h another. Next thing I knew we're out in a little
back yard, half full of empty cases and crates. In the middle of a clear
space is a big brown tent, with the flap pinned back.

"Here," says the old gent, "your friend, the Sareef Ka-heel!"

Say, for a minute I thought it was a trap he's springin' on me; but after
I'd looked long enough I see who he's pointin' at. The party inside is
squattin' cross-legged on a rug, holdin' the business end of one of these
water bottle pipes in his mouth. He's wearin' some kind of a long bath
robe, and most of his red hair is concealed by yards of white cloth
twisted round his head; but it's Spotty all right, alive, uncarved, and
lookin' happy and contented.

"Well, for the love of soup!" says I. "What is it, a masquerade?"

"That you, McCabe?" says he. "Come in and--and sit on the floor."

"Say," says I, steppin' inside, "this ain't the costume you're going to
start for Canada in, is it?"

"Ah, forget Canada!" says he. "I've got that proposition beat a mile.
Hey, Hazzam," and he calls to the old pirate outside, "tell Mrs. Cahill
to come down and be introduced!"

"What's that?" says I. "You--you ain't been gettin' married, have you?"

"Yep," says Spotty, grinnin' foolish. "Nine o'clock last night. We're
goin' to start on our weddin' trip Tuesday, me and Mareena."

"Mareena!" I gasps. "Not the--the one we saw out front? Where you going,
Niagara?"

"Nah! Syria, wherever that is," says he. "Mareena knows. We're goin' to
live over there and buy rugs. That two hundred was just what we needed to
set us up in business."

"Think you'll like it?" says I.

"Sure!" says he. "She says it's fine. There's deserts over there, and you
travel for days and days, ridin' on bloomin' camels. Here's the tent
we're goin' to live in. I'm practisin' up. Gee! but this pipe is
somethin' fierce, though! Oh, here she is! Say, Mareena, this is Mr.
McCabe, that I was tellin' you about."

Well, honest, I wouldn't have known her for the same girl. She's changed
that Grand-st. uniform for a native outfit, and while it's a little gaudy
in color, hanged if it ain't becomin'! For a desert bride I should say
she had some class.

"Well," says I, "so you and Spotty are goin' to leave us, eh?"

"Ah, yes!" says she, them big black eyes of hers lightin' up. "We go
where the sky is high and blue and the sun is big and hot. We go back to
the wide white desert where I was born. All day we shall ride toward the
pur