Adventure, February 20, 1922 — page 50: what you’re looking at

Machine-transcribed from the original scan — historical spelling and the odd misread are preserved.

Z 48 be too sleepy afterward to care for any- thing but bed. Dawn may see the Sikhs on the road. Bring the Sheikh here when you’re good and ready—any time before dark will do.- But for the love of Mike, _Crep, don’t tell him who I am—yet!”’ “Your name means something in this place.” “Maybe. But if he learns in advance that I’ve been in his mosque in disguise with a Jew and another American he'll get rabies! Afterward it won’t matter; we'll have the goods on him afterward! You keep up the fake about my being a mes- senger from Seyyed Omar of El-Kudz,-or _ we'll have the whole nest of wasps about our ears yet!” So de Crespigny rode horseback into the. city, acting on the well-established principle that however clumsy and inconvenient the horse might be in narrow streets, the man on his back looks like personified authority ‘and commands more respect from the crowd than a man on foot. That is particularly true in the case of Arabs, who think more of a man on a pore than in a motor-car. No mechanical ap- -pliance less than a machine gun makes much impression on their minds; the gun means power; the horse means dignity; most other modern trappings either excite cupidity or else contempt. Grim curled up like a dog and slept on the window-seat as soon as de Crespigny had gone—unconscious almost the moment that he closed his eyes. That trick of sleeping like an animal whenever you so choose is only a forgotten gift; most men can pick it up again, like the sense of smell, that. be- longs to men as much as to the beasts and is far more valuable, really, than sight or hearing, A deaf and blind man can still smell his way along, and know more of his sur- roundings than the ordinary man with eyes and ears intact, who hardly uses them. And as for that trick of sleep, it makes you independent of the clock and furlongs in the race ahead of others, who have to go to bed at stated intervals. It is one of the great good things that. living 1 in towns has stolen from us. But Grim was not destined to sleep long. _ At the end of about an hour Jones came in ' looking worried and sat down to write a letter to his girl in England. That was hardly a good symptom. Grim came out Adventure ma of his sleep one eye at a time, the way a dog does exactly, without apparent cause, and lay still for about two minutes watching Jones’ back. ~“What’s wrong, suddenly. — “Oh, you awake? We've a chance left— one! You couldn’t get much for it!” ‘“‘What’s happened?” “News from Jerusalem. A couple of men got through on foot with word that the Moslems there have been pretty thor- oughly suppressed. They say the adminis- trator has taken the part of the Jews and the Jews are crowing about it. So they cornered Crep in the city and demanded permission to march on Jerusalem and help their coreligionists. He refused, of course; and they don’t want to miss tonight’s show—they’ll wait for that. We’d better spin it out, because as soon as it’s over they’re going to put us out of business and cut loose!” “But hasn’t Crep got a pledge from the head-men?”’ They | Jonesy?” he asked “Sure. They'll stand by that. say that if the Jews of this place bring back the fire-gift tonight as promised they’ll spare them. But they haven’t made any promise to spare us and they’re going to blot out the Jerusalem Jews whether we like it or not. They won’t believe there are no rifles in the Governorate, so they’re coming here first— soon as the show’s over!” ‘““What’s Crep doing now?” . “Arresting a few of the noisiest ones. I brought along half a dozen and left them in the jail. I’m going back there now to stand by and stiffen the jail-guard. So long, in case my number’s up!” He went out again, examining his revol- ver and Grim got off the window-seat to pace the floor a time or two. : “Maybe I’d better send you,” he said. “Tt’s thirty miles. D’you think you could reach Jerusalem on foot by midnight?” | “‘What’s the matter with a camel?” . “You’d be held up. You're all right until the camel hits a good sharp clip; after that they’d spot you for a white man from a mile away. You'll have to walk in that disguise, and take your chance with the sentries outside Jerusalem.” “Ask for Sikhs, I suppose?” “Yes. Sorry tohavetodoit. ’Fraid we must. I’d hoped to help these boys pull through without squealing. Do ’em both Gomiuck Heo ‘ok