ving them in a bundle on the ground, and, with the revolver
still grasped tightly in his hand, started to crawl noiselessly toward
the open flap of the tent, which he located by seeing the glimmer of
stars shining through. At the same time he took care to keep close to
the side of the tent walls, so as to avoid, if possible, colliding with
his supposed unknown visitor.

The odour was much more pungent now, and Frobisher knew that in a few
seconds he would recognise it for what it was. Surely, he thought,
there was a suggestion of oiliness about it, and--then in a moment he
knew. The strange perfume was that of sandalwood oil, and he instantly
realised what the circumstance meant. There was a human being in the
tent, somebody who had planned murder, or robbery, or both; and the man
had oiled himself so that, if his intended victim happened to be awake
and grappled with him, he would be able to twist himself loose and
escape.

Frobisher was by no means easily flurried, but when he realised that he
was alone in a dark tent with a desperate man seeking his life; that he
was possibly within arm's-reach of the fellow at that moment; and that
in another second he might feel a long, keen blade sliding in between
his ribs, it was only with difficulty that he restrained himself from
firing off all six chambers of his revolver into the darkness, in the
hope that one of the bullets might find its billet.

And then, at the very moment when he felt that his nerves would bear the
strain no longer, the spell was broken. Suddenly there came a long,
hissing breath close beside him, and immediately afterward a terrific
thud, as something--Frobisher could easily guess what--was driven with
deadly force into the heap of blankets close beside him.

With a tremendous bound the young Englishman leaped forward, dropping
his revolver as he did so, and grappled with the intruder; but the man
had been prepared for any mishap by oiling his body, and twisted and
squirmed like an eel. So slippery was his skin that Frobisher, with all
his tremendous strength, recognised that he could not hold him. He
therefore gripped the fellow's wrist as firmly as he could with his left
hand, and drew back his clenched right fist for a knock-out blow. But
before he could deliver it he received a fearful kick in the stomach
from one of the man's feet--which luckily were bare, or he would have
been killed--and he doubled up like a jack-knife, involuntarily