“Look, chief! They’re going into the house.”
“I see them,” was the reply. “But I don’t think Calaman or any of his men noticed that they ran away.”
It was fortunate that Calaman was so impressed with his own dignity, which he always maintained with the greatest care when before the people of Shangore, that he had been looking straight ahead as the other soldiers came toward him.
Each man saluted as he passed, and the priest received their homage with grave bows, occasionally glancing out of the corner of his eye to see how Nick Carter took it all.
If it had not been for this bit of ceremony, the priest hardly could have avoided seeing Jefferson Arnold and Leslie dart across the street and into the open door.
Nick Carter would have liked to go into the house at once. But he could not do it while everybody was looking at him.
“That white man must be Pike,” he whispered to Chick. “Let Adil slip away and find out. He is not very different in appearance from the other men of this place. He can get in without being noticed, I dare say.”
But Chick would not agree to this. He pointed out to Nick that it was a mission requiring more knowledge of white men’s ways than Adil was likely to possess, bright as he was.
“I suppose we must wait and see what turns up, Chick,” answered Nick Carter. “But if Pike is there, our business in the city is finished. All we have to do is to get hold of that money and depart.”
Before he had finished he missed Chick from his side. Looking around in some surprise, he was just in time to see his assistant slipping into the same doorway that previously had swallowed up the two Arnolds.