“What is the condition now at El-Kerak?”

“Condition?  There is none.  There is chaos.  You see, the British say their authority ceases at the River Jordan and at a line drawn down the middle of the Dead Sea.  That leaves us with a choice between two other governments—­King Hussein’s government of Mecca, and Feisul’s in Syria.  But Hussein’s arm is not long enough to reach us from the South, and Feisul’s is not nearly strong enough to interfere from the North.  So there is no government, and each man is keeping the peace with his own sword.”

“You mean; each man on his own account?”

“Yes.  So there is peace.  Five—­fifteen—­thirty throats are cut daily; and if you go down to the Jordan and listen, you will hear the shots being fired from ambush any day.”

“And you invite me to make the trip with you?”

“Oh, that is nothing.  In the first place, you are American.  Nobody will interfere with an American.  They are welcome.  In the second place, there is a good reason for bringing you; we all want an American school at El-Kerak.”

“But I am no teacher.”

“But you will be returning to America?  It is enough, then, that you look the situation over, and tell what you know on your return.  We will provide a building, a proper salary, and guarantee the teacher’s life.  We would prefer a woman, but it would be wisest to send a man.”

“How so?  The woman might not shoot straight?  I’ve some of our Western women do tricks with a gun that would—­”

“There would be no need.  She would have our word of honour.  But every sheikh who has only three wives would want to make her his fourth.  A man would be best.  Will you come with me?”

“On your single undertaking to protect me?  Are you king of all that countryside?”

“If you will come, you shall have an escort, every man of whom will die before he would let you be killed.  And if they, and you, should all be killed, their sons and grandsons would avenge you to the third generation of your murderers.”

“That’s undoubtedly handsome, but—­”

“Believe me, effendi,” he urged, “many a soul has been consoled in hell-fire by the knowledge that his adversaries would be cut off in their prime by friends who are true to their given word.”

Meaning to back out politely, I assured him I would think the offer over.

“Well and good,” he answered.  “You have my promise.  Should you decide to come, leave word here with the American Colony.  They will get word to me.  Then I will send for you, and the escort shall meet you at the Dead Sea.”

I talked it over with two or three members of the Colony, and they assured me the promise could be depended on.  One of them added: 

“Besides, you ought to see El-Kerak.  It’s an old crusader city, rather ruined, but more or less the way the crusaders left it.  And that craving of theirs for a school is worth doing something about, if you ever have an opportunity.  They say they have too much religion already, and no enlightenment at all.  A teacher who knew Arabic would have a first-class time, and would be well paid and protected, if he could keep his hands off politics.  Why not talk with Major Grim?”