A FRIEND IN NEED

He whirled. "I'll fire!" he warned, staring into the dark, but his eyes, dazed with the sun, discerned nothing, and in utter ignorance he faced the black possibilities.

"A man--a hand----" Arlee gasped incoherently.

"Good Lord, what is it?" said a voice so near at hand that both were startled.

"Burroughs!" e.j.a.c.u.l.a.t.ed Billy. "Is it you--Burroughs?"

"Yes, it's I, Burroughs," the owner of the voice retorted irritably.

"And who the deuce are you?"

"Hill--Billy B. Hill," came the jubilant answer, and "Billy be d.a.m.ned!" said the astonished voice, with sudden joviality, and a dark shape strode up to them. "What on earth are you doing here? And what about that firing? Think I was a robber bold?"

"Well, there are three robber sneaks outside that we are hiding from, so I wasn't sure.... Great Caesar, old scout, but I'm glad to see you! That puts us out of the woods at last.... It's the excavator friend," he added, turning to Arlee. "Burroughs, I present you to Miss Beecher. She and I have been having a thoroughly impossible adventure."

"Let's have a little light upon these introductions," returned the excavator, and a click was heard, and a light jumped out overhead, flooding the tunnel-like place with brightness. In its beams the three stood staring queerly at each other.

Arlee saw a slim, wiry young American, in rough khaki clothes stained with work, a browned, unshaven young man with sleepy looking eyes and a mouth like a steel trap.

What the excavator saw was more surprising. There was his friend Billy, whom two weeks before he had seen off on a Nile steamer returning to Cairo, in tropic splendor of white serge and Panama hat, now a scarlet spectacle of sunburn and dirt, in most disgraceful tweeds, and beside him what Burroughs took to be a child in tatterdemalion white, a silky, fluttering white, which even his untrained observation knew was hardly elected for desert wear. The little girl's hair was hanging tangled over her shoulders, and was much the color of the sand with which her face was coated, and underneath that coating he saw that she was red as a peony with sun and wind. They were a startling pair.

Gravely, with unchanging eyes, he acknowledged the introduction, and then, "What's this about robbers?" he went on. "What kind of a yarn are you putting over?"

"Nothing I want put over on the general public." Billy was thinking very hard. "You're going to be our salvation, Burroughs, but even to you--well, I'll put it briefly. We were having a desert ride and some Turkish fellows who have annoyed her before chased us. There are our camels, just outside. And you can see one of the fellows on horseback keeping watch. The others are somewhere about.... And now, for heaven's sake, get us a drink of water."

Burroughs walked to the door of the tomb and looked out an instant, then he turned and went toward the back, returning with a small native jar full of water.

"I've no gla.s.s, but if you can manage this----?" he said to Arlee, and she clutched the cool pottery with two hot little hands and, murmuring a quick affirmative, she put it to her lips.

Then she held it out to Billy.

"I suppose--we mustn't---drink as much as we want."

"I couldn't," said Billy, after a grateful swallowing. "I'd drain the Nile.... Got a camp here?"

"Yes. You'd have seen my men any other time of day, but we knocked off a while out of the sun," Burroughs explained. "I've rigged up this tomb as living quarters while I'm here. Now what do you want me to do? Would you like a guard?"

"We'd like a guard and a bath and cold cream," said Billy joyfully.

"And then we'd like dinner and donkeys."

Burroughs grunted.

"Umph--I should say you'd one donkey already in your party--careering around the desert with a little girl like this," he vouchsafed, and Arlee's eyes widened at his brusque nod at her. She was staring about her now with a curious interest, for all her aching tiredness, gazing wonderingly at the dazzling white walls with their strange and brilliant paintings. She saw they were in a long, deep chamber, from which other openings led to unimagined deeps.

"I guess you never were in a place like this before?" Burroughs inquired, and she shook her head dumbly, feeling suddenly too spent for words.

"Can she get a rest here?" said Billy anxiously. "We've had the devil of a ride."

"The place is all hers," returned Burroughs. "I'll send you some food and cold cream--you mustn't wash that sunburn, you know, or you'll be a sorry girl to-morrow--and then you can rest as long as you like. How much of a hurry are you in?" he added to Billy.

"Well, we want to take a train to Luxor to-night. I suppose Girgeh's the next station?"

"You suppose? You _are_ at sea--where did you start from, anyway?"

But hastily Burroughs sped from that inquisitive question. "Balliana is your next station," he reported. "You've all the time you want, and I'll take you over myself. Now make yourself as comfortable as you can," he added to Arlee, handing her a big jar of cold cream and lugging forward an armful of rugs. "I'll be back with some food in a jiffy."

"You're very kind," Arlee spoke stanchly, but as soon as the two men stepped from the tomb, she seemed to wilt down into the rugs and lay there, too tired to stir.

Outside Burroughs blew sharply on a whistle, and from the mouth of another cave a file of black boys in ragged robes made a straggling appearance. Burroughs gave orders which resulted in a kindling of fire and the opening of boxes, and then he walked back to where Billy was surveying the weary camels. At a distance, like an equestrian statue, the watching horseman was standing. Burroughs stared hard at the distant Nubian, then stared harder at Billy.

"This is wonderful luck," Billy said to him, very soberly. "I didn't think of you as nearer than Thebes."

"We just heard of some fresh finds here, so I'm combing over the tombs.... But you--it's none of my business, Billy, but what in h.e.l.l are you doing racing over Egypt with a ten-year old kid?"

"Ten-year-old--Great Caesar, man, that's a _real girl_! She's _grown up_! She's old enough to vote--or nearly."

Burroughs stared harder than ever.

Then, "I shouldn't call that an extenuating circ.u.mstance," he mentioned wryly.

"Extenuating nothing! Look here, let me----"

"You needn't tell me anything, you know," Burroughs suggested in great indifference.

"Oh, shut up!" Billy spoke with deep disgust. "You've got to help us out of this and then forget the whole business." He paused a moment; then, "Miss Beecher made the mistake of taking a rash ride with me.

She was traveling alone, to meet some friends, to Luxor--and the indiscretion is entirely mine, you understand. I got her into it.

And then, as I said, a Turkish fellow, that had been making himself objectionable by following her, got his men out after us and chased us down here. Her trunks have gone on to Luxor where those friends are, and we have to find some presentable wraps for her and get her to the first train. _Verstehen_?"

"Grasped--and forgotten," said his friend laconically. Just for an instant his sleepy gaze touched Billy's rugged face, then fell casually away. "I suppose any comments that occur to me are superfluous?" he pleasantly observed.

"Completely.... And, Lord Harry, but I'm glad to see you!"

"Same here." Burroughs gave Billy's arm a friendly grip and Billy spun fiercely about on him. "Don't you do that again!" he warned.

"Take the other one. That's got a--a scratch."

"A scratch? One of those fellows wing you out there? Let me have a look----"

"No, it's all right--it's nothing----"

"Let me see, you old chump----"

"It's all right, I tell you. It's been taken care of--it's just a relic of Cairo."

"Cairo!" Slowly Burroughs let fall the hand he had laid upon Billy's arm. "You do seem to be having a lively trip," he commented, grinning. "Here, hurry up, you rascals, hurry up with that big jug."

Taking the large jar from them, he returned to the tomb, stopping abruptly at sight of Arlee's weary abandon. She half sat up, a frail, exhausted little figure, whose grace was strangely appealing through all her sandy dishevelment.

"Some water--for washing," he stammered.