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SYNOPSIS.
George Perclval Algernon Jones, vice-
-president of the Metropolitan Orient*!
Rue company of New York, thirsting for
.romance, la In Cairo on a business trip.
Horace Ryanne arrlvea at the hotel in
■Cairo with a carefully guarded bundle.
Kyanne aella Jonea the famoua holy Yhl-
-ordes rug which he admlta having stolen
.from a pasha at Bagdad. Jonea meet*
JaJor Callahan and later la Introduced to
Mi.  
Fortune Chedaoye by a woman to whom
he had loaned 150 pounds at Monte Carlo
-aoma months previously, and who turns
out to be fortune's mother. Jones take*
Mrs. Chedsoye and Fortune to a polo
fame. Fortune returns to Jones the
money borrowed by her mother. Mrs.
Chedaoye appeara to be engaged In some
mysterloua enterprise unknown to the
daughter. Ryanne Interests Jones In the
United Romance and Adventure com-
pany, a concern which for a price will
arrange any kind of an advunture to or-
der. Mrs. Chedsoye, her brother, Major
Callahan, Wallace and Ryanne, as the
United Romance and Adventure company
plan a risky enterprise Involving Jones.
Ryanne makes known to Mrs. Chedsoye
his Internum to marry Fortune. Mrs.
Chedsoye declares she will not permit It.
Plans are laid to prevent Jones sailing
for home. Ryanne steala Jones' letters
and cable dispatches. He wires agent In
New York, In Jones' name, that ha is
Venting house In New York to some
friends. Mahomed, keeper of the holy
carpet, la on Ryanne's trail. Ryanna
promises Fortune that he will see that
Jones comes to no harm as a result of his
purchase of the rug. Mahomed accosts
Ryanne and demands the Yhlordea rug.
Ryanne tells him Jones has the rug and
•uggests the abduction of the New York
merchant as a means of securing lta re-
turn. The rug disappears from Jones'
room. Fortune quarrels with her mother
when the latter refuses to explain her
mysterious actions. Fortune gets a mes-
sage purporting to be from Ryanne ask-
ing her to meet him In a secluded place
that evening. Jones receives a message
asking him to meet Ryanne at the Engllsn-
Bar the same evening. Jones is carried
off Into the desert by Mahomed and his
accomplices after a desperate fight. He
discovers that Ryanne and Fortune also
are Captives, the former Is badly battered
and unconscious. Ryanne recovers con-
sciousness and the sight of Fortune In
captivity reveals to him the fact that
Mahomed intends to get vengeance on
him through the girl. Fortune acknowl-
edges that she stole the rug from Jones'
room. She offers to return ft to Mahomed
If he will free all three of them. Ma-
homed agrees to liberate Fortune and one
of the men in return for the rug. A cour-
ier Is sent to Cairo for the rue, but re-
turns with the information that Mrs.
Chedsoye and her brother have sailed for
New York. Fortune spurns offered free
dom which does not Include her two com
panions. The caravan continues the Jour-
ney toward Bagdad. Ryanne tells Jonea
that Mrs. Chedsoye Is the most adroit
smuggler of the age, and Is overheard by
Fortune. The three captives are rescued
by Henry Ackermann, who Is In charge
of a carpet caravan. Mahomed escapes.
Mrs. Chedsoye discovers the absence of
Fortune and leaves for New York, taking
the girl's belongings with her. Through
forged letters Mrs. Chedsoye, the major
and th*lr accomplices take possession of
Jones' New York home.
CHAPTER XVIII.
The Man Who Didn't Care.
It was the first of February when
Ackermann's caravan drew Into the
ancient city of Damascus. That part
of the caravan deserted by Mahomed
put out for Cairo immediately they
■truck the regular camel-way. For-
tune, George and Ryanne were In a
pitiable condition, heart and body
weary, in rage and tatters. George,
now that the haven was assured,
dropped his forced buoyancy, his prat-
tie, his Jests. He had done all a mor-
tal man could to keep up the spirits
of his co-unfortunates; and he aaw
that, moat of the time, he bad wasted
his talents. Ryanne, sullen and mo-
rose, often told him to "shut up;"
which wasn't exhilarating. And For
tune viewed his attempts without
sensing them and frequently looked at
him without seeing him. Now, all this
was not particularly comforting to the
man who lovtd her and was doing
what he could to lighten the dreari-
ness of the Journey. He made allow-
ances, however; besides suffering un-
usual privations, Fortune had had a
frightful mental shock. A girl of her
depth of character could.not be ex-
pected to rise Immediately to the old
level. Sometimes, while gathered
about the evening fire, he would look
up to find her sad eyes staring at him,
and It mattered not if he stared In re-
turn. a kind of clairvoyance blurred
visibilities, for she was generally look-
ing Into h«r garden at Mentone and
wondering when this horrible dream
would pass Subjects for conversa-
tion were exhausted in no time. Dig
as he might, George could find noth-
ing new; and often he recounted the
same tale twice of an evening. Sar-
donic laughter from Ryanne.
Ackermann had given them up as
hopeless. He was a strong, vain, dom-
ineering man, kindly at heart, how-
ever, but impatient. When he told a
story, he demanded the attention of
all; so, when Ryanne yawned before
his eyes, and George drew pictures In
the sand, and the girl fell aBleepwlth
bar head upon her knees, he drew
off abruptly and left them to th^r
own devices. He had crossed and re-
crossed the silences ao often that he
waa no longer capable of Judging ac-
curately another man's mental pro-
cesses. That they had had a strange
and numbing experience he readily
understood; but now that tbey were
out of duress and headed for the
coast, ne aaw no reason why they
Should not act like human beings.
Tbey still put up the small tent for
fortune, but the reat of them alept
i^pon the sand, under the atara. Once,
George awoke as the dawn waa glid-
ing the east Silhouetted against the
sky he aaw Fortune. She waa stand
Ing straight, her handa pressed at her
■Idea, her bead tilted back—a tenae
attitude. He did not know It, but
ah* waa asking God why ti it ti thinga
should b*. He threw off his blanket
and ri- to her.
"Fortune, you mustn't do that You
will catch cold."
"I cannot Bleep," she aald simply.
He took her by the hand and led
her to the tent. "Try," he said. Then
he did something he bad never done
before to any woman save his mother.
He kissed her hand, turned quickly,
and went over to hla blanket She
remained motionless before the tent
The band fascinated her. From the
hand her gaze traveled to the man
settling himself comfortably under his
blanket Pity, pity! that
was ever to be her portion; pity!
In Damascus the trio presented
themselves at the one decent hotel,
and but for Ackermann's charges upon
the manager, it Is doubtful If he would
have accepted them bs guests; for a
more susplclpus-looklng trio he had
never set eyes upon. (A hotel man
weighs a person by the quality of his
clothes.) Moreover, they carried no
luggage. Ackermann went sponsor;
and knowing something of the Integ-
rity of the rug-hunter, the manager
surrendered. And when George pre-
sented his letter of credit at the Im-
perial Ottoman Bank, again It waa
Ackermann who vouched for him. It
had been agreed to say nothing of the
character of their adventure. None
of them wanted to be followed by cu-
rious eyes.
With a handful of British gold In his
pocket, George faced the future hope-
fully. He took his companions in
and about town, hunting the shops for
clothing, which after various difficul-
ties they succeeded in finding. It was
111-fittlng and cheap, but It would serve
till they reached Alexandria or Naples.
"How are you fixed?" asked Ry-
anne, gloomily surveying George's
shoddy cotton-wool suit
"Cash in hand?"
"Yes.'
"About four hundred pounda. At
Naples I can cable. Do you want
any?"
"Would you mind advancing me
two months' salary?"
"Ryanne, do you really mean to
stick to that proposition?"
"It's on my mind Juat now."
"Well, we'll go back to the bank
and I'll draw a hundred pounds for
you. You can pay your own expenses
as we go. But what are we going to
do in regard to Fortune?"
LD MACGPATH
Aufhor of HEARTS AND iTASKS
Oio MAN ON THE BOX et&. ♦
Illvi tmliorv5 by ♦ . •
COPTRIOMT 1911 by BOBBS - MERRILL COMPANY •
he'd have been alive today. OS, damn
it all; let's go back to the hotel and
order that club-steak, or the beBt imi-
tation they have. I'm going to have
a pint of wine. I'm aa dull as-a ditch
in a paddy-field."
A bottle or two will not hurt sny
of us. Well ask Ackermann. For
God knows where we'd have been to-
day but for him. And let him do all
the yarning. It will please him."
"And while he gabs, we'll get the
beat of the steak and wine!" For the
first time in days Ryanne's laughter
had a bit of the erstwhile rollicking
tone.
The dinner was an event. No deli-
cacy (mostly canned) was overlooked.
The manager, as he heard the guin-
eas Jingle In George's pocket, waa
filled with shame; not over his origi-
nal doubts, but relative to his lack
of perception. The tourists who sat
at the other tables were scandalised
at the- popping of champagne-corks.
Sanctimonloua facea glared reproof.
A jovial spirit In (be Holy Land waa
an anachronism, not to be tolerated.
And wine! Horrible! Doubtless,
when they retired to their native back-
porches, they retold with never-end-
lng horror of having witnessed such
a scene and- having heard such laugh-
ter upon the sacred soil.
Even Fortune laughed, though Ry-
anne's ear, keenest then, detected the
vague note of hysteria. If the meat
waa tough, thi potatoes greasy, the
vegetables flavorless, the wine flat
none of them appeared to be aware
of It. If Ackermann could talk he
could also eat; and the clatter of
forks and knives waa the theme rath-
er than the variation to the symphony.
George felt himself drawn deeper
and deeper into those tragic waters
from which, as in death, there Is no
return. She was so lonely, so sad
and forlorn, that there was as much
brother as lover in his sympathy.
How patient she had been during all
those inconceivable hardships! How
brave and steady; and never a mur-
mur! The single glass of wine had
brought the color back to her cheek
and the sparkle into her eye; yet be
"Ryanne, Do You Really Mean to Stick to That Proposition?"
"See that she gets safely back to
Mentone."
"Suppose she will not go there?"
"It's up to you, Perclval; It's all up
to you. You're the gay Lochlnvar
from the west. I'm not sure—no one
ever Is regarding a woman—but I
think shell listen to you. She wouldn't
givs an ear to a scalawag like me.
This caravan business has put ms out-
side the pale. I've loat caate."
"You're only desperate and discour-
aged; you can pull up straight"
"Much obliged!"
"You haven't looked at life normal-
ly; that's what the matter la."
"Solon, you're right There's that
poor devil back in Bagdad. 1're killed
a man. PerclvaL It doeau't mix well
In my dreams."
"You said that it was in self-de-
fense."
"And Qod knows It was. But If 1
hadn't gone after that damned rug,
was sure that behind this apparent
liveliness lay tbe pitiful desperation
of the helpless. He had not spoken
again about old Mortimer. He would
wait till after he bad sent a long
cable. Then he would speak and
show her the answer, of which ho
had not a particle of doubt As mat-
ters now stood, he rould not tell her
that be loved her; his quixotic sense
of chivalry was too strong to permit
this step, urge as his heart might
upon It. She might misinterpret hla
love aa born of pity, and that would
be the end of everything. Ha waa con-
fident now that Ryanne meant noth-
ing to ber. Her lack of enthusiasm,
whenever Ryanne spoke to het in
these days; the peculiar horizontality
of her llpa and brows, whenever Ry-
anne offered a trifling courtesy—all
pointed to dtitruat George felt a
guilty gladness. After all, why
shouldn't aha dlatruat RyanneT
George concluded that he must ac-
quire patienoe . She waa far too loyal
to run away without flrat giving him
warning. In the event of her refus-
ing Mortimer's roof and protection, he
knew what his plans would be. Some
one else could do tbe buying for Mor-
timer & Jones; his business would be
to revolve round this lonely girl," to
watch and guard her without her be-
ing aware of it. Of what use were
riches if he could not put them to
whatever use he chose? So he would
wait near her, to see that she came
and went unmolested, till against that
time when she would recognise how
futile her efforts were and how wide
and high the wall of the world waa.
That mother of hers! To bis mind
it was positively unreal that one so
charming and lovely ahould be at
he^rt strong aa the wind and merci-
less as the sea. His mother had been
everything; hera, worse than none,
an eternal queatlon. What a drama
ahe had moved about in, without un-
derstanding!
George did not possess that eaay
and adjustable sophistry which made
Ryanne look upon smuggling aa a
clever game between two cheats. His
point of view coincided with For-
tune's; it was thievery, more or less
condoned, but the ethlca covering It
were soundly established. He had
come very near being culpable him-
aelf. True, he would not have been
guilty of smuggling for profit; but
none the less he would have tried to
cheat the government. His sin had
found him out; he had now neither
the rug nor his thousand pounds.
All these cogitations passed through
his mind, dlsjointedly, as the dinner
progressed toward its end. They bade*
Ackermann good-by and Godspeed, as
he waa to leave early for Beirut, upon
his way to Smyrna Fortune went to
bed; Ryanne sought the billiard-
room and knocked about the balls;
while George asked the manager if
he could spnd a cable from the hotel
Certainly he could. It took some
time to compose the cable to Morti-
mer; and it required some gold be-
sides. Mortimer must have a fair view
of the case; and George presented It
requesting a reply to be sent to Cook'a
In Naples, where they expected to be
within ten days.
"How much will this be?"
The porter got out his telegraph
book and studied the rates carefully.
"Twelve pounda six, sir
The porter greeted each sovereign
with a genuflection, the loweat being
the twelfth. George pocketed the re-
ceipt and went In search of Ryanne.
But that gentleman was no longer
In the billiard-room. Indeed, he had
gone quietly to the other hotel and
written a cable himself, tbe code of
which was not to be found In any
book. For a long time he seemed to
be in doubt for he folded and refold
ed his message half a dozen times be-
fore his actions became decisive. He
tore it up and threw the scraps upon
the floor and hastened into the street,
as IT away from temptation. He
walked fast and indirectly, smoking
Innumerable cigarettes. He was fight-
ing hard, the evil in him against the
good, the chances of the future against
the irreclaimable past. At the end of
an hour he returned to the strange ho-
tel. His lips were puffed and bleed
Ing. He had smoked so many ciga
rettes and had pulled them so impa-
tiently from his mouth, that the dry
paper had cracked the delicate skin
He rewrote his cable and paid for
the sending of it. Then he poked
about the unfamiliar corridors till he
found the dingy bar. He sat down be-
fore a peg of whisky, which was fol
lowed by many more, each a bit stlffer
than its predecessor. At last, when
he had had enough to put a normal
man's head upon the table or to cover
his face with the mask of Inanity,
Hvanne fell Into the old habit of talk
Ing aloud.
"Horace, old top, what's the use?
We'd Just like to be good if we could
eh? But they won't let us. We'd
grow raving mad in a monastery. We
were honest at the time, but we
couldn't stand the monotony of watch-
ing green olives turn purple upon the
silvery bough. Nay, nay!"
He pushed the glass away from him
and studied the air-bubbles as they
formed, rose to the surface, and were
dissipated.
"No matter what tbe grfme has
been, somehow or other, they've
baahed us, and we've lost out"
He emptied the glass and ordered
another. He and the bartender were
alone. 
"After all, love is like U10Ue>. ill)
1
I
"la It Bad Nsws?"
lng-room, where he wrote a short let-
ter. It was not without a perverted
aense of humor, for a smile twisted
his lips till he had sealed the letter
and addressed the envelope to
George Perclval Algernon Jones. He
stuffed It into a pocket and went out
whistling "The Heavy Dragoons" from
the opera of "Patience."
Before the lighted window of a shop
he paused. He swayed a little. From
a pocket of his new coat he pulled
out a glove. It waa gray and amall
and much wrinkled. From time to
time he drew it through his fingers,
staring the while at the tawdry trin-
kets in the shop-window. Finally he
looked down at the token. He became
very still. A moment passed; then
he flung the glove into the gutter, and
proceeded to his own notel. He left
the letter with the porter, paid hla
bill, and went out again into the dark,
chill night
He was now what he had been two
montha ago, the man who didn't care
CHAPTER XIX.
better to live frugally upon the inter-
eat than to aquander tbe capital and
go bankrupt. And who cares, any-
how?"
He drank once more, dropped a half-
severelgn upon the table, and pushed
back his chair. Hla eyes were blood-
shot now, and tbe brown of his skin
had become a slaty tint; but he
walked steadily enough Into the read-
Fortune Decides.
George and Fortune were seated at
breakfast It waa eaily morning. At
ten they were to depart for Jaffa, to
take the tubby French packet there to
Alexandria They could Just about
make It, and any delay meant a week
or ten days longer upon this ragged
and Inhospitable coast.
"Ryanne has probably overslept
After breakfast I'll go and rout htm
out. The one thing that really tickles
me," George continued, as he pared
the tough rind from the skinny bacon,
"is, we shan't have any luggage.
Think of the bleM'.^g of traveling
without a trunk or a valise or a
steamer-roll!"
"Without even a comb or a hair-
brush!"
"It's great fun." George broke his
toast.
And. Fortune wondered how she
could tell him. She was without any
toilet articles. She hadn't even a
toothbrush; and it was quite out of
the question for her to. bother him
about trifles, much as she needed
them. .She would have to live In the
clothes she wore, and trust that the
ship's stewardess might help her out
in the absolute necessities.
Here the head-waiter brought
George a letter. Tbe address was
enough for George. No ona but Ry-
anne could have written It Without
excusing himself, he ripped, off the
envelope and read the contents. For-
tune could not resist watching him,
for she grasped quickly that only
Ryanne could have written a letter
here In Damascus. At first the tan
upon George's cheeks darkened—the
sudden effusion at blood; then It be-
came lighter, and the mouth and eyea
and noae became atern.
"Is It bad news?-
"It all depeuda upon bow you look
at It. For my part, good riddance to
bad rubbish. Here, read it yourself."
She read:
"My Dear Perclval: After all, I find
that I can not reconcile myself to the
dullness of your olive-groves. I shall
send the five hundred to you when I
r-xch New York. With me It la aa
it waa with the devil. When he waa
sick, be vowed be would be a saint;
but whan ha got well, devil a aaiat
waa he. There used to be a rhyme
about it but I have forgotten that
Anyhow, there you are. I feel that
I am conceding a point in regard to
the money. It la contrary to the lawa
and by-lawa of the United Romance
and Adventure Company to refund.
Still, I intend to hold myself to It
With hale affection,
"RYANNE."
"What do you think of that?" de-
manded George hotly. "I never did
a good action in my life that waant
served 111. I'm a soft duffer. If there
ever waa one."
"I ahall never be ungrateful for
your kindness to me."
"Oh, hang Itl You're different;
you're not like any other woman In
the world," he blurted; and Immedi-
ately waa seised with a mild species
of fright
Fortune stirred her coffee and deli-
cately scooped up the swirling circles
of foam.
"Old maids call that money," he
said understanding^, eager to oovar
up hla boldness. "My mother used
to tell me that there were lota ot
wonders in a tea-cup."
"Tell me about your mother."
To him it waa a theme never lack-
ing in new expressions. When he
spoke of his mother. It altered the
clear and boyish note In hla voice;
it became subdued, reverent He
would never be aught than guileless;
it waa not in his nature to divine any-
thing save hla own Impulses. While
he thought he waa pleasing her each
tendefr recollection, each pralae, was
In fact a nail added to her crucifixion,
self-imposed. However, she never
lowered her eyes, but kept then
bravely directed Into his. In the midst
of one of his panegyrics be caught
sight of his watch which he had
placed at the side of his plate.
"By Jove! quarter to nine. I*rs
got an errand or two to do, and
there's no need of your running your
feet off on my account I'll be back
quarter after." He dug into his
pocket and counted out fifty pounds
in paper and gold. "You keep this
till I get back."
She pushed it aside, half rising
from her chair.
"Fortune, listen. Hereafter I am
George, your brother George; and I
do not want you ever to question any
action of mine. I am leaving this
money in qpse some accident befell
me. You never can tell." He took
her hand and firmly pressed It down
upon the money. "In half an hour,
sister. 111 be back. You did not think
that I was going to run away?"
"No."
"Do you understand sow?"
"Yea."
While he waa gone ahe remained
seated at the table. She made little
pyramids of the gold, divided the evea
datea from tbe odd. arranged Maltese
crosses and circles and stars. . . .
Pity, pity! Well, why ahould ahe re-
bel against it? Waa It not more than
ahe had had hithertof What ahouid
she do? She closed her eyes. She
would trouble ber tired brain 1
about the future till they
Naples. She would f
drift ber how It