And that you, howadji, are to receive even as we; save only that _your_
wage is to be enswollen to three times over than what it is now. And say
to him, howadji, that unless he does our wish in this striking we shall
slay all others whom he may behire in our place and that we shall
dynamitely destroy that nice mine. Remind him, howadji--if perchancely
he does not know of such things--that the law is with us. Say,
moreoverly, that there be many importanceful shipments and contracts
just now. And say he will lose all if he be so bony of head as to refuse
us. Furthermore, howadji, tell him, I prythee you, that we--"

A veritable yell from Kirby broke in on the smug instructions. The
American had recovered enough of his breath to expend a lungful of it in
one profane bellow. In a flash he visualized the whole scene at the
fellaheens' quarters--Najib's crazy explanation of the strike system and
of the supposed immunity from punishment that would follow sabotage and
other violence; the fellaheens' duller brains gradually seizing on the
idea until it had become as much a part of their mucilaginous mentality
as the Koran itself; and Najib's friendly desire that Kirby might share
in the golden benefits of the new scheme.

Yes, the American grasped the whole thing at once; his knowledge of the
East foretelling to him its boundless possibilities for mischief and for
the ruin of the mine's new prosperity. He fairly strangled with the gust
of wrath and impotent amaze which gripped him.

Najib smiled up at him as might a dog that had just performed some
pretty new trick, or a child who has brought to its father a gift. But
the aspect of Kirby's distorted face there in the dying firelight
shocked the Syrian into a grunt of terror. Scrambling to his feet, he
sputtered quaveringly.