“Nine it is,” and Loria swung away, as Fleming Stone turned and hastened into the hotel.
Straight to Mrs. MacDonald he went and asked where Pauline was.
“She went to visit Memphis and Sakkara with her cousin,” said the smiling chaperon. “That is, she went with her cousin’s dragoman, and Mr. Loria met them at Bedrashein.”
“Oh, did he! Now listen, Mrs. MacDonald. Miss Stuart is in danger. I am sure of this. I am going to her aid, but I may not——” Stone choked, “I may not succeed soon. Tell me of this dragoman. What does he look like?”
Graphically, Mrs. MacDonald described the statuesque Ahri, and almost before she stopped speaking, Stone was flying along the corridor, down the stairs, and out at the door.
He caught a train to Bedrashein, and the first person he bumped into at the little station was Ahri himself waiting for the train to Cairo.
Fleming Stone went straight to the point. “Look here, Ahri,” he said to the astonished Arab, who had never seen him before, “what have you done with Miss Stuart?”
For once the phlegmatic Arab was caught off his guard.
“What do you mean?” he stammered. “I have not seen her to-day.”
“Don’t lie to me,” and Stone gave him a look that cowed him. “Now listen. You’re in Mr. Loria’s pay. All right. He paid you well for the job you’ve just done. Now, I’ll pay you twice,—three times as well to undo it. Moreover, I’ll inform you straight that you’ll never work for Mr. Loria again. He’s a villain, a wicked man. Take my advice, Ahri, give him up and come over to me. By so doing, you’ll not only escape punishment for your work to-day, but get a fresh start toward a good position. I don’t believe you’re a bad man at heart, Ahri. At least, I don’t believe you’ll continue to be if you’re better paid to be good.”