The evening world. Newspaper, September 3, 1915, Page 11

AR ep a American ee eke CHAPTER ee 7 te te mers Taber, author comin Manos has be come + witinr of the Lagtom Me Welle Max ble Gory set ashe cid Max i promoted to ponent om, Th Meta an -_ Oo wating om we ont ee ade Sente we mary tim set continue the jrarees os ble wile = Max, ot Bande’s ourmey, deere trom Ue legion, to in We etyetiion. Manton ent ents, divetiy efter the marriage, Guerre over Ahmam, whe bas come wniorited te Mentee’s comp, Abuare wie te make Manton below of Mas. > CHAPTER XI. (Con tinued) The Only Friend. N the following night they came to the oasis of which she had spoken, It was called Dardal, and lay be- tween two danger sones. ‘The first of these—danger from man —was practically passed at Dardal, Stanton calculated, aod knew that —_ he had been lucky to bring his caravan through the land of the Touaregs (which he had risked rather than face almost certain death along the shorter, more northern way of Tripolitania), with only a few 7) thefts from marauders and no lose of life by violence, Perhaps the formi- dable size of the caravan and the arms . carried hag been its protec- vion rather than the repute of tts eader, but Stanton took the credit to himself. He told himself that, after all, he nad triumphed over difficulties as no vther man tn his place could have Jone, It was monstrous and inered- ible that the spirit of the caravan should have turned against him. He sald this over and over, but in his heart he knew that he had lost pres- tee through faults in his own nature and because of mistakes he had made ever since the bad beginning. He knew that, although he had brought his followers through the first dan- ger zone without too many aceldents, the second fone, the uncharted zone of Libyan desert which stretched be- fore them now, had ten times more of danger in it than the zone of dan- ger from men. Whiskey could not chase away his gloom that night when he had come to camp from the Rouse of the sheikh who had emertained him at dinner in the vil- lage, and to whom he had given val- uable presents in exchange for help expected. But if the liquor could not cheer him it made him conscious of Me own bulldog tenacity. “Tl show the ungrateful devils who te master,” he thought, as he looked ‘out from his tent door to the glow of the fire round which his men had been watching some naked mal @anoers of Dardat. The dancers had gone, but the watchers had not yet moved, They were talking together more quietly than usual, in groups. Stanton wondered what they were saying, and he stared, frowning, over their heads toward the east, where lay the Libyan desert. They were practically out of the Sahara now. ‘As be gazed, Ahmara came fitting across @ moonlit space of sand that lay like a etiver lake between the tent and the rest of the camp. “Thou art back, O master of my heart, from thy visit to the sheikh,” she said. “Did it pass off well?” “Well enough,” Stanton answered mechanically, For the moment he was indifferent to Ahmara, though her strange face was tragically beautiful. In the pale light the figure of Max St. George became suddenly visible to * him, It moved out from behind the tents and walked over to the fire Stanton, on a quick impulse, called out to Max harshly: “Come here, St you; hurry up! Ahmara slipped behind Stanton, who took a step forward, and, a he forgot her, she darted into his tent, CHAPTER XII. Sanda Speaks. a Peel George! I want o give Stanton f@ pretext to send him away, sake, never | He kept his temper under provocations almost inteler- able, and now he obeyed the truculent summons, “What do you want?" he asked stiffly when he had come near enough fo speak in an ordinary tone, “L'il tell you inside my tent,” the explorer answered, stalking in first and leaving his uest to follow. Btan- ton was somewhat surprised to see Ahmara sitting on her feet, her ringed hands on her knees, her, crowned ead thrown kk against the canvas \ wall, but .. tt whole he was not Fi 8 The Wer Romance of an ~~ The Evening World Daily Magazine. Friday, September 3. in Algiers sorry that #he was there, @he might be werful He only emilee sarcaet cally when, at eibt of ber, Ma flor ped on the threshold, “Don't be a! te come tn.” @tar ton laughed; “the Indy won't mina” | curt politeness of tone Stenton, “TM wtand bere, if you Please” | “All Fight. My orgere won't take| jong to give. 3 ‘e tent?” Man's eyes sent @ epark io the dull yellow Light. “My wife's tent, then, if you think we More appropriate. 1 be- eve she's likely to favor you as mebsenger, and she basn't gone tol bed, for her tent’s lit up Tell her, from me, 1 it subverdive of disci pine ip this caravan fr & woman to set ber Will up agalret the jeader end live apart from husband Entirely for that reason and pot be- cause I want anything to do with her, after the way I'v» been treated, I've made up my mince, that she and J ther like other married the change to be made | with the knowledge of the whoie caravan, Go and wil her to come here, and then giv: my orders to Mahmoud and Zaid to bring anything | over she may need.” If eyes could kill, Htanton would have droppéd like a felled ox. But Max would not give him (the satisfan- tion of @ blow or even of a word. With « look of disgust such as he might have thrown at « wallowing drunkard in @ gutter, Bt Georg turned his back on the explorer and walked away. Before |» could esvape out of earshot, however, the Chief was bawling Instructions to Ahmara, “Since that fellow is above taking a message, go, you, and deliver ith’ roared Stanton, repeating in Arabio the orders Mung at Max. “Her iady- ship knows enough of your ianguage to understand, Say to ber if she Isn't at my tent door ip ten minutes I'll feteb ber, She won't like that.” Max had not meaut to go near Sanda, but fearing insult for her from the Arab woman he changed his! mind and put himself between Abma- ra and Sanda's tent. As the tall fig- ure in its full white robes came float-/ ing toward him tm the mvonlignt, he blocked the way. But the dancer did not (ry to pass. She paused and whis- | pered sharply: “Thinkest thou I want the girl to go to him? No, I'g kill her sooner, But he is watching. Let me only tell her to beware of him. If she is out of her tent when he searches, what can be do? And by to-morrow night I shall have had time to make him change bis mind,’ “You shan't speak to Mra, Stanton if I can help it,’ id Max. “Besides, I won't trust you near her, You're a #he-devil and capable of anything. ‘Speak to her at the door thyself, if thou art afraid my breath will wither thy frail flower,” Ahmara sneered. “Tell her to escape quickly into the shadows of the oasis, for the master will not care to lose his dignity in hunting her. As for thee, thou canst run to guard her from harm, as thou hast done before when she wandered, and I will carry word to the Chief that the White Moon refuses to shine for him. In ten minutes he will set out to fetch her, according to his word; but when he finds her tent empty he will return to his own with Ahmara, I promise thee, to plan some way of punishment, Shelter thy flower from that also if thou canst, for it may not be to my interest to counsel thee then, as it 1s now.” Max turned from the dancer with- out replying, and she hovered near while he spoke at the door of Banda’s tent, within which the light had now The toes had pressed in deeply, while the heelprints were invisible after the first three or four. As soon as she was out of the tent, Sanda ha started to run, She had gone away from the direction of the dying fire, in front of which the men of the ca: avan still squatted, and had taken the track that led toward the oasis. ‘There was a narrow strip of desert to be crossed, and then a sudden des- cent over rocks, down to an oued or river bed, which gave water to the mud village high up on the other side. This was the way the oasis dwellers had taken after a visit of curtosity to the camp; and as the night was bright and not cold, some might still be lHngering in the oued, bathing their feet in the little stream of running water among the smooth, round stones. Max followed the foot- prints, but lost them on the rocks, and would have passed Sanda if a voice had not called him softly. The girl had found @ seat for her- welf in deep shadow on a small plateau between two jutting masses of sandstone, “I eaw you,” she said as he stopped. “1 wondered if you would come ai look for me," “Weren't you eure?” he asked. “When I found the tent pegs up, I knew you'd gone, and | followed the gone out. footprints, because it's not safe for “Mrs, Stanton!” he called in a low you to be out in the night alone.” voloe: ra, Stanton!" “Safer than in my tent, if he"—— she began breathlessly, then ohecked herself in haste, She was ailent for a minute, looking up at Max, who had come to @ stand on the edge of her little platform, Then, for the first time since she had begged him to join the caravan instead of going back to Bel-Abbes, she broke down and cried Sanda did not answer, and he called for the third time, raising hts voice tly, yet not enough for Stanton to hear at his distance, Still all was silence inside the tent, though It was not five minutes since the light had been extingulshed, and anda could hardly have fallen asleep. Could she Wave heard what he and bitterly. Ahmara were saying, he wondered. p ‘What am I to do, Soldier?” she Tt was just possible, for he had sinned, “You know—I never told you stepped close to the tent in barring anything, but—you know how it is the dancer away from it, If Sanda & had heard hurrying footsteps and ba or a voices she might have peeped now,” ond Mam “lve been always hoping I should die somehow, and—and that would make an end,” the girl wept, “Other people have died since we have through the canvas flaps, and, having made an aperture, it would have been easy to catch a few words of Ah- mara's excited whispers. rhaps she took the hint and has wiasved) Pi ea Ae Pt Bax (aout and an iomiant mners 000. mB Ue e oe Ont ured mimseit tnat sne nad done #0, for the pegs at the back of the tent had been pulled out of the sand, The bird had flown, but Max feared that it might only be from one danger to another, In spite of the friendly reception given to the cara- van at Dardal, a young woman stray ing from camp into the oasis would not be safe for an instant if seen, and in the desert beyond Sanda might be terrified by Jackals or hyenas, Bending down Max saw,among the larger tracks made by himself and the men who had helped him piteh the tent, small footprints in the sand; marks of little shoes which could bave been worn by nobody but Sanda. A ai Soldier, you never let me die!" “I don't mean to!" Max tried to force a ring of cheerfulness into his voice, though black despair filled his heart, “You've got to live for—your father.” “I hope I shall never see him again!’ she cried sharply, ‘He'd know the inatant he looked into my eyes that I was unhappy. I couldn't bear it. Oh, Soldier, if only I had let you take me back when you begged to, even as late as that morning—be- fore Father Dupre came out from Touggourt. But it makes thin, worse to think of that now+-of what might have been!” Jou APOLO 2 IN THE YYOuR SHIRT > wt tte wes JOHN | | HOW DARE YOu ( COME INTO te PARLOR \ S \_ WITHOUT A SHIRT ‘ ee \ AREN'T ‘You ASHANED TO APPEAR tn he PRESENCE OF LADIES IN THAT CoSTUNE. GO AND PUT ON SOME CLOTHES, WE ARE Going 16 THE REACH, SHANE on You | —_ —————— DID You E FoR APPEARING RLOR WITHOUT iz “Let's think of what will be, when we get through to Egypt,” Max en- couraged her, “I don't want to get through, The reat of you, yes, but not I! Soldier, what am I to do if he tries to make— if he won't let me go on living now emotion thrill through her body, She started, or shivered, and thi gers lying Ughtly em his coat & tightened, answer, ‘The girl was standing with slightly lifted face, her eyes closed, aa if behind the shut lids she saw some alone?” vision, 4 - “Sanda!” he breathed, It was the Ho shall let you,” said Max be- fyi time he had called her by that tween his teeth, “You mean that you—but that would be the worst thing of all, if you quarrelied with him about me, You've been so wonderful. Don't you think I've seen?” Max's heart leaped. What had ske seen? His love, or only the acts It name, though always in his thoughts she was Sanda. “You're frightening “Hush!" she said, “1 am remem- bering a dream; you and I in the desert together, and you saving me from soine danger, 1 never found out what, because | woke up too soon, Just now it was as if @ voice told me this was the place of the dream.” prompted? What caused Max to tear his eyes “Don't be afraid, that's all,” he from the rapt, white face of the girl at said. His voice shook a little, As her that instant and look at the sand he did not know, But he seemed com- d to look. Something mot plowe: Sanda's feet; something thin and long and very flat, like a piece of rope pulled quickly toward her by an wi seen band. Max did not stop to wonder what it was, He swooped on it and seized the viper’s neck between thumb and finger and snapped its spi before it had time to strike Sanda's ankle with its poisoned fang, But not before it had time to strike him, ‘The keen pin-prick caught him in the ball of the thumb, It did not hurt much, but Max knew It meant death if the polgon found a vein; and he did not want (o die and leave Sanda alone with Stanton. Fiinging the dead viper off, he whipped the knife in his belt from its sheath and with its sharp blade silt through the skin deep into the flesh, A slight giddiness mounted like the fumes from a@ stale wine-vat to his head as he cut down to the bone and hacked off @ bleeding slice of his right hand, then cauterized the wound with the flame of mateh; but he was hardly consolous of the pain in the desperate desire to save @ life neces- sary to Sanda. It was of her he thought then, not of himself at all as an enuty wishing to live for tts own & re or profit; and he was dimly conscious, as the blood face leaned out of the shadow look- ing up to him, lily pale under the moon, he feared her sweetness in the night, feared that it might break down such strength as he had and make him betray bis secret. How he would hate himself afterward, if in a mad moment be blurted out his love for this pvor child who so needed a faithful friend! in terror of himself he burried on. “Better let me take you back now,” ho suggested almost barshly, “You can't stay bere all night.” “Why can't 17” “Because—it'a best not, I'll walk with you as far ag the camels and then drop bebind—not too fur off to be at band if anything disturbs you. Did you hear all the woman sald to me?" ‘About his looking into my tent and then going back to his own—that she'd promise he should go back’ Yes, 1 listened before I ran away, Those were the last words | waited for.” , spurted from his hand, of hoping that Max was glad she had not overboard ida did not see. He would have told the threat of future punishment, her not to look, but the need to act was Well, then, your tent will be safe.” too ressing to give time for Keres r ” “Safe fro Neither he nor she had uttered a ‘Bafor” she echoed. “Safe from him oa tince hiadash for the viper had from my hero! What fools girls Can ghaken her clinging Ahgers from his be! But perhaps there was never one arin; and it Was only when the go foolish as I. It seems agons since olsoned flesh and the burnt match had Twas that person—that nappy, wily Sn could glance at Ue Bit person, Weil! It doesn't bear tuink- When he did turn his eyes to her, ing of, much less talking aout; and It, hg with ponsed RnIORT., en ue afraid he had made her faint if she T nover did talk before, did 1? We'll tag ween tho aight; luckily, though, go back, since you say we must, But piood wasn't quite so horrid by moon- not to my tent. I'd rather ait by the lizit as by day. fire all ntgut, if the inen have gone | ""l'm sorry!" he wtanmered. But Zhe. the words died on his lips. e was hen we et there, After dawn I cau joking straight at him with wonder. rest, a8 we're nof to travel to-mor fu, transtiguring look. Many fleeting row.’ xpressions he had seen on tha face She held out both hands to be of his adoration, but never anything helped up from her low seat, and like this, He did not dare to think Max fought down the impulse to he could read it, crush the slender white creature “Have you give against his breast, Siowly they this time?” sie as in @ strange, waiked back over the rocks and deadly quiet tone through the moon-white and, until No, no, I shall be all right now they could see not only the glow of I've got rid of the poison,” he an= the fire but the smouldering remnants swered. “I'll bind my hand up with of palm trunks, Dark, squatting fig- this handkerchief" ures were still silhouetted against the — "I'll bind tt," she cut him short; and ruddy light, and Sanda paused to con- taking the ‘handkerehief from hina sider what she should do. She stopped she tore It quickly into strips, Then Max also, with a hand on his arm, with practiced skill she bandaged the “It's a wonderful picture, or would wound. ‘at must do till we got to be if one were happy!” she muttered; my tent," she told him, “There lve and then Max could feel some sudden lint and real bandages that I use for SHOCKING! ‘ taal ( “What is it? he asked, but got no | \ SHocking 1) ) S the men whi and I'll spo. infectant. Soldier, they hurt themselves, your hand with dis- But, my Soldier, my poor how can {t boar it if you e me? Yon won't, will you?” Not if 1 can possibly belp it,” said Max, “How soon can we be sure that you've cut all the poison out?" “In a few minutes, 1 think.” “And if you haven't, It's—death?” “1 can't let myself dle, claimed, “It's for my sake you care like that, I know!" Sanda said. “And I can let you die~anyhow, without telling you something firet. Does the poison, if you've got it in you, kill very quickly?" “It does, rather,” Max adinitted still apologeticall id » because he coul not bear to hi Sanda suffer for him, “But It's @ painiess sort of an nd, not a bad one, if it wasn't for-- jl 4 “For leaving me alone. 1 1. der- stand. And because you may have to —very goon, though I pray not—I shall tell you what I never would have told you except for this, Only, {f you get well, you must promise not to speak of it to me—nor even to seem to remember; a@nd truly to for- get, If you can.” I promise,” Max sald. It’s this: I know you care for me, Max, and I care for you, too, dearly, dearly. All the love I had ready for Richard flowed away from him, Ike a river whose course had ‘been changed in a night by a tremendous mock of earthquake, Gradually It turned toward you. You won it, You deserve it. I should be a wretch—L shouldn't be natural tf I didn’t love you! That's all I had to tell. £ couldn't let you go without knowing, And if you do go, T shall follow you foon, because I couldn't live through a day more of my awful life without you.”” ‘Now I know that I can't die!” Max's volee rang out. “If there was poison in my blood, it's killed with the Joy of what you've sald to me." “Joy!” Sanda echoed, ‘There can he no fov for us in loving each other, only sorrow.” “There's joy in love ttaelf,” Max. ‘Just In knowing.” “Though we're never to speak of tt no ven though we're never to "peak sald of It again.” So they came to Sanda's tent. And Stanton, sitting in his open doorway, saw them arrive together, With great strides he crossed the strip of desert between the two tents and thrust his red face close to the blanched face of Max. His eves spoke the ugly thing that was in his mind hefore his lips could utter ft, But Sanda gave him no time for words that would be unforgtvable. with a hint of pr her voice that Max had never heard from her, It forbade doubt and rang clear with courage, "Mc Bt Georee wos afraid form amet bring me back: On the way he killed a viper that would have bitten mo and was bitten himself, He has cut out the flesh round the wound and cnuterized it, and he will live, please God, with eare and rest.” Taken sbne v tho ohatlenetne alr of one who usually shrank from him Btanton was silence Banda's words and manner carried convict Ant even before she spoke he had failed in goading himself to believe evil Drunk, he had for the moment lost all instincts of a gentleman; but, though somehow the Impulse to in sult Sanda was beaten down, the wish to punish her survived, Max's wound re etn ns “_ ernrrnner MEAT WELK'S COMPLETE iThe Avengers By HBADON HILL Se the fever sure to follow, i be en vonge «6 buth lagether, © OK ap Pwd Wy the WO) 1 Bi todos, 1 vmored ihe re ere et , hoe Oe eatnuny over tae Puen MEneUs men were to stop Uli to-mor- od fet! Bande provesied We chanted my wind We don't need We ree. te Bre bourse we shal be on the marek No!” orhe eande “You want to kil my omy Oe but you shan not You KOoW (hat reel we his one chance, diane away i fwont be 140 aye here, aud | olay with Siay ead ve cursed,” Stanton Pied The men K by the distant fire the aoery Foar, anu som jumped to tunr feet, expecting ear om play and be cursed, and may the Vultures pick tue ten ail ber weight and, snatening heavy campstool on which he had been sitting jwith it on the mad Weakened al- ready by the anguish in the torn herves of lis hand (moat painful centre for & wound in all the body), Mas fell like @ jog, and lay une « sus While Almara wriggied ber- | Molt free, | “He asked for that, got aid Blanton Knees, Blanton threw the eampatool juto the tent and yelled to the men by the tire, He caiied the names of two who were his special servants, but most of the wand followed, knowing from the roar of rage and the one ¢! | sharp ory in a woman's | something important had happened, Stanton was glad when he saw the dark crowd troop toward him, though |in his first flush of excitement he | had not thought to summon every one, Come on, all of yout" he shouted. Where he belongs. He was my trusted lieutenant, but ht , took too much upon himself. I knock him down for tnsubordination, voloe that And we start In five hours, Mahmoud, put this carrion out of my sight. I've shown you all what happens when black or white men disobey my orders.” No one came forward, knees beside Max Sanda rose up ell and straight and stood facing the Arabs and negroes, “Men,” she cried to done my best for you, I've defended you, when J could, from injusttes When you have been sick with feve: or with wounds I have nursed you. Now my father’s friend, and my friend, who t ight has saved my life, Iles wounded. If you leave him, you leave me, too, for I sti nurse. What do you decid Stanton was at her si in two strides, Seizing her arm he twisted it with a savage wrench and flung her tottering behind hi Th forced a ery from t¢! Ahmara laughed, was than the men could stand, them Handa was always the White Angel, Ahmara the Black; and over there by the fire they had discussed @ deputation to Stanton, announcing that, since starting, they had heard her m them, “I've too much evil of the haunted Libyan $4 desert to dare waterless wastes, ‘The spirit of mutiny was tn them, having smouldered and flashed uj amouldered and flashed again at Stan- This was too much! fired. A Senegal whom Sanda oured of a scorpion bite--a black giant to whom Max had lent his camel when Stanton would have left him in the desert—leaped like a tiger on the Chief. Steel flashed under the moon, and Stanton fell back without @ groan, striking the hard sand and staining It red. For an instant there was silence. ‘Then burst forth a wild shout of hate and joy. venture across its CHAPTER XIil. Out of the Dream, a Plan. to pieces by the men he had cursed and beaten, Ahmara | had fled to Dardat to live as she could by her beauty; and the murderers, taking with them, in @ rage of haste and terror, camels, water and provi- sions, had disappeared, The caravan of the great explorer had vanished like a mirage; and the Lost Oasis lay hidden forever from despolling eyes and hande tn the uncharted Libyan desert. At dawn Sanda sat beside Max in his tent, where two of the few men vyho remained had carried him. hrough the hideous hours he had lain as one dead, But light, touching bis eyelids, waked him with a shud- dering start, "You!" he whispered, had horrible dreams.” “Only dreams,” she soothed him, “How pale you ar He stared at her, still half dazed. “Perhaps it's the light.” “No, it’s not the light. I remember now, * © © What happened after he--1 “Tl tell you when you're stronge: m strong enough for anything, Only a little odd in my head.” “And your poor wounded hand? I bathed It and bandaged it again, and you never knew.” “Queer! 1 thought if I were dead I should bave known if you touched “Safe! I've ese had been TANTON was dead, hacked ¥ 7 mel” He apoke more to iment te Bends aod ahe OM tn Mie eyelids Groped, and ont agen, Hours be wens, che Wan wtih there, to the girl that the world to pirone, leering ont an in the rune A lay the vast demert whence (hey bad come wae bie To a on seemed equally possible, “There whe nowbere we Mut tuey wore Logeiner, that Goibing Could part bot Hf, and even inen deal Could we Be Tuure, Bvery! come Wo @ standelill, abd t gh as weil be out of their it “ifs rei ir nGal i i ! : a. (hal bad Rappened. one, Whose orolner Btab for pufering, & montu abued stanton tae eam, aid iy others in blood-mad 4 rushed to tuleh bia work ie had run wei (he village, and tue ten, wull ie . ness, bad Blown (he camels and Bune OF (tO (he desert) BOL Lhe munMOrers uly, Dal Ler friends Who saw Ue. that saw Hichard Banton die, Two # ine at aravan more ago, when Fouggourl ners ‘e men Wao wa that time werted and ® few bad died, Now ail had Gown except a dozen of the old ent and Most responsive who refused to be carried away by thelr egi- sions. untouched There was in Btanton's of Buroj money tent, ry alpo, and some bales pean ‘> clocks and musical boxva, whieh tho explorer had brought as 101 native rulers, The ques! What was to bé done? they might on, net trying to oress the Libya it te the direo ot Assouan, as Blanton had to do, but skirt southward by a longer route where the was ted and oases existed. “ ged ff seventy ain * y hight hope to “ind way then “eoross the file te Lat intention pee e murder, x that It waa re- to Tor ye he had to deserter, E ie 2! elect? 5 “More than we've come with great caravan! It’s not “It must be possible!” @ald “We'll make tt possible.” deantttly oe 0 Tala Rao never Geen, ry fr thin, would tell about boxes and bales temptation virtuot who were left, for the plorer, would be too 2g i FE £ i i & f fy 2 i i 4 : ‘e? - if if J g 3 & E = = BB i é i: Fe $3 5 2 é 8 Ls Es i Then folk ade en follow wy rt dream, ‘Bore and some were ood, evor be forgotten, Fd wee dreama come ever apoke of the waking or Sutera, the seldom out “TL can't nes. et he did not see ho should be able, in justice to the cir to keep her. In British territo would be safe from arrest as a aoe verter from the Legion. But the very thought of himself as a deserter was torture from which he could never escape. He regretted nothing. What +4 pes aoe he would do again, if he ac 0 do, even in ignot reward—her lov ut he nana bered how he Impossible if would have seemed tron that he should ever follow Manuel's example, hie loved Col, De Lislo ana bv dam loved the Legion with all its trage> dies, and been proud of his place in it, He looked upon himself as a man disgraced and did not see how he should ever be able to mak tion in the world worthy to b by Banda, Bésides, it would be astrous for Col. De his daughter berte that Yet Handa loved the deserter, and fate had bound them together. The spirit of the desert was making them one, Max did not know that out of Sanda’s dreams had been rm a i ~~ (To Be Continued.) \ ured dis-