handsome, perpetually youthful fellows, whose heads have been a wee mite
turned by the sunshine of the world's warm smile. I don't mean by that
that he isn't a tophole man, or a thorough-going friend with guts and
gumption, who would chance his neck for anyone he likes without a
second's hesitation, for he's every bit of that. He has horse sense,
too, and isn't fooled by the sort of flattery that women lavish on men
who have laughing eyes and a little dark moustache.

But he hasn't been yet in a predicament that he couldn't laugh or fight
his way out of; he has never yet found a job that he cared to stick at
for more than a year or two, and seldom one that could hold him for six
months.

He jumps from one thing to another, finding all the world so interesting
and amusing, and most folk so ready to make friends with him, that he
always feels sure of landing softly somewhere over the horizon.

So by the time we reached Jerusalem friend Jeremy was ripe for almost
anything except the plan we had agreed on. Having talked that over
pretty steadily most of the way from Abu Kem, it seemed already about as
stale and unattractive to him as some of his oldest tricks. And
Jerusalem provided plenty of distraction. We hadn't been in Grim's
quarters half an hour when Jeremy was up to his ears in a dispute that
looked like separating us.

Grim, who wears his Arab clothes from preference and never gets into
uniform if he can help it, went straight to the telephone to report
briefly to headquarters. I took Jeremy upstairs to discard my Indian
disguise and hunt out clothes for Jeremy that would fit him, but found
none, I being nearly as heavy as Grim and Jeremy together. He had