They finally succeeded in leading him into the gloom of the cemetery, and he seemed greatly relieved when they ascertained beyond doubt that Major Fitts and his second had not arrived.
“Perhaps they won’t come at all,” said the old pedagogue eagerly.
“Perhaps not,” agreed Dick; “but I wouldn’t count on that, for I believe Achmet will bring the major.”
But the professor was hopeful as well as anxious. He watched the gray light of morning sifting through the cypress branches and bringing out the ghostly tombstones with more and more distinctness. Then he began to fear.
“I—I think there is no doubt about it,” he said, at last. “He is not coming, boys. He’s a bluffer. He tried to bluff me, but he failed.”
Having arrived at this conclusion, he rapidly grew indignant.
“This thing is outrageous!” he blustered—“outrageous, I say! Why, the craven little whipper-snapper! Just think of it, he hasn’t the courage to come here like a man and meet me in mortal combat! He is a coward—that’s what he is, a coward! A fire eater, indeed! Bah! The next time I meet him, I shall tweak his nose! Yes, sir, tweak it!”
In the dim, gray light Dick and Brad exchanged glances. Neither laughed, but both felt like it.
“I’m tired of waiting,” declared Zenas. “The time is past. He isn’t coming, and we may as well return to the hotel.”
“I think we had better wait a little longer,” urged Dick.