He sprang to his feet, and moved slowly, and kept close to the side of the tent until he reached the opening.
“My sweet enchantress, I feel that I could——”
“You could, eh? Well, how do you feel now?”
Max had struck out from the shoulder, and Ibrahim went heels over head into the sand.
“How do you feel?” asked Max, in English.
To his surprise, he was answered in the same language.
“Feel! Very sore. Where did you get so much strength?”
“Who are you?” asked Max.
“I am Ibrahim of Khorassan; and who are you?”
“Well, Mr. Abraham——”