the Near East than any ten men of any other nationality.]

"Then I think I'll go to El-Kerak."

Again his eyes grew speculative. I could not tell whether he was
considering me or some problem of his own.

"Speaking unofficially," he said, "there are two possibilities.
You might go without permission--easy enough, provided you don't
talk beforehand. In that case, you'd get there and back; after
which, the Administration would label and index you. The
remainder of your stay in Palestine would be about as exciting
as pushing a perambulator in Prospect Park, Brooklyn. You'd
be canned."

"I'd rather be killed. What's the alternative?"

"Get permission. I shall be at El-Kerak myself within the next
few days. I think it can be arranged."

"D'you mean I can go with you?" I asked, as eager as a schoolboy
for the circus.

"Not on your life! I don't go as an American."

Recalling the first time I had seen him, I sat still and tried to
look like a person who was not thrilled in the least by seeing
secrets from the inside.

"Well," I said, "I'm in your hands."