“Spaghetti!” squealed the Sheik Amut ardently.
His faithful servant’s pallid face appeared in the flapway.
Only to see his august, beloved chieftain on all fours with Verbeena just mounting his back.
“O, momma! O, polpetteenies!” gasped Spaghetti.
“You keep out of this, Mac, or you’ll get yours!” warned the fightin’ flapper with flashing eyes which shone from her face.
“Sapristi, Queena Verbeena! Escusa! I come only to maka aska what you lika for eata? What da nica, sweeta lady she lika for deener, eh?”
“Duck!” said Verbeena.
Silently, swiftly the perfect servant withdrew.
The while Verbeena had not for an instant paused in massaging Sheik Amut. She was all dressed, you remember, for riding and when she got on the back of the once proud devil of the desert she gave him the spurs.
And then the hat-pin.