“You must be dreaming, Brick,” said Kyle, after a fleeting glimpse of the men as they disappeared.

“Dreaming, nothing,” was the reply. “I caught a good sight of the face of one of them and I’m sure he was one of the would-be robbers. He had a scar on his left cheek that I noticed yesterday when he was struggling with me. I’m not so dead sure of the other one, but he’s probably the same companion that was with the scarred man before. They, likely enough, are pals.”

“What do you suppose they were doing around here?” asked Kyle. “Do you think they’re still after that watch of yours?”

“Maybe so,” replied Brick. “Perhaps they feel it’s hard to let it go when they so nearly had it. More likely, though, they just happened to be here at the same time we were.”

“Suppose we follow them and see where they hang out?” suggested Kyle. “Then we could give the tip to the police and have them arrested.”

“All right,” assented Brick. “They haven’t got much of a start on us.”

The boys raced to the place where the men had disappeared and saw them making off rapidly in the direction of the native quarter.

“I know a short cut that will bring us in ahead of them,” said Brick. “Then perhaps we can shadow them when they come along, see where they turn in, and perhaps find out who they are.”

The boys were soon in one of the narrow streets with which Brick had become familiar during his stay with Alam, and, peering cautiously around a corner, saw the men approaching.

The boys slipped into one of the bazaars and pretended to be examining goods with an eye to a purchase until the men had passed, and then they followed at a little distance, taking advantage of whatever cover offered until they saw their quarry disappear into a dark lane lined with shabby houses.

They hurried to the entrance of the lane just as the men were disappearing around the further corner. But when they reached that point all trace was lost.

Brick went in one direction and Kyle in another, and they hunted about until they became convinced that their search was fruitless.

“No use,” sighed Brick disappointedly. “We’ll have to let them go for the time. But we’ll keep our eyes open for any further tricks they may be trying to play on us.”

The boys went back to the compound and turned again to the cars, which had for them an inexhaustible fascination. Up to the present they had been engrossed with the machinery and the odd caterpillar traction feature. Now they noted that on the sides of the cars were brilliant paintings of various kinds of animals and insects. There were a gold beetle, a tortoise, the bull Apis and a crawling caterpillar, besides silver crescents and similar fanciful figures.

“Looks almost like a circus wagon,” declared Brick. “I wonder what all the decoration is for.”

“I don’t know,” confessed Kyle, “but I suppose it is decked out that way so as to strike the fancy of the natives. It will interest them so that our coming among them will make it something like a holiday for them, and it may make them kindly disposed toward us.”

“And look at these searchlights!” exclaimed Brick, pointing to especially powerful lights with brilliant reflectors. “They’re lallapaloozers.”

“They’re dandies, all right,” agreed Kyle. He turned one on and was almost startled by the intense beam that leaped forth. “With the help of those we could travel almost as well by night as by day.”

“That’s lucky,” said Brick. “A good deal of traveling will have to be done by night. I know we did when I went with my father—”

His voice trembled here, and he hastily checked himself. Kyle pretended not to notice, but his own heart ached in sympathy with that of his companion. Where was his own father? And his mother and sister? Had the ocean long since claimed them? Or were they perhaps dragging out a miserable existence on some island, doomed at last to perish there? His own eyes were moist, but he choked back his emotion as he saw that his uncles had concluded their talk with the man who had the cars in charge and were coming toward him.

“Well, Kyle,” was the captain’s cheery salutation, “I guess we can call it a go. We’ve made our bargain, and to-morrow the cars will be ours.”

“That’s great!” cried Kyle. “When can we start?”

“Hold your horses,” laughed the captain. “Or rather, since we’re talking of cars, put on the brakes. This isn’t a matter of simply climbing into the driver’s seat, starting the engine and letting in the clutch. We’ve got to make careful preparations, get in our supplies, engage our men, and do lots of other things before we roll out on the desert. Sure you’re not sorry we’re going?” he asked quizzically. “Getting cold feet or anything like that, now that the die is cast?”

“Not a bit of it,” declared Kyle stoutly. “I’d start to-day if we could.”

“Same here,” said Brick.

“I know you would,” replied the captain. “Trust you young fellows to need brakes rather than spurs. But come along now, for we’ve got to hurry back to the hotel and get busy. I want to be ready to start within a week at the very latest.”

With a last longing look at the cars, which they hated to leave, the boys followed their elders out of the compound.

“The first thing to do is to find Alam Bokaru,” said the captain, as they walked along. “I wish, Teddy, you’d see him as soon as you can and remind him that he promised to come and see me to-night.”

“Is Alam going with us?” asked Teddy with delight.

“He is if he will,” returned the captain. “He wasn’t very keen about it last night on account of that superstition of his, but I hope we can talk him over.”

“I hope so,” said Teddy. “He knows the desert like a book, and he’s got the best reputation of any man I know of in this town for honesty. You can depend on every word he says.”

“Isn’t that Alam now?” broke in Kyle pointing to an Arab with a camel in a stretch of sandy ground between the French Residency and the native quarter of the town.

“Sure enough,” agreed Teddy, as he looked in the direction indicated. “He’s training a camel. That’s his usual job when he isn’t acting as a guide. Did you ever see how a camel was trained for mounting?” he asked, turning to Kyle.

“No, but I’d like to,” was the reply. “Is it anything like Broncho busting?”

“Not so exciting as that,” admitted Teddy. “But it takes a lot of skill and patience, and Alam’s a dabster at it. Just watch him for a minute.”

They drew nearer and watched the performance with interest. The Arab was so engrossed in his task that he had not noticed their approach.

As the first step in the mounting process, Alam was endeavoring to make the camel squat upon the ground. The beast had his own views on that subject, however, and resolutely refused, rearing and pulling violently against the rope that was attached to his nostrils, while the other end was held in the hand of the trainer. For some minutes the struggle continued, and it seemed as though Alam’s arm would be wrenched from its socket. But those arm muscles were like tempered steel, and the man held on to the rope with a grip like that of death.

But strength was not the only requisite, or even the main one. All the time that the struggle persisted, Alam kept crooning to the beast in a chanting monotone, like a mother soothing a restless babe.

“What’s he doing that for?” Kyle asked.

“He’s sort of hypnotizing it, I guess,” explained Brick. “Something like an Indian serpent charmer when he chants to his snakes or plays some musical instrument. See, it’s beginning to work.”

The resistance of the camel was sensibly weakening, and gradually, with many grunts of enraged protest, his knees began to bend and he finally sank to the ground.

With lightning-like quickness, Alam threw on a saddle and adjusted the reins. Then he seized the reins in his right hand and placed that hand on the front of the saddle. At the same time, he seized the camel’s nostrils in his left hand and turned the brute’s head inward until the nose nearly reached the front of the saddle. Then the trainer rapidly threw his right leg over the saddle and placed his left foot on the camel’s neck. The beast leaped upward with a disconcerting jerk, and here it was that Alam’s mastery of the situation was put to the test.

With a quickness surprising in so clumsy a beast, the camel thrust his head and body backward and forward with tremendous violence, so that it seemed inevitable that the rider should be unseated and hurled to the ground.

But Alam countered by rapidly jerking his body in the inverse direction, timing every action like a flash so as to counteract each movement of the angry brute as soon as it was made. It was a superb exhibition of strategy and nerve, and the breathless spectators had all they could do to keep from applauding. They refrained, however, lest it should distract the rider’s attention from the difficult task he had on hand.

For perhaps ten minutes the fight continued, and then the camel gave in and acknowledged that he had met his master. Alam dismounted, gave the beast an amicable pat on the neck, and then for the first time noted the group of onlookers. He came toward them with a smile and a low bow.

“Good work, Alam Bokaru,” commended the professor, in the Arab’s native tongue. “It is not for naught that you are called the master of camels.”

A momentary light in the Arab’s eyes showed that he was pleased with the compliment, but his features retained their customary immobility.

“All skill in man is the gift of Allah,” was the noncommittal reply he vouchsafed.

“I am glad we met you,” remarked the captain. “We were just asking Teddy to look you up and remind you that you were to come to the hotel to-night. Perhaps you can go along with us now.”

“I will tether the camel and come,” Alam said.

He secured the animal, and then joined the party and accompanied them to the hotel.

“Now, Alam,” said the professor, when they had seated themselves in the suite occupied by them, “we’ve settled the matter that we were talking about last night. We’re going into the Sahara Desert, as far at least as the Hoggar Plateau.”

The Arab inclined his head.

“The white man does as he will,” he replied.

“But we want you to come along,” the professor continued, while Kyle and Brick eagerly watched Alam’s face to see how he received the proposition.

“To look upon the City of Brass is death,” intoned Alam.

“What a single track mind the man has,” muttered the captain to himself.

“Only if he sees it from the back of a camel,” said the professor patiently.

“So it is written,” agreed the master of camels.

“If you see it at all, it won’t be from a camel’s back,” asserted the professor.

“How else, in the desert?” asked Alam, in wonder.

“We’re not going to take any camels along,” was the reply. “We’re going with automobiles.”

For an instant the Arab was moved from his usual calm. It could plainly be seen that the thought was revolutionary. Perhaps it struck him as impious.

For a few moments, as he pondered the problem, there was silence. The automobile was not a new thing to him, for the French officers had several of them for their work in the town and vicinity. He knew something of their speed and power. He had learned something also of the indomitable energy and determination of the Feringhees, these foreigners who so often did what they set out to do, no matter what obstacles stood in the way.

“Why then do you want Alam Bokaru?” he asked, after a brief space. “He cannot drive a car. He is a master of camels.”

“He’s weakening,” whispered Brick, giving Kyle a jubilant nudge in the ribs.

“We want you,” replied the professor, “because you know the desert better than any man in Tuggurt. We want you because we believe you to be honest, courageous and straightforward. We want you because we believe that with you we have the best chance to discover and rescue Mr. Allison. You are fond of Teddy. You saved his life. Now help him to get back his father.”

“Amos has struck the right chord,” muttered the captain to himself, as he watched the Arab narrowly.

That a conflict was going on in Alam’s mind was apparent. On the one hand was his ingrained dread and suspicion of anything new, anything that deviated from the beaten track that his ancestors had trodden for generations. On the other was his real affection for the boy he had rescued and the chance that he might give that boy something that he would regard as priceless. Perhaps, too, there was a certain fascination in the new and untried adventure that appealed to this courageous man of the desert accustomed, as he was, to taking chances.

At last he reached a decision. He bowed to the floor three times in the direction of the east, as though committing his affairs into the hands of Allah. Then he rose to his feet and drew his robes about him with a certain instinctive grace and dignity.

“I will go,” he said.

[Chapter 07 Maze: Help Kyle Escape]