The Sheik's eyes grew white-rimmed with astonishment. Vaguely he groped for the Frank's hand, then let his own fall limp.
"Allahu akbar!" he gasped.
The Master nodded at Brodeur. The droning of the apparatus ceased, and again the hand became visible.
"Faith!" the major's voice was heard. "We've landed half a dozen home runs, and they've never even got to second!"
"Come, O Bara Miyan!" the Master smiled. "Now we will put away the things of magic, and talk the words of men. Here is my salt!"
The Sheik gingerly accepted a pinch, and with much misgiving put it into his mouth. He produced salt of his own, which the Master tasted.
"It is done," said the Master. "Now thou and I are akhawat. Nahnu malihin." (We have eaten salt.)
"But only from this mid-day till noon of the morrow," the Olema qualified the bond.
"Even so! Remember, though, that the salt is now in the stomachs of all thy people, both here and in the city, as it is in the stomachs of all my men!"
"I will remember."