"I'd like to keep you out of jail, if that's possible," Grim answered.
"You and I are old acquaintances, Sidi bin Tagim. But of course, if
you're here to sow sedition, and should there be a document at large in
proof of it, which document should fall into the hands of the police--
well, I couldn't do much for you then. You'd better tell me who stabbed
you, and I'll get after him."

"Ah! But if you get the letter?"

"I shall read it, of course."

"But to whom will you show it?"

"Perhaps to my friends here."

"Are they bound by your honour?"

"I shall hold them so."

There was the glint in Grim's eye now that should warn anyone who knew
him that the scent was hot; added to the fact that the rest of his
expression suggested waning interest, that look of his forebode fine
hunting.

"There's one other I might consult," he admitted casually. "On my way
here I saw one of Feisul's staff captains driving in a cab toward the
Jaffa Gate."

The instant effect of that remark was to throw the wounded man into a
paroxysm of mingled rage and fear. He almost threw a fit. His already