It was night in Egypt. The silver moonlight fell on the shining, silent
Nile, its low shores lined with shadowy palms. Up the Nile a small
excursion steamer was spluttering and throbbing, showing its lights.
It was a strange and unusual hour for a steamer to be moving on that
portion of the Nile, where but few steamers are ever seen. Traffic on
this river is carried on mainly with the aid of _dahabeahs_, which are
immense combined sail and row boats, having a low forward deck and a
large cabin aft.
Forward, near the pilot house of the little excursion steamer, there
were a number of persons. They were conversing in low tones and keeping
a sharp outlook ahead and on either side.
Dick, Brad, Professor Gunn, and Dunbar Budthorne were there. There were
also two others in the party, and these were Colonel Stringer and John
Coddington.
"There's a deep shadow over yonder in the bend of the river, pard," said
Buckhart, in a low tone. "They may be lying in there somewhere."
Immediately Dick turned to the man at the wheel and gave an order. The
course of the steamer was changed and she headed toward the shadow that
lay in the bend of the river. The pilot ran as near as he dared, on
account of the shallowness of the water. He then informed Dick that they
could not go in farther.
"I think it is near enough," said the boy. "We can see now. There's no
yacht lying in there."
The pilot declared it impossible that a small yacht should lie hidden
from their view anywhere in the shadowy space, and Dick told him to head
up the river again and get into the channel, from which both shores
could be watched.
In order to make sure they did not pass the yacht for which they were
searching, it was necessary at times for the steamer to make a sinuous,
winding course from side to side, the river being wide in many places.
This steamer was one of two excursion boats which made trips from Cairo
far up the river to the ruins of ancient Thebes and other spots of
historic interest.
Dick Merriwell had lost little time after learning from Dunbar Budthorne
that Nadia had been carried up the river in the private yacht of the
strange Turk. He formed his plans rapidly and went to work.
The first thing was to decide on some method of pursuit, and he quickly
concluded that they must follow in a yacht or steamer.
No yacht could be secured, and so he sought for a steamer. One of the
boats was up the river. The other, and smaller one, had just returned
from a trip and was advertised to leave again in two days.
Dick had no small difficulty in finding the captain, but this he finally
accomplished. The captain was a Swede. At first he seemed to think the
American boy was crazy, but it did not take Richard Merriwell long to
convince that Swede of his sanity and earnestness.
The captain stated that he must have a sum representing nearly a hundred
dollars a day for the use of his boat. Dick agreed to pay it. The
captain grinned and asked him where he was going to get so much money.
Then the American lad flashed a purse, the clinking sound of its
contents causing the eyes of the Swede to glitter.
"How much advance money do you demand?" asked Dick.
The captain said he would require two days' pay.
"And then you will be ready to start----"
"It's night now," said the Swede. "Ay be rady to start in mornang."
"You must be ready to start in just sixty minutes," said Dick.
"Ay can't do it."
"If you are ready to start in sixty minutes I'll pay you this amount
extra."
The boy laid down four pieces of money.
"Ay be rady," said the captain, taking up the money.
In the meantime Professor Gunn had met and told Colonel Stringer, and
the colonel had carried the story to his English friend, Coddington.
These men were eager to join in the pursuit of Nadia's captors. They
were on hand when Dick and Brad appeared and announced the securing of
the steamer.
"My dear Coddington," said the colonel, "the prospect of a little
fighting makes my blood stir. Are yo' armed, suh?"
"I have my pistol, don't you know," answered the Englishman.
"Very good, suh. I have two pistols, and I can use them both. We'll make
it red-hot fo' this Spaniard and his Turkish friend, if we evah catch
them."
"But I'm afraid we'll never catch them," said Coddington. "This steamer
the boy has secured is a slow old tub."
"We'll overtake them if we have to pursue them clean up to Lake Victoria
Nyanza," declared Dick grimly. "I don't see why they turned up the
river, if they wish to get away."
"That's what puzzled me up a plenty, pard," put in Buckhart. "Mebbe
Budthorne made a mistake; mebbe the Turk's yacht went down the river."
But Budthorne insisted that he had made no mistake, and so, when they
had boarded the excursion steamer and found everything ready for the
start, they headed toward the upper waters of the Nile.
"Look there!"
"Where?"
The exclamation and the question were spoken in a whisper. Dick uttered
the first; the second came from several of his companions.
"Close to the shore in that cove yonder."
"What do you see?"
"Looks like the black hulk of a boat in the shadow of those thick
palms."
"It sure does look that way!" palpitated Buckhart.
"But it may be one of these river boats, don't you know," said
Coddington. "They find many places where they swing in to the shore and
tie up."
"She shows no light," said Colonel Stringer.
Dick spoke to the pilot.
"Can you run in there?" he asked. "We think we see a boat near the
shore."
The pilot explained that the river was quite deep there, such current as
there was being thrown near the bank by its winding course. He sounded
the bell for half speed and the steamer glided toward the deep shadows.
Professor Gunn was very nervous.
"We must be near the site of old Memphis," he said. "The ruins are
covered by a great palm grove, and you can see plenty of palms there, on
the shore."
But the others were watching the small, dark hulk that lay near the
shore close under the shadow of the palms, through which the light from
the low-lying moon sifted in spots.
"Whoever is on board there, they ought to know we're coming," growled
Buckhart, disgusted by the fuss made by the little steamer, which was
snorting and wheezing in a manner to be heard afar in the wonderful
silence of that Egyptian night.
"I think some one is stirring, don't you know," said Coddington. "I
fancied I saw something move."
Dick had fancied the same. To him it seemed as if some dark figures left
the steamer and slipped away into the gloom of the palms. Once something
like a muffled cry came out across the water, but the wheezing of the
steamer prevented them from hearing it distinctly. Even though it were a
cry of some sort, they knew it might come from a night bird or a
prowling wild beast amid the ruins of the ancient city.
Suddenly and unexpectedly a bar of light shot out from the black hulk
near the shore. It struck in their faces, dazzling and blinding them.
Involuntarily they half crouched, while several of them reached for
their weapons.
"A searchlight!" exclaimed Dick. "We've found the yacht! Look out for
trouble!"
"There sure is liable to be some shooting!" breathed Buckhart; "and
we're mighty fine targets here in this light. Look out for bullets!"
Then a voice hailed them. Some one called to them in Turkish. It was a
challenge, although they did not understand the words.
"Talk English," cried Dick. "We don't understand that lingo."
"No, we don't savvy it any at all," said Buckhart.
"Are you trying to collide with me?" demanded a voice from behind the
searchlight. "Keep off!"
"He savvys United States all right," said Brad, in deep satisfaction.
"Now we can powwow with him."
The captain of the steamer gave a signal for the engineer to reverse his
engines.
"Who are you?" demanded Dick.
"What right have you to ask?" was the indignant retort.
"We take the right. Better answer."
"I am a peaceful individual seeking to get some sleep. Why do you come
pounding in here with your noisy old boat and disturb my rest?"
"He's a whole lot saucy," growled the Texan.
"We are looking for a private yacht, owned by a Turkish gentleman,"
explained Dick.
"A Turkish gentleman--not!" muttered Buckhart.
"You are friends?" was the inquiry from behind the source of the light.
"Not exactly; but we have important business with the gentleman."
"What's his name?"
"What's your name?"
Dick was talking to give the captain time to bring the steamer alongside
the yacht, which was no simple task under the circumstances.
Evidently the unknown did not fancy Dick's manner of speech, for he
again commanded them to keep off.
"If you touch my boat you will mar her," he said. "I don't know you. You
may be scoundrels, robbers, assassins."
"We're looking for some scoundrels," said the Texan, in a low tone; "and
I certain reckon we've found them. Get ready to board that boat, and be
prepared to fight."
"I warn you to keep off!" angrily shouted the voice of the unseen man.
"We'll have to defend ourselves."
"If you're on the level," said Dick, "you have nothing to fear from us;
but we are determined to make an investigation and find out who and what
you are."
"We may fire on you."
"Better not."
"We can. You are in the light, while it is impossible for you to see
us."
"If you do any shooting, you'll regret it."
During this "game of talk" the pilot was manipulating the steamer as
skillfully as possible, the bell tinkling nervously and frequently in
the engine room.
Dick felt something touch his leg and glanced down. Dunbar Budthorne,
agitated and cowering, was crouching on his knees in the shadow of the
rail at the boy's feet.
"Get up!" muttered Dick, in a low tone. "Don't let them see they have
frightened anybody. We must bluff this thing through."
"They may begin shooting any moment," chattered the cowering fellow. "If
they do, they can pick us all off easily. You'll be the first one
killed, too, for Bunol thirsts for your blood."
Not another one of the group had sought shelter. Colonel Stringer, his
gray mustache bristling, was standing erect with his shoulders squared
toward the enemy, while John Coddington was planted near, his hands on
his hips. Buckhart was close to the rail, his square jaw set, fire in
his eyes. The professor, inspired by the others, had not betrayed any
alarm, although Dick fancied he was ready to drop and seek shelter the
instant any trouble began.
In the very forefront was Merriwell.
The enemy seemed in doubt, and while they hesitated the steamer bumped
against the side of the yacht.
The moment the two boats touched Dick and Brad were on the jump. The
searchlight no longer bore on them. They leaped to the rail and went
over it. From the steamer they sprang to the deck of the yacht.
Colonel Stringer followed, only he was somewhat more cautious. He was a
moment ahead of Coddington.
Dick had a pistol in his hand when his feet struck the deck of the
yacht. Buckhart also had drawn a weapon.
They found themselves confronted by two men, both of whom seemed
unarmed.
"Is this the way peaceable persons behave?" asked a cuttingly sarcastic
voice. "You have boarded my yacht in defiance of my wishes, and, if my
eyes do not deceive me in this light, you have weapons in your hands."
"We shall not use our weapons unless you force us to use them," said
Dick. "Have no fear of that."
"Under the circumstances," said the stranger, "you must confess that you
have given us great provocation. We should have been justified in firing
on you as you drew near, for your movements have been hostile all
along."
"I reckon there was a right good reason why you did no shooting," put in
Brad.
"And that reason was--what?"
"You didn't dare."
"Oh, but any man has a right to defend himself and his property. You are
wrong in thinking we did not dare. What had we to fear?"
"The row it would raise if you did fire on us. You bet your boots
shooting of that sort would have kicked up a rumpus."
"Your logic is poor. However, I do not intend arguing with you. Now that
you are here, be good enough to state your business instantly. As soon
as possible I wish you to retire."
"I presume you haven't the least idea of the nature of our business?"
said Dick sarcastically.
"Not the least, I assure you."
"Where is Miguel Bunol?"
"Who is that?"
"Miguel Bunol."
"You will pardon me, but I fear I have not the pleasure of the
gentleman's acquaintance."
"You are a Turk?"
"Yes."
"You own this yacht?"
"Yes."
"You are the man so often seen watching our party in Cairo."
"I think you must be mistaken. I do not seem to remember you. However,
if you will step forward a little, I'll have the searchlight turned on
you. I may be able to recognize you then."
"Trick, pard!" hissed the Texan. "At close range they may begin the
shooting if they get us into the light."
"Wait a minute," invited Stringer. "Let me say something, if yo'
please."
Then he addressed the owner of the yacht.
"Suh," he said, "I am Stringer, suh, Colonel Weatherby Stringer, at one
time of the khedive's army. I am visiting Egypt again after a lapse of
some years, suh, but I assure yo' I have friends of power and influence
in Cairo and Alexandria. In case harm comes to me, suh, the whole affair
will be investigated, and yo' will find yo'self the sufferer if yo' are
in any degree at fault. That's all I have to say, suh. Now go ahead and
use your old searchlight as much as yo' like."
This was the little man's defiance.
"Perhaps you may not know me?" broke in the Englishman. "I am John
Coddington, and I have a large business interest in Cairo. If I should
happen to get shot to-night, I assure you, don't you know, that it would
be a very serious matter for any one who did the shooting."
The stranger bowed.
"It happened, gentlemen," he said, "that I fancied I recognized you both
when the searchlight was turned on your boat."
That seemed to explain why no shooting had been done. The presence of
Stringer and Coddington had held the enemy in check.
The enemy? Were these two men the only ones on the yacht? Surely not.
Our friends knew there must be more, but where were they?
"Now," said Dick, "as we are beginning to understand each other, we will
inform you further that we are looking for a Spaniard by the name of
Miguel Bunol. It is known that he proceeded up the river on the private
yacht of a Turkish gentleman. I hardly fancy there is another such yacht
on this part of the river."
"And so you think this man you seek must be on board my boat?"
"Exactly."
"He is not."
"Do you deny that he has been? Do you deny that he brought a young girl
on board this yacht against her will?"
The owner of the yacht laughed disdainfully.
"Deny it?" he exclaimed. "Of course I do!"
"Then you lie!" shouted a voice, as Dunbar Budthorne came leaping from
the steamer to the yacht and rushed forward to confront the cool Turk.
"I saw her brought on board! This is the yacht! She is here! Search the
boat!"