Angrily, the majestic old man
recalled him. Whereupon, with a sort of animal snarl quite
indescribable, the fellow plucked out a knife! Two men who had
been on the point of seizing him fell back, and:
"Hold him!" shouted Harley, springing forward--"hold him! It's
Ali of Cairo!"
But Harley was too late. Turning, the strange and formidable-
looking Oriental ran like the wind! Ere hand could be raised to
stay him he was through the doorway!
"That settles it," said Harley grimly, as once more I found
myself in a cab beside him. "I was right; but he'll forestall
us!"
"Who will forestall us?" I asked in bewilderment.
"The biggest villain in Europe, Asia, or Africa!" cried my
companion. "I have wasted precious time to-day. I might have
known." He drummed irritably upon his knees. "The place we have
just left is a sort of club, you understand, Knox, and Hakim is
the proprietor or host as well as being an old gentleman of
importance and authority in the Moslem world. I told him of my
suspicions--which step I should have taken earlier--and they were
instantly confirmed. My man was there--recognized me--and
bolted! He'll forestall us."
"But my dear fellow," I said patiently--"who is this man, and
what has he to do with the Deepbrow case?"
"He is the blackest scoundrel breathing!" answered Harley
bitterly.
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