Evening Star Newspaper, May 18, 1930, Page 86

She Had Many Suitors, but the One She Loved Was Outlawed — And the Story Will Hold You to the Very Last Word. § el 1 LM it B E-?;% 4 T H :ezEé %éségzsié%g!ii?é&f H ii&igiz scented rose-red and elfin-green; bare-legged, ruffianly desert men, lean shoulders folds of camel’s wool; three Mongol glan PYou wish to sell it?” “No. I wish to use it.” “The Grand Khan needs soldiers.” “And it is?” “The quarter of the Hindus.” “The unbelievers,” added Mehmet. “Ah, bless them not, the Lord Allah!” “It seems, on the contrary,” smiled the Turkoman, “that the lLord Allah has most singularly blessed the Hindus of Samarkand— blessed them with golden riches.” “Theére is a fidget in my swordarm,” eame THE SUNDAY STAR, WASHINGTON, D. €, WAY ® 10 Thaemc.‘denu;ream,c heave—and Mehmet's great body soaring up, above Grigori’'s head. Mehmet’s remark, “which tells me I shall help myself to my fair share.” He gave a broad wink. The stranger did likewise—then suddenly hs wxclaimed: “I like you!” “You do?” “Enormously! You are a man after my own heart!” “Nowhere—east, south, mnorth, west—lives there my equal in either,” sald Mehmet negli- gently. “Except myself!” The other embraced him— exclaimed : | ! i tune. “I am now on my way to Bokhars %o spend the money.” . N hour later Mehmet reached the the Hindus. Very much like the bran to be picked by the little brown hen!” “Maybe s0,” rumbled Haridas the tailor. “But not often can I pick up such gorgeous Persian brocade as I had to cut into a burnoose for that bullying Turkoman.” “May his beard be disgraced!” sighed Chat- trapati, the fruiterer. “Me he robbed, and many others, But what could we do? He flashed the grand visier's signet' ring—in proof of the grand vizier's trust.” “It 18 wise to bow to the monkey who is in power,” counseled the priest; while Pratap Singh, the goldsmith, said that he had his doubts about the ring, that it had seemed. too new, too shiny. “A forgery, you think?” “I am not sure. But I suspect.” “Why did you not warn us?” demanded Sri Madho the grocer, a man younger, therefore ’I‘nn!,dmm‘uunothm(ehchml do, and since, moreover, he was as hungry as & wolf, he entered the guest room, where he ate coplously—so copiously that his good humor and later on, surrounded by some of his hosts, he sat there, entertaining them far into the night with tales about his prowess. He borrowed somebody’s pipe, filled it with somebody else’s tobacco, spoke grandiosely: “It is known to all the world that it was X given away! when I battled the copper-faced Manchu giant, and how: 43 “Listen!” a volce cut in. “Have you ever heard that the drum which booms most loudly is filled with wind?” With a roar he was up. His hand reached for sword-hilt—dropped away when he saw the speaker. For it was Padmavati, the aksakail’s daughter, and you might have sought throughe out High Tartary for a handsomer maid and mot found her. “Had you been a man,” he replied, “there He walked up to her. “Your locks are storm-dark as the parting of friends, and your smile bright as the noon when friends meet again. And as to your eyes ~by my honor, the moon shines in them— MEHMET THE RED—ByAchmed Abdullak — - ‘ t TAZ than one of them had spoken to Padmavati of Jove, had asked her hand in marriage. She blushed. “I hate you!” she oried, and rushed out, while Mehmet resumed the tale of his prowess: i Gt “Heart of me! Dear, dear heart of me!” He was curious, uneasy—seemed to recognise the voice, and he crept toward the left. He reached the shelter of a large spruce tree— saw, in a clearing, a human figure. No. Two human figures. A man—and