Captured by the Arabs. Foster James H.

these crooks. They may come on to him for the map, since they found that we haven’t it.”

      First, however, the boys’ fathers and Dr. Kirshner wished to breakfast.

      “And while they’re busy eating, suppose we go out,” suggested Joe. “We don’t need to stay but a few minutes.”

      Bob agreed. He, like his friend, was anxious to observe the strangeness of this unusual city. If what he had heard was true, it would be something to be long remembered.

      Out on the street the youths were at once impressed by the wide variety of races and costumes. Frenchmen, Italians, Spaniards, Mahonese, and Maltese all walked side by side, the majority in European garb. Arabs, or rather those who are commonly called Arabs, for they are a very mixed breed, sauntered along, clad in their long gowns and hlafa, which hung down over the face and sides of the head. Occasionally a Negro could be seen, although this was the exception rather than the rule.

      “Sure have variety here,” smiled Joe. “There’s about every race imaginable present.”

      In a short time the youths reached the Place du Gouvernement, or central square, and the busy scene of life was very interesting. On one side of the forum was the Mosque of Djema-el-Djedid and the Grand Mosquée, and on the others were stores, hotels, and cafés. Stretching away in the distance were the four great streets of the city.

      Bob and Joe spent some time in one position, watching the throng of Arabs, soldiers, Jews, and others peculiar to this metropolis. Strange, the boys thought, that the people paid little or no attention to them. But this was probably due to the fact that hundreds of tourists visit the city each year.

      “I’d like to visit some of the stores,” remarked Bob. “But we’d better get back to the hotel.”

      “Yes. Our dads and Dr. Kirshner will probably be waiting for us.”

      Reluctantly they made their way back and found that the scientists were ready to leave for the Arab friend’s hotel.

      “We’ll trust that we’ll find him in his room, or in the lobby,” said Mr. Holton, as he and the others followed Dr. Kirshner.

      “He’ll probably be there,” returned the archæologist. “He’s expecting us over this morning to talk over the best procedure to find the hidden treasure.”

      The hotel in which the Arab was staying was but a short distance up the street and around the corner. The explorers were barely within sight of the building when a figure rushed madly out of the door and came toward them.

      “Something the matter with that fellow?” asked Bob, surprised to see such haste from the native.

      “Looks that way,” returned Mr. Holton. “He’s – By George! It’s our Arab friend. Wonder what has happened?”

      A moment later the man was up to them, his face white, his hands trembling.

      “The treasure map!” he cried in poor English. “It is gone!”

      CHAPTER III

      A Villainous Deed

      AT the Arab’s dread remark it seemed for a moment that the explorers were going to sink through the street. Dr. Kirshner reeled, and the perspiration came out on Mr. Holton’s face. Mr. Lewis and the boys were spellbound.

      Gone! Hundreds of dollars – yes, thousands. After all this anticipating the good fortune of finding the supposedly hidden treasure. The explorers could hardly believe it.

      At last Dr. Kirshner got a grip on himself.

      “Do you have any idea where the thieves went?” he asked of the Arab, whose name was Fekmah.

      “No,” was the reply. “They have complete disappeared. I try see where they go, but could not. They gone when I got to my room.”

      “When did you first notice that the map had been taken?” inquired Bob in an anxious voice.

      “No more than ten minutes ago,” Fekmah answered. “I had gone out to stay but a moment, and when came back to my room the door open and map gone. I run around to back and look out, but they gone.”

      “Gone!” echoed Mr. Lewis. “We should have warned Fekmah to be on the lookout. If Bob and Joe had discovered the suspicious actions of the rascals sooner, it would have given us time to do so. But the fact that nothing strange was noticed till the night we were to reach port gave us no time to tell it.”

      “So you knew?” asked the Arab friend. “You knew that robbers were after the map?”

      Dr. Kirshner nodded.

      “They broke into our rooms this morning, but when they couldn’t find the map they left without taking anything else,” he said. “We were just going over to warn you to be on the lookout and guard the map closely when we saw you.”

      The Arab scowled and gritted his teeth.

      “Allah curse them!” he exclaimed, vexed all the more because of almost but not quite knowing in time. “It’s too late now to find them, and they prob’ly gone by now.”

      “Gone where?” asked Mr. Holton.

      Fekmah spread his hands apart in a wide gesture and then pointed to the south.

      “To get treasure,” he said quietly.

      “Then we’ll get there first!” exclaimed Dr. Kirshner. “No thieves will get ahead of us. I think it might be well to start on the journey at once – that is, if you can go that soon,” he said to the Arab, who nodded.

      “But how will we know where to go without the map?” asked Mr. Lewis.

      “I have general idea,” Fekmah returned. “I studied it so much that know about where go. And I can leave any time.”

      “Fine!” blurted out Dr. Kirshner. “We’ll get our belongings together and leave tomorrow. But first let me introduce my friends. I don’t believe you’re acquainted with them,” and he proceeded to introduce the Arab to Mr. Holton, Mr. Lewis, and Bob and Joe.

      “Now let us all come up to my room,” said Fekmah. “We can talk over plans for the treasure search. There are much things you should know.”

      They walked on up the street to a comparatively large building and were led in the door and up the stairs by Fekmah.

      “So this is the hotel where he’s staying,” said Bob, casting eager eyes about the place.

      “Sure is luxurious,” remarked Joe. “It’s the best in town.”

      The Arab’s room was halfway down the hall, and to it they went.

      “Now sit down,” directed Fekmah, “and we will talk things over.”

      They did so and then made ready for what the Arab had to say.

      There was a short silence. Then Fekmah resumed the conversation.

      “Like Dr. Kirshner said, we should leave at once if expect to find the hidden riches before the thieves get ahead of us,” he began, showing an unusual ability to speak English correctly. “There are two routes we can take to get to the edge of the desert. We can take the railroad to Oran and then to Figuig, or can get on train to Wargla.” He moved over to a small satchel and took out a cloth map, which he unfolded and laid on a small table that was in the middle of the room. The map was French, and although the naturalists and their sons had a slight knowledge of that language, Dr. Kirshner and Fekmah were the only ones who knew it thoroughly.

      “I think we can make out enough to satisfy ourselves, though,” said Mr. Holton.

      The Arab traced the one route and then the other, pointing out the possibilities of each one. The object was to take a train to the farthest point in the desert possible and start the expedition from there on camelback.

      “Now,” continued Fekmah, “our destination is the Ahaggar Mountains. They are about seventeen hundred kilometers (about a thousand miles) from here. From what we measured, the best route is to go to Wargla and get camels from