with a long blade sharpened on both edges, but no pistol.

"Now are you satisfied?" he demanded, after turning inside-out the two
"secret" pockets in the lining of his vest.

"Less than ever!" Jeremy retorted. "Until I see you naked I will not
believe you!"

Yussuf Dakmar turned to me again. He was a patient spy, if ever there
was one.

"Do you think I should be put to that indignity?" he asked. "Shall I
undress myself?"

"By Allah, unless you do it I will cut your clothes off with my razor!"
Jeremy announced.

We drew up at a station then, and had to wait until the train went on
again. By that time Yussuf Dakmar had made up his mind. He slipped off
his jacket and vest and began to unfasten his collar-button as the train
gained speed.

Everything went smoothly until he stood up to remove his pants. He had
the top of them in both hands when Jeremy seized him suddenly by the
elbows and spun him face about. And there the letter lay, face downward
on the seat he had just left, bent and a little crinkled in proof that
he had been sitting on it for some minutes past.

Now it doesn't make any difference whether a man meant to take off his
trousers or not. In a crisis, if they are unfastened, he will hold them