thing Goodenough did after Grim had sent Narayan Singh
off on his deadly mission was to summon the sheikh of the Dome of
the Rock. He himself went to fetch him rather than risk having
the sheikh bring a crowd of witnesses, who would be sure to talk
afterwards. The all-important thing was to conceal the fact that
sacrilege had been committed. But it was also necessary to
establish the fact that Zionists had had no hand in it.

"You see," Grim explained, sitting on the edge of the stone
coffin, "we could hold Jerusalem. But if word of this business
were to spread far and wide, you couldn't hold two or three
hundred million fanatics; and believe me, they'd cut loose!"

"The sheikh must realize that," said I. "What do you bet me
he won't try to black-mail the Administration on the strength
of it?"

"I'll bet you my job! Watch the old bird. Listen in. He's
downy. He knows a chance when he sees it, and he might try
to cheat you at dominoes. But in a big crisis he's a number
one man."

While we waited we tried to get an opinion out of Scharnhoff
about the coffin and the skeleton inside it. But the old fellow
was heart-broken. I think he told the truth when he said he
couldn't explain it.

"What is there to say of it, except that it is very ancient?
There is no decoration. The coffin is beautifully shaped out of
one solid piece of stone, but that is all. The skeleton is that
of an old man, who seems to have been wounded once or twice in
battle. The linen is good, but there is no jewelry; no
ornaments. And it is buried here in a very sacred place, so
probably, it is one of the Jewish kings, or else one of the
prophets. It might be King David--who knows? And what do I
care? It is what a man sets down on parchment, and not his bones
that interest me!"

The sheikh arrived at last, following Goodenough down the dark
passage with the supreme nonchalance of the priest too long
familiar with sacred places to be thrilled or frightened by them.
He stood in the entrance gazing about him, blinking speculatively
through the folds of fat surrounding his bright eyes. Goodenough
took the lantern and held it close to the prisoners' faces one
by one.

"You see?" he said. "All Syrians. All Moslems. Not a Jew among
them. I'll take you and show you the others presently."

"What will you do with them?"

"That's for a court to decide. Hang them, most likely. They
were plotting murder."

"They will talk at