occasionally on the streets of Damascus.
Outside the hotel there was a sudden great shouting.
“Some one has arrived,” announced Brad, who had ventured to peep from the window.
The tall form of Assouan appeared in the doorway.
“Hasten!” he exclaimed. “The Pasha’s officer has come to take you! He is at the door.”
CHAPTER XX—THE FLIGHT
“Too late!” groaned the professor, almost collapsing. “I feared it!”
“Thank goodness Nadia got out of the trap!” muttered Buckhart.