The Lion of Petra | Page 5

from this venture without striking bargains
between friends."
Grim smiled at that like a merchant listening to a salesman. It is not
often that you can tell the color of his eyes, but on occasions of that sort
they look iron-gray and match the bushy eyebrows. He turned to de
Crespigny.
"Have you finished the census, 'Crep?"
"Pretty nearly."
"Have you got Ali Baba's property all listed?"
"Yes."
"And that of his sons and grandsons?"

"Every bit of it that's taxable."
"Good. You hear that, Ali Baba? Now listen to me, you old rascal.
When you complained to me the other day that there was no more
thieving left to do in Hebron, I told you you're rich enough to quit, and
you admitted it, you remember? You agreed with me that jail isn't a
dignified place for a man of your years and experience."
"Taib.* Jail is not good." [* All right]
"But you complained that you couldn't keep your gang out of
mischief."
"Truly. They are young. They have talent. Shall they sit still and grow
fat like a pasha in the harem?"
"So I said I'd find them some honest employment from time to time."
"That was a good promise. Here already is employment. But you know,
Jimgrim, they are used to rich profits in return for running risks.
Danger is meat and drink to them."
"They shall have their fill this trip!" said Grim.
"Taib. But the reward should be proportionate."
"Government wages!" Grim answered firmly. The old Arab smiled.
"Under the Turks," he answered, "the officer pocketed the pay, and the
men might help themselves."
"D'you take me for a Turk?" asked Grim.
"No, Jimgrim. I know you for a cunning contriver--an upsetter of
calculations--but no Turk. Nevertheless, as I understand it, we go
against Ali Higg, who calls himself the Lion of Petra. Sheikh Ali Higg
has amassed a heap of plunder--hundreds of camels--merchandise taken
from the caravans; that should be ours for the lifting. That is honest.
That is reasonable."

"Not a bit of it!" said Grim. "Let's get that clear before we start. I know
your game. You've got it all fixed up between yourselves to stick with
me until Ali Higg is mafish* and then bolt for the skyline with the
plunder. Not a bit of use arguing--I know. You shouldn't talk your plans
over in coffee-shop corners if you don't want me to hear of them."
--------- * Lit., nothing--corresponds to "na-poo" in Army slang.
---------
"Jimgrim, you are the devil!"
"Maybe. But let's understand each other. Your property in Hebron is all
listed. We'll call that a pledge for good behavior. You and your men are
going to have government rifles served out to you that you'll have to
account for afterward. Every rifle missing when we get back, and every
scrap of loot you lay your hands on, will be charged double against
your Hebron property. On the other hand, if any camels die you shall be
reimbursed. Is that clear?"
"Clear? A camel in the dark could understand it! But listen, Jimgrim."
The venerable sire of rogues went and sat crosslegged on the
window-seat, evidently meaning to debate the point. If an Arab loves
one thing more than a standing argument it is that same thing sitting
down.
"We go against Ali Higg. That is no light matter. He will send his men
against us, and that is no light matter either. They are heretics without
hope of paradise and bent on seeing hell before their time! Surely they
will come to loot our camp in the dark. Shall we not defend ourselves?"
But Grim was not disposed to stumble into any traps.
"Does a loaded camel on the level trouble about hills?" he asked.
But Ali Baba waved the question aside as irrelevant.
"They come. We defend ourselves. One, or maybe two, or even more of

Ali Higg's scoundrels are slain. Behold a blood-feud! Jimgrim and his
friends depart for El-Kudz* or elsewhere; Ali Baba and his sons have a
feud on their hands. [* Jerusalem]
"Now a feud, Jimgrim, has its price! It would do my old heart good to
see the blood of Ali Higg and his heretics, for it is written that we
should smite the heretic and spare not. But we should also despoil him
of his goods, or the Prophet will not be pleased with us!"
"That is the talk of a rooster on a dung-hill," Grim answered. "A rooster
crows a mile away. Another answers with a challenge, but the camels
draw the plow in ten fields between them. That is like a blood-feud
between you and Ali Higg. Five days' march from here to Petra and
how many deserts and tribes between?"
"So much the easier to keep the loot when we