With a slight, vexed laugh, as one despairing of understanding, the
pasha turned to McLean. "Your young friend, monsieur, is uninformed
that Turkish children have many names.... After the loss of the
elder we called the little one by the same name.... I trust I have
made everything perfectly clear to you?"

"As crystal," said McLean politely.

* * * * *

"As lightning," said Jack Ryder hotly, striding down the street. "It
was a flash of invention, that yarn. When I spoke about the
questions raised by his marriage the old fox sniffed the wind and
was afraid of trouble--he decided on the instant that no future
fortune was worth interference with his plans, and he cut the ground
from under our feet.... Lord, what a lie!"

"Masterly, you must admit."

"Oh, I admired the beggar, even while I choked on it. But
fever--desert burial--two Aimées! And the sentimental face he
pulled--he ought to have had a spot-light and wailing woodwinds."

McLean chuckled.

"I'll believe anything of him now," Ryder rushed on. "I'll bet he
murdered Delcassé and kidnapped the mother--and now he is selling
their daughter--"

"I fancy murder's a bit beyond our Tewfick. That's too thick. He's