told me, there is no reason why you and I should not ride north
together and divide the ransom of the white woman and the contents
of the pouch you wear about your person. Eh?"

The evil eyes narrowed, a vicious, thin-lipped smile tortured the
villainous face, as Mohammed Beyd grinned knowingly into the face
of the Belgian.

Werper was both relieved and disturbed by the Arab's attitude. The
complacency with which he accepted the death of his chief lifted
a considerable burden of apprehension from the shoulders of Achmet
Zek's assassin; but his demand for a share of the jewels boded ill
for Werper when Mohammed Beyd should have learned that the precious
stones were no longer in the Belgian's possession.

To acknowledge that he had lost the jewels might be to arouse the
wrath or suspicion of the Arab to such an extent as would jeopardize
his new-found chances of escape. His one hope seemed, then, to lie
in fostering Mohammed Beyd's belief that the jewels were still in
his possession, and depend upon the accidents of the future to open
an avenue of escape.

Could he contrive to tent with the Arab upon the march north, he
might find opportunity in plenty to remove this menace to his life
and liberty--it was worth trying, and, further, there seemed no
other way out of his difficulty.

"Yes," he said, "Achmet Zek is dead. He fell in battle with
a company of Abyssinian cavalry that held me captive. During the
fighting I escaped; but I doubt if any of Achmet Zek's men live,