MYSTERIOUS DANGER
There was a moment’s silence, while Gus essayed a grin which failed to
live up to his expectations. The brown face across the table was too
much in earnest, too sincere, to allow for any levity. Then, in a low
voice, Gus said:
“Yes.”
“Very well. It is not for me to say what your wish is. You know that.
Later, I shall say if it will occur. Now, please look at me.”
Gus stared across the table like a bird looking into the eyes of a cat.
Suddenly he flushed, and shifted his eyes. The brown man smiled.
“It is not so hard, is it?”
“Huh? Oh, you got that, hey? I was afraid--”
“You were afraid I was trying to hold your eyes, and you moved them to
find out. Is that not so?”
“That’s right,” Gus admitted uneasily.
“He’s clever!” Roy whispered to Teddy, in admiration. “Bet he knows a
lot about psychology.”
If Mohammed heard him, he made no sign.
“There are many things I see for you,” he said slowly, “many, many
things. Some good, some bad. First I shall tell you of what you have
been. You were born in a very hot country, no?”
“Uh-huh. On the border,” Gus admitted laconically.
“I know not that place. But I see that you have the nature of the
south. Slow, gentle, kind. I, myself, have that nature. You do not like
excitement.”
“Nor work,” Nick added, _sotto voce_.
“What? No, young man, that is not so. This man is not lazy. He goes
carefully, that is all. He like not to jump into things. And that is
good. One thing I sorry for. You have not music in your life, as you
should.”
“Huh? I can’t play nothin’.”
“I not understand what you say, ‘play.’ I tell you that you should have
music, and you have not. Too bad. You have the soul for it. Now, you
are married, no?”
“Yep.”
“Your wife, she, I think, is from hot country. That kind of girl go
with your nature. Some time, I think before you marry, you have trouble
with this girl--you not be so sure of her. I see you unhappy for a
time. Is that true?”
“That’s true,” Gus answered. He looked up at Roy. The boy was
observing Mohammed intently.
“You would like to know something of the future?”
“Go ahead.”
“Eleven months from now you will be most un-happy. I cannot say why,
but I see it for you. That will pass. You must remember that it will
pass. You will never be much rich. But you will have that which is
better than riches--health and love. Your life will be long. Never
shall you cross great water. The big world shall not know of you, but
along your path those friends you have will honor you. Should you have
music into your life, it will help you to happiness. And you will some
day be a fine, wonderful musician if you allow the music to enter.
Still your path is not into the cities, but through fields. Your music
will be for your friends, not for the world. There will be one who will
know how great a musician you could become. That is your wife.” He
paused, and put a hand to his head. “That--is all.”
Gus sat quietly, staring down at the table. The thoughts that were
running through his head showed in his face--wonderment at the brown
man’s powers of divination, memories of what had happened so long ago
in Vegas. Suddenly he grinned, and looked up.
“You sure hit ’em right, Mo! Say, can I ask you any questions?”
“As much as you will.”
“Well, have I got anyone who’s lookin’ to do me dirt?”
“What? I cannot see this, what you mean ‘dirt’.”
“He means any enemies,” Teddy explained.
“Enemies! Now listen. In this room I feel that all are friends--good
friends. Yet there is something that trys to get in--someone who is
an enemy to all here. Yes, young man, you have an enemy, but not of
yourself--he is enemy because of what you are, not because who your
are.”
“Yea. Maybe. But I don’t get what you--”
“You mean that someone is his enemy because he is a friend of ours?”
Roy asked bluntly.
“That is it, young man,” Mohammed answered, not at all dismayed. “You,
all of you, have those who wish you not well. They seek to harm you.”
“An’ will they?” Nick demanded, leaning forward.
Mohammed kept silence for a moment, then spoke, slowly:
“That, friend, is in the laps of the gods. I may not tell you of it.
Please, you will excuse now?” He smiled appealingly.
“Sure! You earned your money,” Teddy said quickly. “If you’ll do a
trick for us, we’ll give you five bucks--altogether. How about it?”
“Trick? Perhaps.” He gazed long at Teddy, then nodded, as though the
boy had told him something. Later Teddy explained that he wanted Gus to
forget what he had been told, and to get his mind on other things Teddy
had suggested the trick. The brown man realized his purpose without
knowing the reason, and consented to work “magic” for them.
They leaned forward eagerly as the mystic took from the folds of his
robe a small flower pot. The thoughtful expression left Gus’s face and
he grinned happily.
“Gee, I allus wanted to see this!” he exclaimed. “You gonna make a
plant grow, ain’t you?”
Mohammed nodded and smiled.
“I shall do an attempt,” he said. “Not always succeed. Watch, please.”
Over the pot he waved his hands, intoning, the while, words in a
strange language, the only expression of which Teddy was sure was
“_Allah Akbar_.” Then, before the astonished gaze of his audience, a
stem pushed its way through the earth. Higher and higher it grew, while
they watched, and then tiny oranges came into being. Leaves sprouted.
The plant flourished, and a faint, sweet perfume came from it.
“Golly!” Nick breathed. “She’s growin’!”
At a height of about five inches the development stopped. Mohammed
dropped his hands, and bowed.
“It is finished,” he said simply. “Take and eat this.”
He pulled an orange off and handed it to Roy, who broke it open. The
fruit inside was fresh and fragrant.
“Can we have the tree?” he asked.
Mohammed shook his head.
“So sorry--that I must keep. See--”
He waved his hands again, and the tree shrank. Smaller and smaller it
grew, until finally it disappeared altogether. Then he seized the pot
and concealed it once more beneath his robe.
“Great!” Gus cried enthusiastically. “Good stuff, Mo! Golly, I wish I
could learn that! Here’s my two bucks. It sure was worth it.”
“Save it, Gus,” Roy said, and handed Mohammed a five dollar bill. The
brown man pocketed it casually. “Thank you,” he said.
“Where you goin’ from here?” Nick inquired.
The shoulders shrugged. “Who knows? I shall travel with Stamboul. Once
more, I thank you.” He bowed low, and walked toward the door.
“Mind if my brother and I ride a way with you?” Roy asked suddenly.
Mohammed gazed at him in surprise.
“If you so wish,” he said finally. “We follow no path, Stamboul and I.
You are welcome.”
Teddy, at a motion from his brother, ran toward the hitching-rail and
returned with Star and Flash. They mounted while the brown man seated
himself in his wagon.
“So long, Mo!” Nick called. “Good luck!”
Mohammed smiled his answer and picked up the reins. Stamboul came to
life wearily, and moved off. Teddy and Roy followed at a short distance
behind.
“Don’t say anything for a while,” Roy whispered. “Not till we get a way
out.”
Mohammed Ali Ben Suliman sat upright, his long robe trailing over the
edge of the wagon. Stamboul walked on, and when the mystic had passed
over a little hill, out of sight of the ranch, he turned.
“Looks kind of like rain, doesn’t it?” he called, every trace of his
accent gone.
Teddy started. Roy smiled.