"so far, jack, you and mr. zaranko seem to have had most of the fun," pronounced my cousin betty, as we sat at luncheon in the kings' private sittingroom in the pera palace.

watkins for the moment acted as butler, and we were safe from inquisitive ears and could talk with freedom.

"what interests me," said hugh thoughtfully, "is how many of those johnnies you scragged last night."

"only the one, i think," replied nikka.

"you hit another chap," i reminded him.

"yes, but two off their strength doesn't mean any great reduction in their fighting force."

"still, counting in those two and the men they sent off with their women, as nikka's pals reported, they'll be a good bit weaker than they were," argued hugh.

"just the same," insisted betty, "we ought not to run any unnecessary risks."

"who's we?" i inquired.

"see here, jack," she flashed, "because you're my cousin is no reason why you can bully me. you might as well understand that i am in this, and i am going to have my part in whatever we do."

"hear, hear," hugh applauded servilely.

nikka laughed.

"how about it, vernon?" i demanded of my uncle.

he spread his hands in a gesture of depreciation.

"my dear jack," he said, "you evidently have small acquaintance with the younger feminine generation. betty is of legal age—i trust, my dear, you have no objection to the revelation of an intimate detail your sex are supposed to cherish in secret?—"

"not a particle, dad," betty responded cheerfully.

"—and within reasonable limits, her judgment is to be depended upon. moreover, a not unimportant consideration is that she knows how to run a motor, and in our excursions in the curlew her aid has been of some value.",

"don't be stuffy, jack," urged hugh. "give the girl a chance. there are lots of things she can do, short of mixing it with your friend toutou. i gather that nikka's lady friend in the hostile camp was not averse—"

"that's a different matter," i interrupted, perceiving the embarrassment on nikka's face.

we had slurred over kara's personal interest in his fortunes, but even so, the incident, to quote betty's analysis, was "romantic to the nth degree."

"i don't see that it is," asserted betty stubbornly, "and i intend to play my part. you are short-handed—"

"you forget that nikka has seven men hidden away in stamboul," i reminded her.

"on the contrary, i take them into account," she retorted. "but you have all been saying that it is advisable not to use them, except in a final emergency."

"that is true," agreed nikka. "the more we bring into this row, the noisier it will become. also, as we decided before, we ought to have an ace or two in the hole. take my advice, and hang on to wasso mikali and his young men to the last."

"i'm not disputing you," said betty, still belligerent. "what you say is only what i've been saying. but would you mind telling me why you are so set against using your gypsies?"

"if we use them there will be killing on a big scale," said nikka succinctly. "that sort of thing is bound to become known."

"i met riley-gratton, the o.c. of the m.p.s this morning, and he gave me a wad of town gossip," cut in hugh, "but he didn't say anything about our lads' scrap at tokalji's house."

"oh, we can get away with it once or maybe twice," returned nikka, "but if we keep it up we'll run into trouble."

"no question of it," i said.

"then what are we arguing about?"' demanded betty.

i laughed.

"darn it all," i confessed. "you won't let up, will you? well, have it your own way. what do you want to do?"

"run you down the bosphorus after dark for a look at tokalji's house from the water side," she answered promptly.

hugh intervened.

"there's no question in the minds of you two chaps but that any attack ought to come from the water front, is there?" he asked.

"it couldn't very well come from the street," replied nikka. "there's a high, windowless wall and a strong door, and even in that lawless quarter publicity would attend an armed invasion of private property."

"of course," said betty, her head in the air, "it couldn't be any other way. now tell us some more about the hiding-place of the treasure."

nikka shrugged his shoulders and looked at me.

"what more can we say?" i answered. "there's the courtyard and the red stone."

"it's not hollow, you said?" spoke up king.

"no."

"that would indicate a task of some difficulty in prying loose the covering of the treasure chamber," he remarked. "we have—or rather, i should say, betty has—taken precautions to install on board the curlew an equipment of crowbars, pick-axes, shovels, chisels and other tools—"

"—and a knotted rope with a grapnel on the end to help in going up the sea-wall," reminded betty.

"true, my dear. your forethought has been admirable. what i was about to say, however, was that a certain amount of time—i fear, perhaps, an inordinate amount of time—will be required to pry loose the covering of the vault. how are we to secure ourselves such an opportunity?"

"by choosing a time when the occupants of the house are off-watch and their numbers diminished," declared hugh.

"true," agreed nikka, "yet i confess i don't see how—"

and to make a long story short we hashed it over all afternoon until tea-time, without arriving at any clearer view of the outlook before us. by that time we were sick of the discussion, and voted to suspend. vernon king and betty went to a reception at the british high commissioner's, and the rest of us planned to take a walk on the chance of running into wasso mikali, who had promised to come over to pera in the afternoon if his spies picked up any additional information.

the first person we saw in the hotel lobby was montey hilyer. he hailed us in front of the booking-office.

"i say, chesby," he drawled in tones that reached all the bystanders, "i don't know what sort of a lark you fellows were up to last night, but really, you know, you can't take liberties with natives in the east—and especially, with their women. really, old chap, you ought to be careful. in your place, i think i'd clear out of constantinople. no knowing what kind of trouble you may get into."

hugh was furious. he looked hilyer up and down with cold scorn.

"are you taking a flyer in blackmail, by any chance?" he asked deliberately.

"not yet," answered hilyer cheerfully. "no knowing, though. matter of fact, at present, i'm protecting some poor natives who fear they are going to be victimized by a gang of foreigners."

"well, whatever you are doing, i should prefer that you keep away from me in the future," said hugh. "i can't afford to have the jockey club stewards hear that i've been talking to you."

as it happened, the one episode in hilyer's piebald past that irked his pride and aroused sore memories was his suspension from the privileges of the turf. he was cynically indifferent to every other charge brought against him. but the man was a sincere horseman, his racing ventures had been the breath of life to him, his disgrace and compulsion to enter his thoroughbreds under other men's colors had been a bitter blow. and he showed this feeling now. his face went dead-white; his nostrils pinched in.

"all right, chesby," he said curtly, "i won't forget that."

and he disappeared into the bar.

"curse the rotter," muttered hugh. "i'm glad something will flick him on the raw."

"you were hard on him," said nikka seriously. "after all, why should you mind anything that he can say?"

"he was hoping that miss king was within hearing distance," retorted hugh. "he said what he did deliberately to smear smut on all of us. a dog like that doesn't deserve consideration."

"some people believe a dog does deserve consideration, lord chesby," said a feminine voice behind us.

we turned to face hélène de cespedes. the countess sandra vassilievna was with her. maude hilyer, her face as ghastly as her husband's, was hurrying away from them.

"you may be enemies, but why should you make a woman cry?" added the russian girl. "she will be unhappy for the rest of the day."

"i'm very sorry," answered hugh stiffly, "but do you sincerely believe that her husband is entitled to insult me in public?"

"it was a rotten thing he said," admitted hélène frankly. "and of course, he is a rotter. but as i told you boys once, they are a queer pair, and maudey—well, she really thinks that if they ever get to a state of affluence, they can both turn around and live straight. it's damned silly, but—do you believe in fairies? those who don't, generally envy those who do."

"we don't believe in fairies," i answered good-temperedly, "and we also don't believe in letting a man who is a thief get away with a gratuitous insult."

"oh, you're right," said sandra vassilievna impartially, "from your own point of view. but i'm going up to tell maudey that she'll only ruin her complexion if she weeps for what an offensively honest man says to her."

hélène laughed as the russian walked off.

"women are almost as funny as men, aren't they?" she said. "oh, say, before i forget it, mr. nash, you want to look out for that girl's brother. you slammed him one or two in that fight at chesby, and he's had it in for you ever since. and after last night, all the men are wild. if that gypsy tokalji catches you—phew! oh, boy! and toutou!"

"they weren't able to catch us last night," returned nikka. "they aren't likely to have as good a chance again."

"you put up a great fight," she agreed. "oh, i'm handing it to you, all of you! you're the best little bunch i ever ran across. say, i wouldn't believe an english lord could be as much of a hustler as you, lord chesby. your uncle, he—"

she shrugged.

"what about my uncle?" asked hugh eagerly. "d'you mind telling how your push got on to him?"

"n-no, i suppose there's no harm now," she answered slowly. "poor old fellow! i was darned sorry he was croaked. we none of us— well, what's the use talking? that toutou is a devil, mr. nash knows it. i only hope he and the rest of you don't get to know him any better. but about your uncle, lord chesby. he was a cinch. he ran around here like a kid in a game of 'cops-and-thieves.' everybody knew he was up to something. the authorities thought he was just a nut. but when he took to snooping around tokalji's house, our folks got wise to it he might be on to something good. tokalji's tribe have always had this tradition of a treasure— but you know about that. tokalji had been working with us since before the war, and he realized this was more than he could tackle by himself, so he called on toutou. the rest is what's going to happen."

"and that?" asked hugh, grinning.

"my dear young lord, you'll lose your shirt—if not your life," she retorted airily.

"tough luck," said hugh, "but your people have got to do better, in that case."

"you're dead right," she agreed. "say, mr. zaranko, on the level now, did that girl of tokalji's sell out to you last night?"

nikka stared at her blankly, his face a perfect mask.

"we had a good deal of trouble with her," he returned. "had to tie her up. she was right on our heels, with her knife."

hélène shook her head.

"ye-es, that's true, but—i saw her this morning. humph! maybe i'm a fool. i told toutou to mind his own business, and not mix into the tribe's affairs. tokalji said she was all right, and that ought to be enough."

"god help toutou if he went after her," i said facetiously.

hélène gave me a quick glance.

"maybe you're right," she said. "i've often wondered what toutou would do against a woman who used a knife. he—he gets 'em in a different way. well, i'm babbling, which is a sign of old age. be good, boys, and give up before you get into serious trouble. as ever, your well-wisher, hélène."

and she tripped off.

"what a delightful criminal," i remarked. "somehow i don't mind so much the idea of being plucked by her."

"you're losing your perspective," growled hugh, who was in a righteous frame of mind, partly because he was in love and partly because of his clash with hilyer. "a crook is a crook. they're all against us. i don't know but that the women are the most dangerous where you are concerned, jack. why are you so damned susceptible?"

at which i laughed. nikka, walking beside us, had no ears for our conversation. his thoughts were on that slim, brown tzigane maid about whom hélène de cespedes had inquired. but he woke up a block farther on, when a big, turbanned figure shambled past us, with a guttural exclamation from the corner of his mouth. at the next corner there was a traffic block, and we grouped casually around wasso mikali.

"tokalji's women and children are in camp beyond boghazkeui on the edge of the forest of belgrade," he murmured, staring at a fat turkish pasha who was rolling by in a daimler. "there are five men with them. five other men have left sokaki masyeri since morning. if franks were there they have gone."

"it is good, my uncle," returned nikka, affecting to speak to hugh. "continue the watch. if there is more to report bid one of your young men lounge before the khan where we are staying to-morrow in the forenoon."

"it shall be done," said the old man, and he elbowed his way through our ranks as though in haste to cross over.

i looked behind us for the inevitable spies. there were several levantines in european dress and tarboosh on the corner—and hilmi bey, who pretended that he was not noticing us. his attitude was that of scorning to spy and hating to have it supposed that he could demean himself to so plebeian a phase of crime. i called a greeting to him in derision.

"are you walking our way?" i asked.

"i have a house in the rue midhat pasha," he answered effusively. "i am going to visit my wives. it is a long time since i have seen them. don't let me detain you, gentlemen. i turn right at the opposite corner."

"a vain dog," commented nikka, sourly watching hilmi's plump back. "he was afraid to be caught in such an ordinary undertaking.'

"well," said hugh, whose temper had improved, "it goes to show that criminals are human beings. every one of these birds seems to have some sense of shame if you can only pick out the right point of contact."

we led our escorts—for we took it for granted that we were under observation—a dilatory stroll, and arrived back at the pera palace in time for dinner, which, as usual, we had served in the king's sitting room. it was a leisurely meal, for we had time to kill. there was an early moon, and we wanted it to set before the curlew left the golden horn.

after watkins had brought the coffee, betty excused herself. she returned in a quarter of an hour dressed in a warm sport suit instead of the light evening frock she had worn, and carrying two boxes of cartridges.

"have you all got your pistols loaded?" she inquired. "watkins? daddy?"

"i think so, my dear," answered her father absent-mindedly. "i wish, jack, that you had observed more carefully the carvings on that colonnade. it may be truly ancient or— what? what is it, betty?"

she deftly frisked him, and examined his automatic.

"yes, it's all right," she said, returning it to him. "and for heaven's sake remember, dad, that the safety lock is on. here's an extra clip. watkins?"

watkins set down the tray of coffee-cups, and cautiously hauled his weapon from his hip-pocket.

"quite right, i think, ma'am, miss king," he replied.

"here's an extra clip for you, too. boys?"

"you don't catch old campaigners like us with empty weapons," i jeered. "it isn't we who'll be getting into trouble."

"i wish i could be sure of that," she retorted. "most likely i'll be trying to pull you out of a scrape twenty-four hours from now. but let's get started. we have a car at the side entrance to run us down to the man-o'-war landing, where the curlew is moored."

if the spies were still watching the hotel, as i have no doubt they were, we gave them the slip. we went downstairs together, and shot into the closed car which was in waiting, watkins sitting beside the chauffeur. ten minutes later we drew up on the curlew's dock, secure from observation because of the british marine sentries who stood guard at the dock-gates.

the curlew was a handy craft, decked over forward, with a roomy cockpit and a good, heavy-duty mercedes engine. she was nothing to look at, but reliable and efficient. betty, who was an experienced yachtswoman, automatically assumed command, and hugh and watkins as automatically accepted the rôle of crew. vernon king, nikka and i tried to be as inconspicuous as possible.

"lay for'ard, hugh, and slack off that bow-line," ordered betty energetically. "how is the engine, watkins? very well, turn it over."

there was a splutter, and then the steady "put-put-put."

"cast off that bow-line, hugh! lay aft, watkins. is the stern-line slack? pay out! let go! get out from under my feet, jack. no, daddy, you can't have a cigar—nothing but running-lights. i'd douse those if i weren't afraid of the navy people. mr. zaranko, d'you mind dropping into the cabin and taking a look at the tools we laid in?"

we chugged slowly through the glut of shipping in the golden horn, edging away from the galata shore toward the picturesque bulk of stamboul. seraglio point loomed ahead of us, high, rugged, tree-covered, dotted with infrequent lights. we rounded it, the lighthouse twinkling on our starboard beam, and turned southwest into the bosphorus, with the wide sweep of the marmora just ahead. to port the outline of scutari and the suburbs on the asiatic shore showed dimly. to starboard stamboul towered, white and ghostly and serenely beautiful, more than ever the magic city of the arabian nights. the steamer from rodosto and other marmoran ports steamed past us with a swash and gurgle. a belated fishing-boat flapped by. then we had the waters to ourselves.

"have you the night-glasses, hugh?" questioned betty. "see if you can make out the st. sophia minarets." and to us: "that's our first landfall in making tokalji's house. watkins, i think it ought to be safe now to douse the running-lights."

hugh leaned forward across the cabin-roof, resting on his elbows, eyes glued to the glasses.

"right o," he called back. "i'm on them—and i can see that big old tower of the sea-walls that lies this side of the jetty."

betty cut off the engine.

"fetch the sweeps, watkins," she whispered. "we'll pull in. quiet, everybody."