"Your offer is just as good as one
of a million dollars would be. I wouldn't take either!"
"What! You have been trifling with me?" demanded M. Lemaire, starting
forward.
Now the meaning of those few words in Arabic became plain enough. For
Mlle. Nadiboff, who had bent over, her hand toying with the sand,
suddenly clutched a handful of the fine grains and straightened up,
hurling the sand full in Benson's face.
In that same flashing instant Gaston darted behind the young American.
As the half-blinded young captain dodged back, the chauffeur caught him
around the neck, dragging him to the ground, while Lemaire sprang a-top
of the boy.
Jack fought desperately enough, but the two men rolled him over,
struggling to hold his hands. Then--
Click! Snap!
Jack Benson's wrists were handcuffed tightly together.
Now M. Lemaire leaped up, looking down gloatingly at the boy.
"Benson, you young fool," scoffed the Frenchman, "since you refuse to
be treated as a friend, you shall know what it is to have us for your
enemies. You deem it easy to laugh at us--to call us names! Bah!
You will soon be glad to beg from us! Your hours of misery are now
before you--perhaps days of torment that shall end in madness.
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