"What else?"

"If you can, keep old Anazeh sober."

"Oh!"

Grim nodded meaningly: "I've known easier jobs!"

"The old sport thinks no more of me than of an express package
he'd been hired to deliver," I answered. "Drunk or sober, he'd
brush me aside like a fly."

"Well--wits were given us to use. I guess you'll have to use
yours. Have you any?"

"How the hell should I know?" I retorted.

"If you find I haven't any, don't blame me."

"I won't," he answered, and I believed him.

"What else besides being dry-nurse to the king of the
Amalekites?" I asked.

"Don't trust Ahmed."

"He's a good interpreter."

"Yeh--and a poor peg. You'll have to use him--some. But don't
trust him."