"I always
carry it with me, and put it in front of my bed wherever I happen
to be."
Berkeley Fresno, drawn by the irresistible magnetism of Miss
Blake's presence, wandered in and ran his eyes over the room.
Speed took the rug and examined it curiously. "It's an old-timer,
isn't it? Must be one of the first settlers."
"Yes. It's thousands and thousands of years old. Father picked it
up somewhere in Asia."
"How does it work?" queried Glass, feeling of it gingerly.
"It's a very holy thing," Helen explained. "The Mohammedan stands
on it facing the East and cries 'Allah!'"
"Alley!" repeated the trainer. "No. Allah!"
"'Allah' is the Mohammedan divinity," explained Speed.
"I've got you." Glass was greatly interested.
"Then he makes his prayer. It is such a sacred thing that when
one's feet are on it no harm can come to one."
"Well, what d'you think of that?" murmured the trainer.
Fresno laughed pleasantly. "It's too bad it isn't long enough to
run this footrace on."
"Do you believe in the charm?" inquired Speed of Helen.
Pages:
56
57
58
59
60
61
62
63
64
65
66
67
68
69
70
71
72
73
74
75
76
77
78
79
80