CHAPTER XXIX--THE PURSUIT ON THE RIVER
It was night in Egypt. The silver moonlight fell on the shining, silentNile, its low shores lined with shadowy palms. Up the Nile a smallexcursion steamer was spluttering and throbbing, showing its lights.
It was a strange and unusual hour for a steamer to be moving on thatportion of the Nile, where but few steamers are ever seen. Traffic onthis river is carried on mainly with the aid of _dahabeahs_, which areimmense combined sail and row boats, having a low forward deck and alarge cabin aft.
Forward, near the pilot house of the little excursion steamer, therewere a number of persons. They were conversing in low tones and keepinga sharp outlook ahead and on either side.
Dick, Brad, Professor Gunn, and Dunbar Budthorne were there. There werealso two others in the party, and these were Colonel Stringer and JohnCoddington.
"There's a deep shadow over yonder in the bend of the river, pard," saidBuckhart, in a low tone. "They may be lying in there somewhere."
Immediately Dick turned to the man at the wheel and gave an order. Thecourse of the steamer was changed and she headed toward the shadow thatlay in the bend of the river. The pilot ran as near as he dared, onaccount of the shallowness of the water. He then informed Dick that theycould not go in farther.
"I think it is near enough," said the boy. "We can see now. There's noyacht lying in there."
The pilot declared it impossible that a small yacht should lie hiddenfrom their view anywhere in the shadowy space, and Dick told him to headup the river again and get into the channel, from which both shorescould be watched.
In order to make sure they did not pass the yacht for which they weresearching, it was necessary at times for the steamer to make a sinuous,winding course from side to side, the river being wide in many places.
This steamer was one of two excursion boats which made trips from Cairofar up the river to the ruins of ancient Thebes and other spots ofhistoric interest.
Dick Merriwell had lost little time after learning from Dunbar Budthornethat Nadia had been carried up the river in the private yacht of thestrange Turk. He formed his plans rapidly and went to work.
The first thing was to decide on some method of pursuit, and he quicklyconcluded that they must follow in a yacht or steamer.
No yacht could be secured, and so he sought for a steamer. One of theboats was up the river. The other, and smaller one, had just returnedfrom a trip and was advertised to leave again in two days.
Dick had no small difficulty in finding the captain, but this he finallyaccomplished. The captain was a Swede. At first he seemed to think theAmerican boy was crazy, but it did not take Richard Merriwell long toconvince that Swede of his sanity and earnestness.
The captain stated that he must have a sum representing nearly a hundreddollars a day for the use of his boat. Dick agreed to pay it. Thecaptain grinned and asked him where he was going to get so much money.
Then the American lad flashed a purse, the clinking sound of itscontents causing the eyes of the Swede to glitter.
"How much advance money do you demand?" asked Dick.
The captain said he would require two days' pay.
"And then you will be ready to start----"
"It's night now," said the Swede. "Ay be rady to start in mornang."
"You must be ready to start in just sixty minutes," said Dick.
"Ay can't do it."
"If you are ready to start in sixty minutes I'll pay you this amountextra."
The boy laid down four pieces of money.
"Ay be rady," said the captain, taking up the money.
In the meantime Professor Gunn had met and told Colonel Stringer, andthe colonel had carried the story to his English friend, Coddington.These men were eager to join in the pursuit of Nadia's captors. Theywere on hand when Dick and Brad appeared and announced the securing ofthe steamer.
"My dear Coddington," said the colonel, "the prospect of a littlefighting makes my blood stir. Are yo' armed, suh?"
"I have my pistol, don't you know," answered the Englishman.
"Very good, suh. I have two pistols, and I can use them both. We'll makeit red-hot fo' this Spaniard and his Turkish friend, if we evah catchthem."
"But I'm afraid we'll never catch them," said Coddington. "This steamerthe boy has secured is a slow old tub."
"We'll overtake them if we have to pursue them clean up to Lake VictoriaNyanza," declared Dick grimly. "I don't see why they turned up theriver, if they wish to get away."
"That's what puzzled me up a plenty, pard," put in Buckhart. "MebbeBudthorne made a mistake; mebbe the Turk's yacht went down the river."
But Budthorne insisted that he had made no mistake, and so, when theyhad boarded the excursion steamer and found everything ready for thestart, they headed toward the upper waters of the Nile.
"Look there!"
"Where?"
The exclamation and the question were spoken in a whisper. Dick utteredthe first; the second came from several of his companions.
"Close to the shore in that cove yonder."
"What do you see?"
"Looks like the black hulk of a boat in the shadow of those thickpalms."
"It sure does look that way!" palpitated Buckhart.
"But it may be one of these river boats, don't you know," saidCoddington. "They find many places where they swing in to the shore andtie up."
"She shows no light," said Colonel Stringer.
Dick spoke to the pilot.
"Can you run in there?" he asked. "We think we see a boat near theshore."
The pilot explained that the river was quite deep there, such current asthere was being thrown near the bank by its winding course. He soundedthe bell for half speed and the steamer glided toward the deep shadows.
Professor Gunn was very nervous.
"We must be near the site of old Memphis," he said. "The ruins arecovered by a great palm grove, and you can see plenty of palms there, onthe shore."
But the others were watching the small, dark hulk that lay near theshore close under the shadow of the palms, through which the light fromthe low-lying moon sifted in spots.
"Whoever is on board there, they ought to know we're coming," growledBuckhart, disgusted by the fuss made by the little steamer, which wassnorting and wheezing in a manner to be heard afar in the wonderfulsilence of that Egyptian night.
"I think some one is stirring, don't you know," said Coddington. "Ifancied I saw something move."
Dick had fancied the same. To him it seemed as if some dark figures leftthe steamer and slipped away into the gloom of the palms. Once somethinglike a muffled cry came out across the water, but the wheezing of thesteamer prevented them from hearing it distinctly. Even though it were acry of some sort, they knew it might come from a night bird or aprowling wild beast amid the ruins of the ancient city.
Suddenly and unexpectedly a bar of light shot out from the black hulknear the shore. It struck in their faces, dazzling and blinding them.
Involuntarily they half crouched, while several of them reached fortheir weapons.
"A searchlight!" exclaimed Dick. "We've found the yacht! Look out fortrouble!"
"There sure is liable to be some shooting!" breathed Buckhart; "andwe're mighty fine targets here in this light. Look out for bullets!"
Then a voice hailed them. Some one called to them in Turkish. It was achallenge, although they did not understand the words.
"Talk English," cried Dick. "We don't understand that lingo."
"No, we don't savvy it any at all," said Buckhart.
"Are you trying to collide with me?" demanded a voice from behind thesearchlight. "Keep off!"
"He savvys United States all right," said Brad, in deep satisfaction."Now we can powwow with him."
The captain of the steamer gave a signal for the engineer to reverse hisengines.
"Who are you?" demanded Dick.
"What right have you to ask?" was the indignant retort.
"We take the right. Better answer."
"I am a peaceful individual seeking to get some sleep. Why do you comepounding in here with your noisy old boat and disturb my rest?"
"He's a whole lot saucy," growled the Texan.
"We are looking for a private yacht, owned by a Turkish gentleman,"explained Dick.
"A Turkish gentleman--not!" muttered Buckhart.
"You are friends?" was the inquiry from behind the source of the light.
"Not exactly; but we have important business with the gentleman."
"What's his name?"
"What's your name?"
Dick was talking to give the captain time to bring the steamer alongsidethe yacht, which was no simple task under the circumstances.
Evidently the unknown did not fancy Dick's manner of speech, for heagain commanded them to keep off.
"If you touch my boat you will mar her," he said. "I don't know you. Youmay be scoundrels, robbers, assassins."
"We're looking for some scoundrels," said the Texan, in a low tone; "andI certain reckon we've found them. Get ready to board that boat, and beprepared to fight."
"I warn you to keep off!" angrily shouted the voice of the unseen man."We'll have to defend ourselves."
"If you're on the level," said Dick, "you have nothing to fear from us;but we are determined to make an investigation and find out who and whatyou are."
"We may fire on you."
"Better not."
"We can. You are in the light, while it is impossible for you to seeus."
"If you do any shooting, you'll regret it."
During this "game of talk" the pilot was manipulating the steamer asskillfully as possible, the bell tinkling nervously and frequently inthe engine room.
Dick felt something touch his leg and glanced down. Dunbar Budthorne,agitated and cowering, was crouching on his knees in the shadow of therail at the boy's feet.
"Get up!" muttered Dick, in a low tone. "Don't let them see they havefrightened anybody. We must bluff this thing through."
"They may begin shooting any moment," chattered the cowering fellow. "Ifthey do, they can pick us all off easily. You'll be the first onekilled, too, for Bunol thirsts for your blood."
Not another one of the group had sought shelter. Colonel Stringer, hisgray mustache bristling, was standing erect with his shoulders squaredtoward the enemy, while John Coddington was planted near, his hands onhis hips. Buckhart was close to the rail, his square jaw set, fire inhis eyes. The professor, inspired by the others, had not betrayed anyalarm, although Dick fancied he was ready to drop and seek shelter theinstant any trouble began.
In the very forefront was Merriwell.
The enemy seemed in doubt, and while they hesitated the steamer bumpedagainst the side of the yacht.
The moment the two boats touched Dick and Brad were on the jump. Thesearchlight no longer bore on them. They leaped to the rail and wentover it. From the steamer they sprang to the deck of the yacht.
Colonel Stringer followed, only he was somewhat more cautious. He was amoment ahead of Coddington.
Dick had a pistol in his hand when his feet struck the deck of theyacht. Buckhart also had drawn a weapon.
They found themselves confronted by two men, both of whom seemedunarmed.
"Is this the way peaceable persons behave?" asked a cuttingly sarcasticvoice. "You have boarded my yacht in defiance of my wishes, and, if myeyes do not deceive me in this light, you have weapons in your hands."
"We shall not use our weapons unless you force us to use them," saidDick. "Have no fear of that."
"Under the circumstances," said the stranger, "you must confess that youhave given us great provocation. We should have been justified in firingon you as you drew near, for your movements have been hostile allalong."
"I reckon there was a right good reason why you did no shooting," put inBrad.
"And that reason was--what?"
"You didn't dare."
"Oh, but any man has a right to defend himself and his property. You arewrong in thinking we did not dare. What had we to fear?"
"The row it would raise if you did fire on us. You bet your bootsshooting of that sort would have kicked up a rumpus."
"Your logic is poor. However, I do not intend arguing with you. Now thatyou are here, be good enough to state your business instantly. As soonas possible I wish you to retire."
"I presume you haven't the least idea of the nature of our business?"said Dick sarcastically.
"Not the least, I assure you."
"Where is Miguel Bunol?"
"Who is that?"
"Miguel Bunol."
"You will pardon me, but I fear I have not the pleasure of thegentleman's acquaintance."
"You are a Turk?"
"Yes."
"You own this yacht?"
"Yes."
"You are the man so often seen watching our party in Cairo."
"I think you must be mistaken. I do not seem to remember you. However,if you will step forward a little, I'll have the searchlight turned onyou. I may be able to recognize you then."
"Trick, pard!" hissed the Texan. "At close range they may begin theshooting if they get us into the light."
"Wait a minute," invited Stringer. "Let me say something, if yo'please."
Then he addressed the owner of the yacht.
"Suh," he said, "I am Stringer, suh, Colonel Weatherby Stringer, at onetime of the khedive's army. I am visiting Egypt again after a lapse ofsome years, suh, but I assure yo' I have friends of power and influencein Cairo and Alexandria. In case harm comes to me, suh, the whole affairwill be investigated, and yo' will find yo'self the sufferer if yo' arein any degree at fault. That's all I have to say, suh. Now go ahead anduse your old searchlight as much as yo' like."
This was the little man's defiance.
"Perhaps you may not know me?" broke in the Englishman. "I am JohnCoddington, and I have a large business interest in Cairo. If I shouldhappen to get shot to-night, I assure you, don't you know, that it wouldbe a very serious matter for any one who did the shooting."
The stranger bowed.
"It happened, gentlemen," he said, "that I fancied I recognized you bothwhen the searchlight was turned on your boat."
That seemed to explain why no shooting had been done. The presence ofStringer and Coddington had held the enemy in check.
The enemy? Were these two men the only ones on the yacht? Surely not.Our friends knew there must be more, but where were they?
"Now," said Dick, "as we are beginning to understand each other, we willinform you further that we are looking for a Spaniard by the name ofMiguel Bunol. It is known that he proceeded up the river on the privateyacht of a Turkish gentleman. I hardly fancy there is another such yachton this part of the river."
"And so you think this man you seek must be on board my boat?"
"Exactly."
"He is not."
"Do you deny that he has been? Do you deny that he brought a young girlon board this yacht against her will?"
The owner of the yacht laughed disdainfully.
"Deny it?" he exclaimed. "Of course I do!"
"Then you lie!" shouted a voice, as Dunbar Budthorne came leaping fromthe steamer to the yacht and rushed forward to confront the cool Turk."I saw her brought on board! This is the yacht! She is here! Search theboat!"
CHAPTER XXX--HIS JUST DESERTS
The Turk did not shrink before Budthorne. He remained unruffled as hesaid:
"Very well; search the boat, gentlemen. As I know two of you to beresponsible, you have my permission to look the yacht over from stem tostern."
"It's a bluff!" growled Buckhart.
But in his heart Dick was beginning to fear that neither Nadia nor Bunolwould be found on the yacht.
Budthorne was greatly wrought up, and he urged the others to come on.
The Turk spoke to his companion, who stepped aside and disappeared.
A moment later lights flashed up all over the yacht.
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The Turk stood smiling in the light of an electric lantern, his mannerindicating his confidence in the result of the impending search.
The lights showed two men forward, where they had been standing in theshadow of the pilot house.
They were the pilot and engineer. One was a Greek and the other anArmenian.
"Are these all of your crew?" demanded John Coddington.
"Yes, sir."
Now that the lights were on, Professor Gunn came crawling cautiouslyover the rail onto the deck of the yacht, to which the steamer had beenmade fast.
"Hum! ha!" he coughed. "I must see that nothing is neglected. Proceedwith the search, gentlemen."
Medjid Bey, the owner of the yacht, lighted a Turkish cigarette andpuffed away with indifference as the boarders began searching the yacht.
It did not take long to search the small, but elegant craft from one endto the other, and not a trace of Nadia or Bunol was found.
Budthorne was infuriated. He seemed almost deranged.
"What have they done with her?" he cried. "What have they done with mysister?"
Brad and Dick held a consultation in low tones.
"We're tricked, pard," said the Texan. "The Spanish snake and the dirtyTurk have fooled us. What can we do? They've carried Nadia off. I'm fortaking that Mohammedan varmint by the throat and squeezing the truth outof him."
"I'm afraid we can't get at the truth that way," said Dick. "It is a badpiece of business."
"Bad! Pard, if that Spaniard harms a hair of Nadia's head I'll skin himalive! You hear me warble! I'll kill him by inches!"
Dick walked toward the stern of the yacht, which had swung quite closeto the shore. Indeed, not more than twelve or fourteen feet of water laybetween that end of the yacht and the bank, showing that the water wasvery deep there.
Merriwell stood looking into the shadows of the palm grove, feelingdesperate and baffled. Suddenly in the gloom of the grove there was ared spout of fire.
The report of a pistol startled the peaceful night. Dick Merriwelldropped on the deck of the yacht. A roar of fury burst from the lips ofBrad Buckhart. With two great leaps he reached the rail of the yacht andperched on it. Then he uprose and flung himself forward in a spring forthe bank.
He cleared the space and landed on the shore. Recklessly he charged intothe palm grove, a pistol in his hand. The Texan believed his comrade hadbeen shot down in a dastardly manner, and his heart was filled with amad longing for vengeance.
He ran toward the spot where the flash of the weapon had been seen.Through a dim bit of moonlight ahead of him a figure seemed to flit.That glimpse was enough for the Texan. He flung up his hand and hispistol barked twice.
"Give me a fair look at ye, and I'll certain get ye!" he panted.
He came to some ruined steps of stone and stumbled down them, losing hisfooting and falling sprawling at the foot. But he was up in a moment,and again he fancied he caught a glimpse of a flitting form.
Crack! Once more he fired.
"Bet I nipped him then!" he snarled.
He continued the mad pursuit, little reckoning what might happen,thinking only that he might reach the person who had shot down hisfriend and wreak vengeance for the dastardly act.
Suddenly right ahead of him the red fire spouted and a singing bulletbrushed his ear. At the same moment Brad struck his foot against abroken column of marble which had been unearthed from the ruins and wentheadlong to the earth.
It must have seemed that he had been dropped by the bullet. At any rate,with a cry of satisfaction, a man leaped up and came at him.
Buckhart rose to his knees. He had dropped his revolver, else he couldhave shot the other. As it was, the man flung himself on the Texan,hurling him backward to the earth.
"I have you," snarled a voice, "and when I am done both my enemies willbe dead and out of the way!"
It was the voice of Bunol!
It was now a hand-to-hand struggle for life or death, amid the palmswhich grew above the buried city of Memphis. What little moonlightsifted through and fell upon the combatants simply served to make thedesperate struggle seem all the more terrible.
Although taken thus at a disadvantage, Buckhart was a fighter every inchof him, and he was not immediately overcome by the murderous Spaniard.
Bunol had flung his whole weight on the Texan, and Brad's head struckagainst a block of stone, causing him to see stars; yet the American ladclutched the wrist of his antagonist and held fast.
It was well he did so, for the Spaniard had drawn a knife, and this hewas trying hard to use.
Bunol cursed in Spanish. He twisted and squirmed, seeking to free hishand. He was astonished at the strength of Buckhart, for he believed theTexan had been brought down by a bullet and was sorely wounded.
"You die hard, American dog!" he panted; "but die you shall!"
"Not by your hand, you varmint!" retorted Brad.
"Oh, I'll kill you yet!"
The Texan was gathering his strength, and suddenly there was anupheaval, Bunol being unable to pin the husky chap to the ground.Snarling like a mad dog, the Spaniard writhed in an eellike effort toescape from the clutch that continued to render his knife hand helpless.
Powerful though he was, Buckhart felt his hold slipping. There wasperspiration on Bunol's wrist and on the Texan's fingers. The task ofmaintaining that grip grew more and more difficult.
Still Buckhart realized that it was possible his life depended on hissuccess in clinging to the fellow's wrist.
Suddenly Bunol snapped his hand free.
"Now," he snarled; "now I kill you!"
But, even as he struck, Buckhart sent him backward with a surge, and thekeen blade merely slashed the sleeve of the American lad.
Brad fancied he knew just where he had dropped his pistol, and hehastily felt round for the weapon.
"Let me get it," he growled, "and I'll make a sieve of that cur!"
He was given little time to search. Bunol recovered quickly. He saw theother feeling about on the ground. Crouching, he half rose and launchedhimself at Brad.
The boy from the Pan Handle country, however, was on the alert, and,with equal swiftness, he sprang aside.
The Spaniard missed his intended victim, but the knife in his fingersstruck fire from a stone, on which it was broken near the hilt.
A snarl of dismay escaped the lips of the murderous wretch.
Then Buckhart grappled with him again.
Brad did not know the knife was broken, so he made a grab at Miguel'swrist to prevent him from slashing.
"Whoop!" came from the lips of the Texan. "This sure is the real thingin the way of a scrimmage. It's a right long time since I've been in onelike this."
Bunol cursed bitterly. At last he realized that his antagonist could notbe seriously wounded. Although he did his best to break away, theAmerican lad hurled him down and held him.
One of Brad's hands found Miguel's throat.
"Got ye now!" he grated triumphantly. "Tell me where you have takenNadia! Speak quick, or you'll never have the chance to speak at all!"
"Go ahead!" gasped the helpless scoundrel. "Kill me! Kill me, and you'llnever set eyes on her again!"
"Where is she?"
"You can't force me to tell."
The fingers on the throat of the Spaniard tightened. Bunol's breathhissed in his throat and then stopped.
"I certain am not in a fooling mood," said Brad, "and it's up to you totalk plenty fast."
Bunol could not talk then, and he could do nothing but gasp when thecrushing hold was relaxed.
"I'll give you about twenty seconds to begin unloading your mind," saidBrad. "Time is flying a heap. Ten seconds gone! Fifteen seconds! Time'sup!"
The cry that Bunol started to utter was cut short by the pressure oncemore applied to his throat.
Then a figure came flitting through the shadows, dark as night andsilent as a phantom. It sped to the spot and was on Buckhart before theTexan realized that another was present.
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The boy was hurled aside. He had been attacked by a huge black man.
This fellow flung Buckhart from Bunol and pinned him to the ground, aknee on his breast.
Gaspingly the Spaniard rose.
"Hold him, Kahireh!" he gasped. "Don't let him get away! Where is yourknife? Let me have it quick!"
His hands fumbled in the girdle of the black man. A moment later heuttered a cry of satisfaction. A bit of moonlight that came through thepalms fell on the blade of a long knife that gleamed in the Spaniard'shands.
"Hold him still, Kahireh!" grated Miguel. "Now I will cut his throat!"
Never had Brad Buckhart been nearer death than at that moment, forMiguel Bunol really meant to make his words good. He intended to cut thethroat of the helpless boy, who was held for slaughter by the powerfulblack man.
But Brad's time had not come.
Out of the near-by shadows leaped still another figure. Bunol was bowledover with a kick. Then the heavy butt of a pistol fell on the head ofthe black man, who pitched forward across the Texan.
"Brad! Brad!" called a voice that was filled with anxiety; "are you allright?"
Then the strong hands of his dearest friend on earth pulled Buckhartfrom beneath the stunned giant.
"Pard," gasped the Texan, in joyous bewilderment, "is it you? Why, Icertain reckoned you were dead a heap! I saw the flash and saw you fallon the deck of the yacht."
"But I saw a moving shadow in the grove and dropped just in time toescape being shot in my tracks," said Dick. "Are you hurt?"
"None at all. But where is that varmint Bunol? Only for this othergaloot I'd choked the truth out of him or finished him. Where is he?There--there he goes!"
Bunol had taken flight, running as fast as possible through the grove.Instantly both lads were off in pursuit, determined not to let thescoundrel give them the slip.
"Shoot, pard!" urged Buckhart. "He may slip us if you don't!"
"And I may kill him if I do. I want to force him to tell where we mayfind Nadia."
"Better kill him than to let him get away," panted Brad. "If I had mygun----"
Crack! Dick fired.
There was a cry of pain ahead of them, and they saw the fleeing figurefall.
"Nailed him, Dick!" exulted Brad. "That's the ticket! That was the wayto stop him!"
In truth, Merriwell had brought the fleeing Spaniard down with a singleshot. In a moment they reached the fellow, who was lying on the ground,alternately cursing and groaning.
As they came up, Bunol lifted himself on his left elbow. His right handwent back. A shaft of moonlight gleamed on something in his hand.
The Texan uttered a warning cry.
Dick Merriwell dropped as if shot, and for the second time that night hedid so barely in time to escape death at the hand of his bitter enemy.
The huge knife Bunol had taken from the black man whistled through theair, barely missing Merriwell as he fell.
Then Buckhart pounced on the young scoundrel.
"You dog!" grated Brad. "I sure will cook you this trip!"
But Dick interfered a moment later, checking the fury of the boy fromthe Pan Handle country, and preventing him from injuring the Spaniardfurther.
"Go ahead!" whimpered Miguel, in a way that seemed quite unusual forhim. "You may as well finish the job! You have smashed my knee, and I'llbleed to death, anyhow!"
"I must have hit him in the leg," said Dick. "I fired low."
Buckhart struck a match and Dick made a hasty examination, questioningthe wounded rascal. He found that Bunol had been wounded in the knee andwas bleeding profusely. With his pocketknife Merriwell quickly cut awayMiguel's trousers and exposed the wound.
The Spaniard lifted the upper part of his body and looked at his bloodyknee. A groan escaped him, and then he began to sob. All the nerve hadbeen taken out of him.
Dick quickly cut a strip from the lower part of Bunol's trousers leg,twisted it like a rope, tied it round the fellow's leg above the knee,inserted his pistol barrel through the loop and began to twist, thustightening the manufactured cord until it began to cut into the fleshand checked the flow of blood.
In the meantime Brad had been questioning Bunol about Nadia, and thecowered wretch confessed that she was hidden close at hand in a portionof an excavated temple and still guarded by one of the two black men.
A distant call startled the boys. When the call was repeated theyrecognized it as coming from some of their friends, and they answeredit.
Soon Colonel Stringer, Coddington, the professor, and Budthorne camehastening through the palm grove. As they approached, they saw a mandodging away. They ordered him to stop, but this resulted in his fleeingstill more swiftly, and he quickly disappeared.
Then the colonel declared he heard a low cry, not far away. The Texanjoined them, declaring Bunol had confessed that Nadia was near by. Theybegan searching, and soon they came upon the mouth of an excavation, oneof many such, made by scientists in uncovering the ruins of old Memphis.
From the depths of this opening Nadia answered his call. In a reckless,headstrong manner, the Texan let himself down into the opening, releasedall holds and slid to the bottom.
"Here she is!" he shouted, in delighted satisfaction. "She's all right!Hooray! Whoop! Whoop-ee! Get a rope from the steamer and yank us out."
Medjid Bey gave an order to his engineer immediately after our friendsleft the yacht for the shore. The engineer hastened to get up steam.This was not such a difficult task, as the fires had been kept in acondition that would enable them to move with very little delay.
The Turk leaned on the rail of his yacht and listened to every soundthat came from the palm forest. Finally he spoke to the Greek, who hadlingered near his master's side.
"Cast off from that steamer," he said. "Do so quietly. Don't attractattention."
Thus it happened that the captain of the steamer was surprised somemoments later to discover that the yacht was floating clear of his boat.He sang out to Medjid Bey, but the Turk made no answer.
A sound of moving machinery and puffing steam came from the yacht. Theanchor was hoisted, the yacht swung round.
"It's no fight of mine," muttered the captain of the steamer, inSwedish. "Let him go. I've earned my money."
When our friends reappeared on the shore, accompanied by Nadia andbearing the wounded Spaniard, they discovered that the yacht was rapidlydisappearing into the silver mist, far down the placid Nile.
On the return trip to Cairo Nadia told how Bunol and Medjid Bey haddiscovered the approaching of the steamer long before it arrived in thevicinity of the yacht. The Spaniard was confident pursuers were coming.He wished to fight them from the yacht, but the Turk objected.
"Then put me ashore," said Bunol. "Give me the girl and those twoNubians to take care of her. If they board your yacht, light up and keepaway from them. I'm going to kill one of my enemies to-night. I'll firefrom the shore."
And so it happened that Nadia was dragged ashore and thrust into theexcavation, the black men being left to guard her. One of them left theother, seeking to render Bunol assistance in the encounter withBuckhart; but Dick appeared in the nick of time. Finally the other tookflight, and Nadia was found, exhausted and hysterical after her fearfulexperience, but otherwise unharmed.
When Cairo was finally reached Miguel Bunol was ghastly white and limpfrom the loss of blood and pain he had endured. Dick lost no time ingetting the fellow into a hospital.
In the morning Merriwell visited his enemy. He wore a very sober face onreturning to the Shepherd's Hotel.
"Is he dead?" asked Brad.
"No; but he may not recover. His right leg has been amputated above theknee."
"Well, I opine he's got what was his just due," said the Texan.
THE END.
BURT L. STANDISH
whose stories in book form appear exclusively in the NEW MEDAL LIBRARYhas not lived in vain. Even if he does not write another line, he hasaccomplished so much g
ood with his Merriwell stories that "Well done,thou good and faithful servant," may be truly said to him on account ofhis splendid work. In addition to the works of Mr. Standish, there arebooks by Horatio Alger, Jr., Oliver Optic and dozens of other popularwriters in the NEW MEDAL LIBRARY that make this line great, big value atFifteen Cents per Copy.
"The Right Books at the Right Price"
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STREET & SMITH, Publishers, NEW YORK
PUBLISHER'S NOTE
Notwithstanding the fact that the sales of magazines have increasedtremendously during the past five or six years, the popularity of a goodpaper-covered novel, printed in attractive and convenient form, remainsundiminished.
There are thousands of readers who do not care for magazines because thestories in them, as a rule, are short and just about the time theybecome interested in it, it ends and they are obliged to readjust theirthoughts to a set of entirely different characters.
The S. & S. novel is long and complete and enables the reader to spendmany hours of thorough enjoyment without doing any mental gymnastics.Our paper-covered books stand pre-eminent among up-to-date fiction.Every day sees a new copyrighted title added to the S. & S. lines, eachone making them stronger, better and more invincible.
STREET & SMITH, Publishers
79-89 SEVENTH AVENUE, NEW YORK CITY
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