got on--somebody about my height."

"Turner will do that. What are you going to put in the bags?"
asked Goodenough.

"Cartridges. They're heavy. You might tell Turner over the
phone to bring them with him."

At that point Suliman returned, sooner than expected, with news
that made Grim whistle. Suliman had not been inside the place
where his mother was. She would not let him. But he had seen
around her skirts as she stood in the partly opened door.

"There was a hole in the floor," said Suliman, "and a great stone
laid beside it. Also much gray dust. And I think there was a
light a long way down in the hole."

But that was not what made Grim whistle.

"What else? Did your mother say anything?"

"She was ill-tempered."

"That Scharnhoff had beaten her."

"I knew he'd make a bad break sooner or later. What did he beat
her for?"

"Because she was afraid."

"That's a fine reason. Afraid of what?"

"He says she is to sell oranges. Four wooden benches have been
brought, and tomorrow they are to be set outside the door in the
street. Oranges and raisins have been bought, and she is to sit
outside the door and sell them. She is afraid."

"Fruit bought already? Can't be. Was it inside there?"

"No. It is to come tomorrow. She says she does not know how to
sell fruit, and is afraid of the police."

Grim and Goodenough exchanged glances.

"She says that if the police come everybody will be killed, and
that I am to keep watch in the street in the morning and give
warning of the police."

"That should teach you, young man, never to take a woman into
your confidence--eh, Mrs. Davey?" said Goodenough.

"We're certainly the slow-witted sex," she answered, piling the
finished bags one on top of the other on the table.

Grim took me after that to the hotel roof, whence you can see the
whole of Jerusalem. It was just before moonrise. The ancient
city lay in shadow, with the Dome of the Rock looming above it,
mysterious and silent. Down below us in the street, where a
gasoline light threw a greenish-white glare, three Arabs in
native costume were squatting with their backs against the low
wall facing the hotel.

"Noureddin Ali's men," said Grim, chuckling. "They'll help us to
prove our alibi. The enemy is nearly always useful if you leave
him free to make mistakes. You may have to spend the whole night
in the mosque--you and Suliman. I'll take you there presently.
Two of those men are