,
my Aunt!" he gasped hysterically. "My Aunt Clarissa--is _that_ what
Hamdi says!"

He sobered instantly and leaned towards McLean. "That looks as if
he's done with her--what? Saving his face that way? You're sure it
was Aimee--the girl he had just married? Not some other girl--some
co-wife or something?"

And as McLean bewilderedly muttered that he was sure, Ryder began to
laugh again. To laugh jubilantly, joyously, triumphantly.

"He's given her up--he's got a saving explanation to thrust in the
world's face! Oh, blessed Allah, Veiler of all that should be
veiled! The man's through. He's had enough. He isn't going to try
to--"

Across the bright oblong of the entrance a shadow appeared.

"Ryder--I say, Ryder," said a hurried voice--Thatcher's voice--and
Thatcher came hastily forward in perturbed urgency.

"There's a lot of men outside--police and natives and what not. With
warrants. They're searching the place. And they want to see you....
Hang it all, Ryder," said Thatcher explosively but apologetically,
"they say you've made off with some sheik's daughter."

He paused, shocked at the monstrosity of the accusation. He was a
delicate-minded man--outside of his knowledge of antiquities--and he
evidently expected his young associate to fall upon him and slay him
for the slander.

"A sheik's daughter--?" said Ryder in a mildly wondering voice. From
his emphasis one might have inferred he was saying, "How odd! I
don't remember any sheik's daughter--"

A queer uncomfortable flush spread fanways from Thatcher's thin
temples and rayed across his high cheekbones. He did not look at
either of the men as he murmured, "It's most peculiar, but that Arab
horse--the sheik claims the horse is his, too. He says you rode off
on it, with his daughter."

"That's all right," said Ryder absently. "I don't want the horse....
But you say the sheik's there? What does he look like? Thin--with
blond mustaches?"

"Oh, no, no, not at all. He is quite heavy and bearded--one-eyed, if
I recollect. But there _is_ a man with a blond mustache who appears
to do the directing--"

"And you mean they are searching?" said Ryder abruptly. "You've let
them in--?"

"They have warrants," Thatcher protested. "And there are proper
policemen conducting the search--"

"My good God! Where are they now? Not coming _here_? I don't have
any policemen trampling here and meddling with my finds--tell them
to clear out, Thatcher, you know there's no s