The two guides had listened to this dialogue with evident interest and not a little amusement at the expense of Klein. It was Fernando who again broke in upon their talk.
"We will test the sheikh," said he. "We will soon find out his intentions."
At that he turned to his brother, and for some minutes the two spoke in Spanish. After a while it was Cortes who approached Klein and touched him on the arm.
"Get out of your clothes," said he. "I intend to wear them."
Peter Klein was glad enough of the chance of disguising his identity. Cortes put on the tattered white ducks, torn in a score of places by the thorn-trees in the bush, the pith helmet and the leather leggings, and then returned to the fire.
There, he loaded his revolver and the magazine of his Lee-Metford carbine. That done, without a word to his brother, he squeezed himself through the crack in the wall, and disappeared beyond it.
[CHAPTER XIV—Buried Alive!]
They waited for many minutes in absolute silence. Peter Klein was seated at the fire. There also was Fernando, who appeared to have fallen asleep in a sitting position. As for the two boys, they remained near the opening through which the man had passed, straining their ears to catch the slightest sound without.
Presently there came the sharp report of a shot. Then all was silent again.
Fernando immediately sprang to his feet and walked towards the boys. He must have been sleeping lightly, or else feigning slumber.