Dick Merriwell's Pranks Part 20

"Perhaps not, but still I can't help thinking she was. Of course you may say she had a right to flirt mildly with the man. Perhaps she did. Still I had exalted her in my own mind. I regarded her as staunch and true. I thought her far superior to the foolish, frivolous modern girl. She knew how much I thought of her, and she pretended to care for me. But, like all of her s.e.x, out of sight, out of mind. I was far away. Hafsa Pasha, the handsome Turk, was near. He quoted poetry to her. She listened and was enchanted. She forgot me. They all do. d.i.c.k, you're the only human being I ever knew who was staunch as the rock-ribbed hills. You never change, no matter what happens. All others are weak and vacillating. My confidence in human nature is pretty well shattered."

"Oh, rats!" cried d.i.c.k. "Don't get cynical, Brad! It doesn't become you at all. You're naturally the most optimistical chap in the world."

"What do you think I'm going to do?" harshly demanded the Texan. "Think I can ever feel the same toward that girl? Not much! If she hadn't learned that her old Turk was married, I'd be in the soup now. He's married, and so I'm good enough for her until she finds some chap she likes better. I tell you it's all off, d.i.c.k! I throw up the sponge! I quit!"

"I think this climate has got your liver out of condition," said Merriwell. "What you need is a tonic. You'll feel differently about this to-morrow."

"Not to-morrow, nor the next day, nor ever!" declared Brad. "Miss Budthorne will find that I'm no chump to play second fiddle. Don't you dare laugh at me, Richard Merriwell! I'm in deadly earnest!"

d.i.c.k did not laugh then, but he found an opportunity when Buckhart was not present.

However, Buckhart was far more serious than his comrade imagined.

During the remainder of that day Brad wore a heavy grouch. He kept much by himself and avoided Nadia, much to her perplexity. Finally her pride was touched, and she made no further effort to speak with him or to see him.

Never had d.i.c.k seen his friend in such a mood. In vain he tried to jolly the Texan and cheer him up. A profound cloud of gloom overhung the st.u.r.dy chap from the Rio Pecos country.

All were more or less weary, and so they willingly rested through the day.

When evening came Dunbar Budthorne proposed that they should attend the one theatre of the city, which was located on the princ.i.p.al square, within a short distance of the hotel.

"What sort of a performance is given there?" questioned d.i.c.k.

"Oh, vaudeville, tumbling, fencing, juggling, acrobatic stunts, and so forth. It's rather dull as a performance, but it will serve to pa.s.s the time away."

"Is it a suitable place for your sister to visit?"

"Well, I don't know about that. I hear the men smoke until you may cut the atmosphere into chunks with a knife. The theatre is a rickety old shanty, and none too clean. We might leave Nadia here in the hotel."

"Don't do that!" she entreated. "Don't leave me alone in this city. I'm afraid to be left alone, after what has happened."

"Hum! ha!" coughed Professor Gunn. "I think we will omit the theatre.

Evidently it is a low resort. I decline to permit the boys to visit it."

And, although they chaffed him about it, the old man was rigid in his decision, which finally settled it, and they did not attend the theatre in Damascus.

The following morning, however, they prepared to start out to look the city over. When they were ready to leave the hotel it was found that Buckhart had vanished.

On inquiry they learned that he had set out by himself, leaving word for them not to bother about him.

Nadia pouted and looked greatly disappointed.

"What is the matter with him?" she asked. "I think he's just as mean as can be! What makes him act so queer?"

She pinned d.i.c.k down and put the question to him, not a little to his dismay. He could not tell the truth, and he would not lie.

"I'll have to let him explain his own actions," he said, seeking to find a loophole of escape.

"But you know why he is so peculiar-I know you do! You can't deny it!"

"I won't try."

"Then you must tell me. I insist on it."

"Please don't, Nadia! It will be all right in time, but I prefer to let him explain."

After a while he induced her to drop the subject temporarily although he knew she would return to it at the first opportunity and seek, with all the intensity of her feminine curiosity, than which there is nothing more acute and prying, to compel him to divulge the truth.

Arouse the curiosity of a girl and she will strain every nerve to learn a secret, even though she knows the knowledge will make her most miserable. The only way to keep a secret from a girl is not to let her suspect a secret exists.

They left the hotel and proceeded to the public square, which is located near the centre of the city. This square proved to be a large, open place, where at that hour throngs of people of all nationalities and colors were a.s.sembling. The square was a sort of public market. In the centre was a fountain and monument.

All around the sides of the square were the little booths and stands of itinerant merchants, the most of them with their goods spread out on the ground before them, and arranged in the most inviting manner their ingenuity could devise.

There were many professional letter writers, each one sitting at a desk under awnings of canvas or straw. They did not sit on chairs, but flat on the ground, with their legs crossed. They were supplied with wooden or reed pens. Their ink they carried in inkhorns.

Many of these letter writers were busy. Some were writing business communications, some were drawing up contracts or making out legal papers, while one, with a veiled woman sitting near him, was writing a love letter, recording the words whispered to him by the lips hidden behind the veil.

Within the square were carts, camels, saddle horses, carriages, and donkeys, all there to be hired.

Men were wandering about, sometimes in pairs and holding hands. This, Budthorne explained, was a common sight, it being an evidence of affection that was thought quite natural in Damascus.

Adjoining the square were several coffee shops, where Turkish men could be seen sitting round, smoking hookahs, sipping coffee, and playing checkers, chess, dominoes, and so forth. They wore long, calico gowns, and their heads were swathed in turbans.

"Look here," said d.i.c.k, motioning toward some pa.s.sing camels. "See how oddly their owners decorate the beasts. They have strings of blue beads round their necks."

"You'll see that everywhere, on camels, horses, and donkeys," declared Budthorne. "Those strings of beads are charms to ward off the influence of the evil eye."

A strange sound smote their ears. It came from the open door of a little shop, and it made them s.h.i.+ver, for it was a sort of doleful wail and chant combined.

"Some one must be dying in there!" exclaimed d.i.c.k.

They looked in at the door. A young man was sitting cross-legged on the floor, busy at some sort of work.

He was singing!

Despite the distressing sounds he was emitting, this young man was very happy.

He was singing a love song!

The sound of clanging, clanking, and banging, as of many persons pounding tin pans and washboilers, came to their ears. A few moments later they found themselves at the beginning of the bazaars of the city.

The sounds they had heard came from the coppersmith's street, where hundreds of skillful laborers were at work on bra.s.s, beating and molding it in to all sorts of shapes. They were making bowls, trays, and dishes, such as may be seen on sale in any genuine Oriental store.

It was very interesting to watch these laborers, and their skill was something to marvel at.

They wandered on through bazaar after bazaar, their interest and wonderment increasing.

One bazaar was filled with pipes and smoking paraphernalia of every description. There were pipes mounted with gold and silver, and some were decorated with precious stones.