It was tilted on the side of the road in a way that
suggested a broken wheel, and a man was holding two ponies which had
been taken out of the traces.
Abdullah pulled his steed almost on to its haunches, so suddenly did he
draw rein. He pushed close to the horse-tender, a Somali, and a fierce
dialogue broke out, which ended in the wrathful statement to Royson:
"This son of a slave says that this is not the carriage which passed me
in the bazaar. I believe he is lying, but what can I do?"
Dick, meanwhile, had ascertained that the conveyance was empty. His
gorge rose at the thought that Irene might be near him at that moment,
yet prevented by some ruffian from making known her presence. The
belief was torturing; it impelled him to a deed which, in calmer mood,
he would have declared foreign to his nature.
Handing Moti to Abdullah's care, he went so near to the driver, a man
of powerful build, that he could look into his sullen face. With a
quickness born of many a bout with the gloves, he seized the Somali by
the wrists, causing him to let go the ponies' bridles.
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