-the backbone," she gasped, unheard, into
her muffling coat. For the wind howled now like a rampaging demon;
it tore at them in hot anger; it dragged at the coat about her head,
and when her clutch resisted, it flung the sand over and over her
till she lay half buried and choking. And then, very slowly and
sulkily, it retreated, blowing fainter and fainter, but slipping
back for a last spiteful gust whenever she thought it finally gone,
but at last her head came out from its burrow, and she began
cautiously to wipe the sand crust off her face and lashes.

"In your eyes?" said a sympathetic voice.

In the darkness beside her Billy Hill was sitting up, digging at his
countenance.

"Not now--I've cried--that all gone," she panted back.

He chuckled. "I'll try it--swearing's no use."

She sat up suddenly. "Are they coming?"

"Not a bit. No use, if they did. You're safe now."

"Oh, my _soul_!" She drew a long, long breath. "I can't believe
it." Then she whirled about on him. "How--why--why is it _you_?"

He looked suddenly embarrassed, but the darkness hid it from her. He
became oddly intent on brushing his clothes. "Oh, I guessed," he
said in a casual tone.

"You guessed? Don't they know? What did they think? Oh, where did
everyone think I was?"

He told her, dwelling upon the misleading details; the hasty message
of farewell from the station, the directions about luggage, the
money to pay the hotel bill. "You see, his wits and luck were just
playing together," he said.

"Then the Evershams _are_ up the Nile?"

"Of course. They never dreamed----"

"They wouldn't." Arlee was silent. She wondered confusedly--she
wanted to ask a question--she wanted to ask two questions.

"But--but--no one else----?" she stammered.

There was a particularly large lump of sand in Billy B. Hill's
throat just then; he cleared it heavily. "Oh, yes, some one else
guessed, too," he said then. "That English friend of yours, Robert
Falconer, he and I had a regular old shooting party in the palace
last Sunday evening. If you'd been there then he would certainly
have had you out."

"So he knows." She said it a little faintly, Billy thought, as if
she was disappointed and troubled. She would know, of course, by
intuition, how the Englishman would think about a scrape of that
sort.

"But he doesn't know now," he said eagerly. "He is sure you are all
right in Alexandria, because the Evershams received another fake
telegram from you