No one was in the alcove, but another door led out into a sort of hallway, and casting aside all thoughts of personal danger, Bob passed through it.
The next instant he found himself in a narrow passageway, with no windows or other means to admit light. The semidarkness was tantalizing, overcoming, but the boy went bravely on. Occasionally he stopped to listen. But no sound reached his ears. Could it be possible that Fekmah had been....
The thought was not a pleasant one, and Bob dismissed it from mind. Here was a door. Perhaps this would reveal something.
As quietly as possible he turned the latch and peeped in the room.
In the darkness he could make out no one at first. Then his eyes almost burst from his head as he saw, lying on the floor in the corner, tightly bound and gagged—Fekmah!
For a moment Bob stood spellbound. Then he rushed over to the unfortunate man.
“Fekmah,” he cackled gently and then bent over and felt of the Arab’s heart. It was still beating, and with a swift motion of a small knife Bob cut the ropes that bound the man. Then he removed the gag and stood back to see if his friend had been injured.
The Arab’s eyes opened, and he sat up with a start. A moment later the look of fear vanished from his face as he saw Bob.
“Praise be to Allah!” he murmured, getting feebly to his feet.
“Are you hurt?” the youth asked.