Dick Merriwell's Pranks: or, Lively Times in the Orient

“Which, therefore, will not happen again. Don’t be foolish, old man.”

“You remember that other man – the one we saw join the Turk on Citadel Hill?”

“Yes.”

“I dreamed about him last night, Dick.”

“Did you?”

“Sure; and it was a bad dream. I thought you and I were walking along a dark street, in a strange city, when that other man came up behind us suddenly. I turned just in time to see him drive a knife into your back, but not in time to check him. You fell! Then I sprang on your murderer and flung him to the ground. I had him by the throat and I dragged him to a corner, where there was a light. When I had pulled him into the light I discovered that he was Chester Arlington.”

“Well, you see how foolish dreams are, Brad. Chet Arlington is at Fardale, thousands of miles away.”

“That’s all right. I don’t opine the chap we saw was Arlington; but somehow I have the idea that he’s an enemy to you, and just as dangerous an enemy as Chet Arlington.”

“If you take stock in dreams, you’ll be calling on fortune tellers, next.”

“Oh, you laugh! You wait and see! That dream meant something.”

Brad relapsed into silence, and Dick went on with his writing.

Ten minutes later they heard the sound of running feet on the stairs and outside their door. The door was burst open, and Dunbar Budthorne, ghastly white and shaking in every limb, reeled in.

Buckhart made a great leap and seized the fellow.

“For Heaven’s sake, Budthorne, what has happened?” he hoarsely demanded.

“Nadia!” gasped the agitated young man, seeming barely able to utter the word.

“Nadia!” grated Brad. “Something has happened to her? Speak, man!”

“We were walking – ”

“Go on!”

“Suddenly several men sprang out on us. They tried to seize Nadia. I – I did my best. I sought to protect her. One fellow snatched her from me. Another hit me on the head and knocked me down. But I saw the one who seized her – saw him face to face! I knew him. It was Miguel Bunol!”

Brad fell back as if struck in the face. Dick uttered an exclamation of incredulity.

“You’re crazy, Budthorne!” he palpitated. “Your eyes deceived you! Bunol cannot be here, for the Bedouins carried him away to sell him into slavery in Arabia.”

“I don’t care about that,” declared Budthorne, positively; “Bunol was with those men who attacked us – he seized Nadia. I know him! I cannot be deceived!”

“But Nadia,” questioned Brad; “what became of her?”

“I was stunned for the time,” said Dunbar. “When I recovered the men were gone and she had disappeared. I ran about aimlessly, but something guided me to the river. I saw them in a boat that was rowing off to a small yacht. I saw them lift my sister from the boat over the rail into the yacht. Steam was up. The yacht hoisted anchor and away it went up the river. All this time I was running up and down the bank, trying to hire some one to take me off to the yacht in a boat. No one would. And when the yacht was far up the river I turned and came back here as fast as I could. Oh, Nadia – poor Nadia! How can we save her?”

CHAPTER XXVIII – IN BUNOL’S POWER

A small but handsome private yacht, under full head of steam, was making its swift course up the Nile.

In the tiny, Orientally furnished cabin of this yacht, Miguel Bunol stood with his feet wide apart, his hands in his pockets, puffing at a cigarette and triumphantly regarding a cowering, pale-faced, red-eyed girl.

Bunol’s manner was insolent and self-satisfied in the extreme. He felt that he was master of the situation at last and his heart beat high with exultation.

Nadia glanced at him in terror. She had crept as far from him as possible.

“I am greatly sorry to cause you such vast distress,” said the young Spaniard, with pretended regret.

Her lips curled.

“You, sorry!” she exclaimed chokingly.

“No doubt you do not believe me, but it is true, my dear – I swear it is true.”

Her eyes began to flash.

“You know you are lying, you monster!”

“At least,” he retorted, with a dark smile, “your spirit is not broken, and I like that. You made such a terrible disturbance, and you did weep so much that I feared you would not have any spirit left. I admire the girl of spirit, and for the one who cows and whimpers, like a whipped puppy, I have but little regard.”

She was silent, but scorn and loathing continued to gleam in her eyes.

“I regret to the exceeding limit that we felt it necessary to pursue the course we did, but we dared not wait longer.”

“We? You mean yourself.”

“There is another concerned.”

“What other?”

“My friend, Medjid Bey. He is the owner of this yacht.”

“A Turk! A worthy comrade!”

“Medjid Bey is a Turkish gentleman of high rank. He stands high in the regard of the sultan.”

“I am glad to know the name of your accomplice in this dastardly piece of business.”

“Oh, you will know him far better before this affair is over. He is a splendid fellow. Only for that, at this moment you might be under arrest, and on your way back to Damascus, or to Constantinople.”

She betrayed her total disbelief in the words of Bunol.

“I give you the assurance of a gentleman that I speak the truth,” he bowed.

“The assurance of a gentleman!” she exclaimed. “A fine gentleman! A gambler, a scheming scoundrel!”

“You misjudge me greatly, Nadia. You have never understood me. From the first I took a friendly interest in your brother. I knew his weaknesses, and I tried – ”

“You tried to ruin him! You got him into your power by drugging him. The drug you gave him made him the slave of drink, and you did not permit its effect to wear off. When it seemed about to wear off, you gave him more of the drug. Friendly interest! You were making him a drunkard!”

“It is useless to argue with a girl. Women do not reason. What they believe they believe, without sense or judgment.”

“I believe what I know. You had Dunbar in your grip, in London. Since then he has never been himself. His spirit is broken and his courage gone.”

“Surely he lacks courage, else he would not have deserted you to-day. He ran away in the most cowardly manner when we appeared. It was our intention to take him along with you. I thought you would feel better about it if you had him for company.”

Nadia felt a twinge of shame for her brother, who had displayed the white feather in the most pitiful manner.

The account of the affair, as given by Budthorne to Merriwell and Buckhart, was true with the single exception of Dunbar’s statement that he had defended Nadia until struck down. This part of the story he had founded on Dick’s experience in defense of the girl in Damascus. His befuddled and unimaginable brain had been incapable of devising a different yarn.

“No wonder he fears you, Miguel Bunol!” panted the girl. “He has every reason to fear you.”

“That is no excuse for his cowardly conduct. No brave man ever deserts a lady in time of peril.”

“Perhaps you think yourself competent to judge a brave man?” she sneered. “Perhaps you really believe yourself brave?”

“I know what I am! but, with your brother concerned, I wish to make no unpleasant comparisons.”

“How kind of you! You are such a gallant gentleman!”

Her scorn was scorching, but he declined to be touched by it. Coolly he lighted a fresh cigarette.

“Where is the master of this boat?” she suddenly demanded, half starting up. “I demand to see him!”

“All in good time, my dear. You shall see him soon.”

“Now! He must listen to me! He must explain his conduct! You have deceived him! You have lied to him! He cannot realize what he is doing!”

“You are wholly mistaken, I assure you. Medjid Bey understands quite perfectly what he is doing.”

“It is unlawful! It is a crime!”

“He has learned of a certain crime that was lately committed in Damascus.”

“You mean – ”

“I speak of the murder of Hafsa Pasha, a countryman of Medjid Bey.”

“How does that concern me?”

“You know you are concerned. In Damascus it is said an American adventuress ensnared Hafsa Pasha, and her friends killed him.”

“Which is a wretched story to hide the truth that Hafsa Pasha brutally seized and imprisoned an American girl. The story is told to shield the Pasha in case the affair should be too closely investigated.”

“Perhaps so; but you know by experience that the people of Damascus believe it, for you were compelled to flee from the city in disguise to escape the enraged Moslems. Had you fallen into the hands of that mob you would have been torn limb from limb.”

“Still you – fine gentleman that you are – threatened to deliver me over, and, to prevent you, Dick Merriwell and Brad Buckhart seized, bound and gagged you and fastened you in a closet of the German hotel!”

“My dear Nadia, I had no thought of permitting you to fall into the hands of the mob; but I did wish to bring those fool boys to terms by frightening them.”

“You found them boys you could not frighten.”

“They are young idiots! They do not know enough to be afraid!”

“You followed us after we escaped from the city.”

“And overtook you, too, aided by the Bedouins I engaged.”

“You did not overtake Dunbar and me.”

“But I did overtake Merriwell, Buckhart and that old fool professor.”

“Yes. Then you had Dick Merriwell stripped and were on the point of having him cruelly whipped. You threatened to have him sold into slavery in Arabia.”

“Which would have been his fate only for the unlucky appearance of that old devil of a sheik, Ras al Had. He turned up with his followers at the wrong moment.”

“At the right moment!” cried Nadia. “The whipping you intended for Merriwell you received yourself.”

Bunol’s face flushed.

“Yes,” he said, in a low, fierce tone. “The scars are on my back, and I shall bear them to the grave.”

“Retribution!”

“The end is not yet. I have sworn to make Merriwell suffer, even as I suffered!”

“That shows your true nature and the blackness of your heart, for it was not Dick Merriwell that caused you to be whipped. Ras al Had was the one. Dick interfered, or you would have been lashed until you fainted.”

“Why did he interfere? I know! It was because he feared I would be so weakened by the punishment that I would not be able to stand the journey to Arabia. He left me with those Bedouins, who were commanded to take me out of Syria and sell me into slavery in Arabia. He intended that I should perish a wretched slave of black men.”

“Which was the fate you had chosen for him and would have forced on him, only for the fortunate coming of the sheik. Do you never think that there is such a thing as retributive justice? I shuddered and was sorry for you when I learned what had happened. But now – now my only regret is that you escaped!”

“Well, I did escape, and I am here – to wreak vengeance on Merriwell!”

“And it was Ras al Had who commanded the Bedouins to carry you into captivity, not Merriwell. Merriwell did not know of the sheik’s order until he was far away and it was impossible for him to do anything.”

“He has told you that, but he lied! He urged old Ras al Had to do it! I know him, for did he not try to murder me in the tent of the Bedouin chief?”

“When you had goaded him beyond endurance by your taunts and your threats of whipping and slavery. You thought he would not touch you, because he has wonderful command of his temper; but you found out your mistake when he fastened his hands on your throat.”

“He told you of that? He boasted of it?”

“Never a word of it have I received from him. Brad Buckhart told me.”

“That fellow? Well, what I have in store for him is only second to what shall befall Merriwell. I was not carried into captivity. I am here, and I have struck a blow. The end will come soon.”

“How you escaped I do not know, but – ”

“I will tell you. I know many Turks of influence. I have had dealings with the Turkish secret police, and – ”

“Through your lies the secret police compelled Dick, Brad and Professor Gunn to leave Constantinople,” interrupted Nadia.

The Spaniard smiled in a satisfied manner.

“I think the information I furnished led to their being warned to leave the city,” he bowed. “Let me go on. Knowing a number of Turkish gentlemen of rank, I was able to impress old Ali Beha, the chief of the Bedouins, who had been commanded to sell me into slavery. I saw my only hope was to bribe and frighten the ignorant old chief into releasing me. That was no simple matter, for Ali Beha feared the sheik, Ras al Had. However, all the wires I worked as best I knew how. I talked to Ali Beha and told him how, if my Turkish friends ever learned what had happened, they would be furious and seek to have him punished. I told him that Ras al Had was now an outcast, having slain Hafsa Pasha. I told him he was aiding the accomplices of Ras al Had to escape, which would enrage the sultan when he learned what had taken place. I offered bribes and made promises. Ali Beha seemed immovable, and I was in despair.

“Think of me, a helpless captive, believing I was doomed to slavery in burning Arabia! The thought of such a fate maddened me. I nearly lost my reason. At times I raved and prayed. But through it all I kept saying I would live to be revenged on Dick Merriwell.”

“It was the fate you first devised for him,” said the girl, “and your suffering was your punishment.”

Bunol snapped his fingers.

“Whenever I recovered from those fits of despair,” he continued, “something seemed to whisper in my ear that there was yet hope and that I would not become a slave. I did not know Ali Beha had sent two of his men on fleet horses to Damascus to investigate my statements; but this was what he had done. He waited for those men to return. They came back in time, and they informed him that it was true that Ras al Had had become an outcast, having slain Hafsa Pasha on account of an old score. They also told the sheik that they had found I was known to the Turks I had claimed as my friends.

“Then Ali Beha’s manner toward me underwent a change. I was no longer a captive. He escorted me to the nearest village and set me free. From that village I made all haste to reach the port of Akka, believing Merriwell would take flight from Syria as soon as he could. I did hope he would be detained; but at Akka I soon discovered he had found a way to get off in a steamer for Alexandria. Fortunately for him, news travels slowly in Syria, and the officials had not learned that he was suspected of having something to do with the murder of Hafsa Pasha. Either that was the case, or the Turks, knowing he had not really committed the crime, were willing that he should get away. The latter supposition may be the truth. I confess that I am half inclined to so regard it. Later I will explain why.

“Well, I followed to Alexandria, and from that port I traced Merriwell to Cairo. Arriving at Cairo, I met Medjid Bey. He had been cruising in his own yacht, on which we now are. It happened that I had met Medjid Bey before in Syria, where I did him a special favor, which he had not forgotten. I lost no time in telling him all that had happened in Syria. He was interested. I could not keep watch of you and your friends without running great risks of detection. He agreed to watch you.”

“And he is the man who annoyed me so much!”

“Exactly, my dear. He informed me that you had observed him and grown suspicious of him. While he was watching you we had sent word to Damascus that Merriwell and Buckhart, the two American boys who were present when Hafsa Pasha was slain, had been located in Cairo. We waited for Turkish officials to come to arrest them.

“But I found Merriwell was growing restless. I feared he would somehow learn that I was near. In case he did so learn, it was likely he would take flight. I have had some experience in following him, and I know he is most baffling. He vanishes like a shadow, and he seems to leave no track behind. Besides, my dear, I did not mean to lose you again. Then I finally induced Medjid Bey to carry out a little scheme at the first opportunity. The opportunity came to-day, while you were out walking with your brother. We seized you, and it was our intention to take your brother also, but he fled. Now you know why you are brought here.”

“I don’t know!” cried Nadia passionately. “I don’t understand! What can you hope to accomplish?”

“I can keep Merriwell from taking flight. He will follow you. In Cairo it is dangerous to strike; but in the wild country up the Nile I shall be able to wreak vengeance on him. The very fact that no officers were sent to arrest him made me determine to strike the blow myself. The officers might have reached here ere this, and so I reason that the Turkish government is glad to have him out of the country.”

Nadia regarded the man with increased loathing and hatred.

“In the end you will meet your just deserts!” she cried.

“In the end I will have you, and the enemies I hate shall be swept from the face of the earth. Somewhere up this river the end of the struggle must come. After that, you and I will hasten away to some better land. Your brother shall be spared, and we’ll take him with us. In time you will learn to admire the man who never rested until he had crushed his enemies.”

“Admire you? You are insane to fancy such a thing! I despise you! I loathe you! To me you are like a venomous serpent! Had I ever entertained for you a spark of pity, you have quenched it. Where is this man Medjid Bey? Let me talk to him.”

“As you like,” said Bunol, lifting his eyebrows and shrugging his shoulders. “It will give you no satisfaction. I will send him here.”

Bowing gracefully, he retired from the cabin.

After a moment Nadia started up, a wild light in her eyes. She faltered a bit, then swiftly crossed to leave the cabin. The man she had so often seen watching her in Cairo entered and blocked her path.

“You – you are Medjid Bey?” she breathed.

“That is my name, lady.”

“You own this yacht?”

“The Kayala is mine.”

“Do you know what you are doing?”

“I think so.”

“You are committing a crime! I have never harmed you. I am a helpless girl. You look like a gentleman. I appeal to your manhood, your honor! Before it is too late, turn back and set me free. Have no part in this wicked deed. Bunol has lied to you. He has led you to think he has been wronged. It is false! He is a scoundrel of the blackest dye, and he has committed all the wrongs. My brother is back there in Cairo. He will be distracted. My friends are there. They will be pained. Take me back – please take me back! I beg – I entreat – ”

She fell on her knees, seeking to clasp his hands.

“My dear lady, I beg you rise. It pains me to see you thus distressed.”

“You will listen? You will take me back to my friends?”

“I will take it into consideration. In the meantime do not fear for your personal safety. No harm shall befall you while you are on the Kayala. I give you my word. Do nothing rash, but wait and trust.”

He was anxious to get away, and he bowed low once more, hastening from the cabin.

Nadia fell at full length on the floor.

“Heaven protect me!” she moaned. “He will do nothing, and I am in the power of Miguel Bunol!”

CHAPTER XXIX – THE PURSUIT ON THE RIVER

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.