"Has no one ever tried to open the door?"
"Several times," replied one of the Musselmans who kept a fruit stall in the Bazaar, "but always with the same result. It is impenetrable. It seems that Allah has purposely sealed this door to common man. It has a place to insert a key, but no key has yet been found to fit the aperture. We cannot burst it by force for it is emblazoned with figures rendered sacred by the Koran. Thus, Sahib, are we forced to let the matter rest until the door has fallen from its hinges by its own weight."
Anniston leaned toward the group of Persian gentlemen.
"I will open the door for you," he said boastfully. His face was a trifle flushed.
"Is the Sahib a locksmith?" inquired one, and there was a suggestion of rising interest in the tone.
"Among other things, I am," lied Anniston easily. "I have fought great fights with many a famous lock, but ever with the same result. I always have been victor. Now, hearing of this lock, by chance, my interest has been aroused and I wish to try my skill with it. Present me to the Pasha. Introduce me to his noble personage. Tell him you have hired me to open the door, for the day has come when you have tired of waiting for your money and will no longer listen to his procrastinations. Am I understood? Does my desire meet with your approval?"
"It does indeed," was the answer. The speaker was the boorish-looking fellow who had spoken before,
