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Dick Merriwell's Pranks Part 43

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The call to prayer had come at a moment most fortunate for Professor Gunn. Instantly d.i.c.k hurried past the confused and trembling old man, hissing in his ear:

"Follow me!"

All around them were the praying Mussulmans, but not one of them put out a hand to stop the disguised foreigners.

Brad followed after d.i.c.k and the professor, thus acting as a sort of rear guard.

Once or twice d.i.c.k looked back to see if Zenas was following. Terror had given the old man strength, and he was not far from the boy's heels.



Even when the devotees of Mohammed fell on their knees and began beating their heads on the ground, the fugitives continued to thread their way amid the half-prostrate figures.

d.i.c.k did not know which way a.s.souan had gone, but he did know it was best for them to get as far as possible from the vicinity of the German hotel.

Of course, he hoped the black servant of Ras al Had would again appear, but he did not linger to look around for him.

They were fortunate in getting out of the thickest of the crowd before the devotees had finished praying.

"That sure was a close call," muttered Buckhart. "I reckoned we were all goners."

"Why didn't you leave me, boys?" asked the professor. "I was keeping silent to give you time to escape."

"What are you talking about?" demanded d.i.c.k resentfully. "I hope you don't think we're that sort!"

"I hope so some myself!" growled the Texan. "Where is that thundering nig-I mean colored gent?"

"He's skipped," said d.i.c.k.

"Hiked and left us to go it alone, eh?" nodded the Texan. "Well, that's a plenty fine!"

"We may find him," suggested Zenas.

"Not likely," said d.i.c.k. "I fancy he thought the jig was up when he saw the crowd fall on you, as he shook the dust of that locality off his feet."

"That will leave us in a beautiful sc.r.a.pe; but we're outside that hotel," said Brad. "It was a close call there, for we barely succeeded in slipping through the fingers of the Turks. How are we going to get out of this dirty old city, d.i.c.k?"

"I can't say," confessed Merriwell.

"Talk about the wild and woolly West!" growled Brad. "Why, since the days of Sam Houston and Davy Crockett there never were such doings in Texas as we've struck right here in this dried-up, outlandish country.

If I ever get back home to tell about these doings, I won't dare to tell, for they sure would lynch me as a liar."

"We're talking too much," said d.i.c.k. "We're attracting attention. Stop talking and keep moving."

He led the way and they followed blindly.

Suddenly, as they turned from one street into another, the most appalling medley of horrible sounds burst upon their ears. It seemed that a hundred human beings were being tortured in the most excruciating manner, and were howling forth their dying agonies. There were yells, screams, roars, and, amid it all, a sort of m.u.f.fled music, as of drums and other instruments.

"Great catamounts!" gasped Buckhart. "We're up against a whole tribe of Injuns at a scalp dance, or I'm mistaken!"

d.i.c.k was startled and filled with wonderment.

"Listen!" he urged.

"Hu, ya Hu! Hu, ya Hu! Hu, ya Hu!"

These were the only words they could distinguish amid that terrible howling.

The professor had been agitated, but now he was the first to recover.

"That cry, 'Hu, ya Hu,' means 'G.o.d, oh G.o.d,'" he explained. "It is the cry of the howling dervishes. Look-there is the open door of a temple, and the sounds come from within. It is shortly after midday prayer on Friday, which is the time for the howlers to do their work."

"Well, of all howling I ever heard, that sure is about the most hair lifting," declared Buckhart.

They were compelled to pa.s.s the open door of the temple or turn back, and they decided to keep on.

As they slipped past, they obtained a peep within the place. They saw a number of dancing, whirling, twisting, writhing men within, apparently in a perfect frenzy-stamping their feet on the floor and yelling madly, their lips covered with foam and their eyes closed. Others were stretched p.r.o.ne on the floor. Some were sitting about beating on drums and playing queer instruments.

That was all they saw, for they dared not linger to look into the place, had they so desired.

They had not proceeded much farther when Buckhart stopped, a look of gloom in his eyes.

"Whatever are we going to do?" he inquired.

"We must get out of the city just as fast as we can," declared Gunn. "By this time it must be known that we escaped from the hotel and how we escaped."

"That's a fact," nodded d.i.c.k.

"But we can't leave the city without Nadia and her brother," protested Brad. "We can't leave them here in this nest of crazy fools, to be butchered!"

"We must leave them to a.s.souan," said Merriwell. "I believe he will get them out of Damascus."

"I don't know about that-I doubt it! He skipped in a hurry to save his own black head."

"For which we cannot blame him greatly. What have we done that he should risk his life as far as he did for us?"

"Why, we sort of resuscitated his old master when the whole bunch thought him killed."

"And for that Ras al Had sent a.s.souan back into Damascus, with instructions to aid us in escaping from the city, if possible. a.s.souan stuck by us longer than I thought he would. But after he left us it is probable he hurried to Nadia and Budthorne and guided them out of the city."

"Mebbe so," muttered Brad; "but I doubt it. I shan't be for hiking out until I feel sure Nadia's not waiting for us somewhere."

"Unless we make all haste in escaping," said the professor, "we shall not escape at all."

"Why not?"

"As I said before, by this time it must be known that we escaped from the hotel in disguise."

"Why?"

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