Dick Merriwell's Pranks Part 46

"What's that?" gasped Buckhart, in the greatest amazement. "Did you hear it, pard? Did he say you were wanted?"

"That's what he said," nodded d.i.c.k.

Professor Gunn began to shake and choke.

"Richard, oh, Richard!" he exclaimed huskily. "These wild men have been sent to search the desert for you and take you back to Damascus! You are lost!"

"Great grizzlies!" burst from the Texan. "Is it possible that can be correct?"

"It may be," said d.i.c.k quietly.

"Well, don't you surrender!" panted the Texan. "I'll back you up, pard.

We'll die with our boots on, fighting to the last ditch! We're both armed."

"Alone, the two of us would stand no show against those warriors of the desert," said d.i.c.k. "However, let's not borrow trouble. Let's find out if there really is any trouble coming."

Saying which, he boldly walked out.

The Bedouin chief gazed in silence at the advancing boy, while the Syrian merchant hastened to say:

"Here is the lad for whom thou hast called, Ali Beha. Take him and do thy will."

Brad had followed d.i.c.k, while the old professor timidly brought up the rear.

The men of the train watched in anxious silence.

Buckhart heard the words of the Syrians, and immediately he plunged a hand into a pocket where his revolver lay.

"There you have it, d.i.c.k!" he half snarled. "Now you know what's coming!

Ready for business!"

Merriwell made a calm, restraining gesture.

"Steady, old man," he flung over his shoulder. "Let's talk to Ali Beha and find out what he's going to do. That is the best plan. Then possibly we'll raise an objection. Better not be too hasty."

Experience and the example of his brother Frank had taught d.i.c.k to keep his head in times of peril.

As usual, Buckhart was ready to fight. For all of the apparent peril, he was undaunted. Beyond question, he was rash and reckless; but to his credit it must be said that he was ready to surrender his life in defense of his rights and his friend.

There was not one drop of cowardly blood in Brad's body. If, on account of his a.s.sumed bl.u.s.ter and swagger, any one took him for a chap who would show the white feather in a pinch, that person was certain to be surprised and quite upset.

At school a few of the boys had fancied the Texan to be a bluffer, but when they had attempted to "call him," he had given them, one and all, a setback by "making good." Physical injury in a fist fight had never daunted him, and now, in the face of possible death, he was just as nervy and indifferent to the result.

Once on a time d.i.c.k Merriwell had been impulsive, reckless and thoughtless, but he had learned to govern himself and to consider the consequences of any act. This had changed him greatly. Not that he had lost a whit of courage, but courage is not mere reckless thoughtlessness. The really brave man is the one who considers the consequences, realizes the full extent of the peril, and then calmly faces it.

It is possible that a.s.sociation with Brad, whom he often found it necessary to restrain, had tended to make d.i.c.k more conservative and careful, for he realized that two reckless persons who spur each other on are certain to commit many follies.

So Merriwell warned his chum against haste and then turned to the chief of the Bedouins to talk the matter over.

"You have called for me," he said. "I am here. What do you want?"

Ali Beha was still surveying the calm, clear-eyed American lad with deep interest. He took his time about answering d.i.c.k's question.

"Thou art very young," he finally observed.

"Which is not an answer to my question," retorted d.i.c.k.

"Thou art a mere boy."

The Bedouin seemed disappointed.

"Acknowledged," nodded d.i.c.k. "What does Ali Beha want of a mere boy and a stranger in this land?"

"Thou hast friends near?"

"Two of them are with me."

"But there are others?"

"Possibly."

"They a.s.sisted thee in leaving Damascus?"

"Yes."

"But they are not with thee now?"

"Do you come from them?" asked d.i.c.k quickly.

"It is even so," declared the chief. "Thy friend sent me."

"You mean-- Name him!"

"I can speak no names. I am directed to bring thee and thy companions."

d.i.c.k turned to Brad, speaking in a low tone:

"He must be from Ras al Had. The old sheik sent him for us."

"I reckon you're right, pard," nodded the Texan, the cloud having left his face. "At last we have heard from Ras."

Professor Gunn placed a still quivering hand on d.i.c.k's arm.

"Be cautious, Richard," he warned. "I am afraid of these wild men. It is said that they are very treacherous. Better ask him openly if he comes from the sheik."

"He has said that he can call no names. It is evident that Ras al Had has taken precautions. In case he is captured and condemned for slaying Hafsa Pasha, he does not wish to a.s.sociate us with him in that business, and so his name is not to be mentioned before these Syrians."

"You have figured it out, partner," put in Buckhart. "I opine we've had our little scare for nothing. The sheik has sent for us in his own way, and we'll be liable to find Nadia and Budthorne by accompanying the Bedouins."