ence, are we to accept as samples two dozen left-hand gloves?
This merchant brought two dozen right-hand gloves last week."

Then the merchant and the official began to wrangle. For some minutes
Callard in vain tried to get a word in edgeways; then at last the
Councillor, pushing back his fez with an air of weary patience, turned
to the newcomers and asked their business. A few words sufficed; the
Councillor rang a bell on the table, and when his secretary appeared,
ordered him to make out a _laissez-passer_ for Lieutenant Smith for
all the Custom Houses of the Empire. This done, he turned once more to
listen to the interminable dispute about the left-hand gloves.

"We are doing well," said Callard, as the two left the Custom House.
"There's still nearly an hour to spare. Now for the petrol."

They drove across the Galata bridge to the district of Kourshounlou
Han, and found that Benzonana had had the petrol ready at early
morning, and, what was more, had it at that moment in a conveyance for
transport. Johnson asked him if he had received any addresses from
London, and the man handed him a folded paper. Then, asking him to
send the petrol and some machine oil at once to the Ok Meidan, the two
Englishmen reentered their carriage, dashed up the Maltese Street,
past the Bank and the Economic Stores, up the Municipality Hill, and
again down by a short cut to the Admiralty. It was an hour and a half
since Johnson had set forth on his errand.

They found Smith and Rodier talking to the second golfer, boiling
coffee in a little portable stove, and eating a kind of shortbread
they had purchased of one of the simitdjis or itinerant vendors of
that article who had been doing a roaring trade with the children, and
even the elders, among the sightseers.

"Don't taste bad, spread with Bovril," said Smith, as Johnson and
Callard alighted from their carriage.

The crowd had grown to immense proportions. Smith said they had been
clamouring ever since Johnson had been gone, and he would rather like
to know what they said.

"Probably discussing whether the Commander of the Faithful won't order
you to be flung into the Bosphorus," said Callard.

The soldiers were still on guard round the aeroplane. Johnson
approached the captain and showed him the Minister of War's order.
Almost at the same moment an aide-de-camp came galloping up from the
Minister himself to assure the officer that all was right.

"But don't go yet, captain,"