ell them any story you like at Sheleilieh. Otherwise I am sure we
can make a satisfactory arrangement." He put his hand suggestively into
his pocket.

Gaston considered it between sips. It really was not much to do for this
uncle of America who had been so amiable. And others had suddenly become
so much less amiable than their wont. Moreover that Bakhtiari--he might
repent when he heard the motor again. At any rate one could say that one
had waited for him. And the Brazilian would no doubt show a gratitude so
handsome that one could afford to be a little independent. If those on
the steamer asked any questions when the motor-boat passed, surely the
Brazilian, who was more of a seigneur than any employee of an oil
company, would know how to answer.

"_Allons!_ Why not?" he said aloud.

"Bravo!" cried the Brazilian, withdrawing his hand from his pocket.
"Take that as part of my ticket. And excuse me a moment while I make
arrangements."

He disappeared through the reed portiere, leaving Gaston to admire five
shining napoleons. It gave him an odd sensation to see, after so long,
those coins of his country. When Magin finally came back, it was through
the inner door.

"Tell me: how much can you carry?" he asked. "I have four boxes I would
like to take with me, besides a few small things. These fools might
wreck themselves at Ahwaz and lose everything in the river. It would
annoy me very much--after all the trouble I have had to collect my
objects of virtue! Besides, the tub will get through more easily without
them. Come in and see."

"_Mon Dieu_!" exclaimed Gaston, scratching his head, when he saw. "My
boat won't get through more easily with them, especially at night." He
looked curiously around the cozy stateroom.

"But it will take them, eh? If necessary, we can land them at Ahwaz and
have them carried around the rapids."

The thing took some manoeuvering; but the Lurs, with the help of much
fluent profanity from the master, finally accomplished it without
sinking the motor-boat. Gaston, sitting at the wheel to guard his
precious engine against some clumsiness of the black-hatted
mountaineers, looked on with humorous astonishment at this turn of
affairs. He was destined, it appeared, to be disappointed in his hope of
cheer. That cognac was really very good--if only one had had more of it.
Still, one at least had company now; and he was not the man to be
insensible to the fine champagne of the unexpected. Nor was