Brewster’s Millions

had taken a hurried survey of Rome. By the middle of July the party was leaving the heat of Egypt and finding it not half bad. New York was not more than a month away as Brewster reckoned time and distance, and there was still too much money in the treasury. As September drew nearer he got into the habit of frequently forgetting Swearengen Jones until it was too late to retrace his steps. He was coming to the “death struggle,” as he termed it, and there was something rather terrorizing in the fear that “the million might die hard.” And so these last days and nights were glorious ones, if one could have looked at them with unbiased, untroubled eyes. But every member of his party was praying for the day when the Flitter would be well into the broad Atlantic and the worst over. At Alexandria Brewster had letters to some Englishmen, and in the few entertainments that he gave succeeded once again in fairly outdoing Aladdin.

A sheik from the interior was a guest at one of Monty’s entertainments. He was a burly, hot-blooded fellow, with a densely-populated harem, and he had been invited more as a curiosity than as one to be honored. As he came aboard the Flitter, Monty believed the invitation was more than justified. Mohammed was superb, and the women of the party made so much of him that it was small wonder that his head was turned. He fell desperately in love with Peggy Gray on sight, and with all the composure of a potentate who had never been crossed he sent for Brewster the next day and told him to “send her around” and he would marry her. Monty’s blood boiled furiously for a minute or two, but he was quick to see the wisdom of treating the proposition diplomatically. He tried to make it plain to the sheik that Miss Gray could not accept the honor he wished to confer upon her, but it was not Mohammed’s custom to be denied anything he asked for⁠—especially anything feminine. He complacently announced that he would come aboard that afternoon and talk it over with Peggy.

Brewster looked the swarthy gentleman over with unconcealed disgust in his eyes. The mere thought of this ugly brute so much as touching the hand of little Peggy Gray filled him with horror, and yet there was something laughable in the situation. He could not hide the smile that came with the mind picture of Peggy listening to the avowal of the sheik. The Arab misinterpreted this exhibition of mirth. To him the grin indicated friendship and encouragement. He wanted to give Brewster a ring as a pledge of affection, but the American declined the offering, and also refused to carry a bag of jewels to Peggy.

“I’ll let the old boy come aboard just to see Peggy look a hole through him,” he resolved. “No matter how obnoxious it may be, it isn’t every girl who can say an oriental potentate has asked her to marry him. If this camel-herder gets disagreeable we may tumble him into the sea for a change.”

With the best grace possible he invited the sheik to come aboard and consult Miss Gray in person. Mohammed was a good bit puzzled over the intimation that it would be necessary for him to plead for anything he had expressed a desire to possess. Brewster confided the news to “Rip” Van Winkle and “Subway” Smith, who had gone ashore with him, and the trio agreed that it would be good sport to let the royal proposal come as a surprise to Peggy. Van Winkle returned to the yacht at once, but his companions stayed ashore to do some shopping. When they approached the Flitter later on they observed an unusual commotion on deck.

Mohammed had not tarried long after their departure. He gathered his train together, selected a few costly presents that had been returned from the harem and advanced on the boat without delay. The captain of the Flitter stared long and hard at the gaily bedecked launches and then called to his first officer. Together they watched the ceremonious approach. A couple of brown-faced heralds came aboard first and announced the approach of the mighty chief. Captain Perry went forward to greet the sheik as he came over the side of the ship, but he was brushed aside by the advance guards. Half a hundred swarthy fellows crowded aboard and then came the sheik, the personification of pomp and pride.

“Where is she?” he asked in his native tongue. The passengers were by this time aware of the visitation, and began to straggle on deck, filled with curiosity. “What the devil do you mean by coming aboard in this manner?” demanded the now irate Captain Perry, shoving a couple of retainers out of his path and facing the beaming suitor. An interpreter took a hand at this juncture and the doughty captain finally was made to understand the object of the visit. He laughed in the sheik’s face and told the mate to call up a few jackies to drive the “dagoes” off. “Rip” Van Winkle interfered and peace was restored. The cruise had changed “Rip” into a happier and far more radiant creature, so it was only natural that he should have shared the secret with Mary Valentine. He had told the story of the sheik’s demand to her as soon as he came aboard, and she had divulged it to Peggy the instant “Rip” was out of sight.

Brewster found the sheik sitting in state on the upper deck impatiently awaiting the appearance of his charmer. He did not know her name, but he had tranquilly commanded “Rip” to produce all of the women on board so that he might select Peggy from among them. Van Winkle and Bragdon, who now was in the secret, were preparing to march the ladies past the ruler when Monty came up.

“Has he seen Peggy?” he