? ? ? ? Werper sat up quickly in his blankets at the first alarm, a startled expression upon his countenance; but at the last words of the black a sigh of relief escaped his lips and a slight smile replaced the tense lines upon his face.
? ? ? ? "I come," he called to the slave, and drawing on his boots, rose and went out of his tent.
? ? ? ? Excited Arabs and blacks were running from all parts of the camp toward the silken tent of Mohammed Beyd, and when Werper entered he found a number of the raiders crowded about the corpse, now cold and stiff.
? ? ? ? Shouldering his way among them, the Belgian halted beside the dead body of the raider. He looked down in silence for a moment upon the still face, then he wheeled upon the Arabs.
? ? ? ? "Who has done this thing?" he cried. His tone was both menacing and accusing. "Who has murdered Mohammed Beyd?"
? ? ? ? A sudden chorus of voices arose in tumultuous protest.
? ? ? ? "Mohammed Beyd was not murdered," they cried. "He died by his own hand. This, and Allah, are our witnesses," and they pointed to a revolver in the dead man's hand.
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