Monty. Everything about him now proclaimed the ungloved upper hand.

His party, finding no room to stall their horses, had begun to turn
ours loose, and there was uproar along the gipsy side of the room--no
action yet, but a threatening snarl that promised plenty of it.
Will was half on his feet to interfere, but Monty signed to him to
keep cool; and it was Monty's aggravatingly well-modulated voice
that laid the law down.

"Will you be good enough," be asked blandly, "to call off your men
from meddling with our mounts?" He could not be properly said to
drawl, because there was a positive subacid crispness in his voice
that not even a Prussian or a Turk on a dark night could have
over-looked.

The German laughed again.

"Perhaps you did not hear my name," he said. "I am Hans von Quedlinburg.
As over-contractor on the Baghdad railway I have the privilege of
prior accommodation at all road-houses in this province--for myself
and my attendants. And in addition there are with me certain Turkish
officers, whose rights I dare say you will not dispute."

Monty did not laugh, although Fred was chuckling in confident enjoyment
of the situation.

"You need a lesson in manners," said Monty.

"What do you mean?" demanded Hans von Quedlinburg.