He surveyed his position coolly, and took his stand in the shadow
of a mass of granite close to whose base the track wound up the
hillside. In case the unexpected happened, he fastened his camel to a
loose stone behind the rock, and the poor animal knelt instantly,
thinking that a night's rest was vouchsafed at last. Dick threw off the
Arab robes he had worn since Abdur Kad'r and he climbed the hill
overlooking Suleiman's Well. He opened and closed the breech of his
heavy double-barreled Express rifle to make sure that the sand clouds
had not clogged its mechanism, and fingered the cartridges in his
cross-belt.
Then he waited. It would take the Hadendowas fully five minutes to come
up with him, and he experienced a feeling akin to astonishment that he
could bide his time so patiently, without any pang of anxiety, or hope,
or agonizing misgiving. He thought of Irene, but only of her welfare.
If he were not brought down by a chance bullet early in the fray, he
felt quite certain of being able to stave off the final rush long
enough to give Abdur Kad'r a breathing spell, he had sufficient
confidence in that wily old Arab's resources to believe that he would
outwit his pursuers, provided they lost a good deal of time in passing
this barrier.
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