st Ali Higg, who calls himself the Lion of Petra.
Sheikh Ali Higg has amassed a heap of plunder--hundreds of
camels--merchandise taken from the caravans; that should be ours
for the lifting. That is honest. That is reasonable."

"Not a bit of it!" said Grim. "Let's get that clear before we
start. I know your game. You've got it all fixed up between
yourselves to stick with me until Ali Higg is _mafish_* and
then bolt for the skyline with the plunder. Not a bit of
use arguing--I know. You shouldn't talk your plans over in
coffee-shop corners if you don't want me to hear of them."

---------
* Lit., nothing--corresponds to "na-poo" in Army slang.
---------

"Jimgrim, you are the devil!"

"Maybe. But let's understand each other. Your property in Hebron
is all listed. We'll call that a pledge for good behavior. You
and your men are going to have government rifles served out to
you that you'll have to account for afterward. Every rifle
missing when we get back, and every scrap of loot you lay your
hands on, will be charged double against your Hebron property. On
the other hand, if any camels die you shall be reimbursed. Is
that clear?"

"Clear? A camel in the dark could understand it! But listen, Jimgrim."

The venerable sire of rogues went and sat crosslegged on the
window-seat, evidently meaning to debate the point. If an Arab
loves one thing more than a standing argument it is that same
thing sitting down.

"We go against Ali Higg. That is no light matter. He will send
his men against us, and that is no light matter either. They are
heretics without hope of paradise and bent on seeing hell before
their time! Surely they will come to loot our camp in the dark.
Shall we not defend ourselves?"

But Grim was not disposed to stumble into any traps.

"Does a loaded camel on the level trouble about hills?" he asked.

But Ali Baba waved the question aside as irrelevant.

"They come. We defend ourselves. One, or maybe two, or even more
of Ali Higg's scoundrels are slain. Behold a blood-feud! Jimgrim
and his friends depart for El-Kudz* or elsewhere; Ali Baba and
his sons have a feud on their hands. [* Jerusalem]

"Now a feud, Jimgrim, has its price! It would do my old heart
good to see the blood of Ali Higg and his heretics, for it is
written that we should smite the heretic and spare not. But we
should also despoil him of his goods, or the Prophet will not be
pleased with us!"

"That is the talk of a rooster on