“I will not?”
“No.”
“Why not, dog?”
“Because it would be the signal for your death.”
“What mean you?”
“I mean that I should take particular pains to send a bullet through your wretched carcass the instant the signal was given.”
Ali Mustaf’s swarthy skin grew sallow, and he recoiled a bit.
“Allah save me!” he muttered, in Arabic. “The young dog means it! It is a marvel that he has no fear.”
Then the two Moors exchanged some words, keeping their eyes upon Frank all the while.
Frank well understood the peril of his situation, and he felt that all the chances were against him. At the same time he had no thought of giving up as long as he could struggle for his life.