"Say, that's A1," Lacey said, when Mahommed's voice sank to a whisper of
wild harmony. "Yes, you can lick my boots, my noble sheikh of
Manfaloot," he added, as Mahommed caught his feet and bent his head upon
them. "I wanted to do something like that myself. Kiss 'em, honey;
it'll do you good."

After a moment, Mahommed drew back and squatted before him in an attitude
of peace and satisfaction. "The Saadat--you will help him? You will
give him money?"

"Let's put it in this way, Mahommed: I'll invest in an expedition out of
which I expect to get something worth while--concessions for mines and
railways, et cetera." He winked a round, blue eye. "Business is
business, and the way to get at the Saadat is to talk business; but you
can make up your mind that,

"'To-morrow, we are pulling stakes for Shendy!
Are you coming to my party, O Nahoum?'"

"By the prophet Abraham, but the news is great news," said Mahommed with
a grin. "But the Effendina?"

"Well, I'll try and square the Effendina," answered Lacey. "Perhaps the
days of backsheesh aren't done in Egypt, after all."

"And Nahoum Pasha?" asked Mahommed, with a sinister look.

"Well, we'll try and square him, too, but in another way."