"If you keep with me," said George, "nobody will ask for passports or what you
do. They are all very busy."
"Yes; but I should like to hear some of the Englishmen talk. They might
remember me. I was known here a long time ago--when I was some one indeed."
"A long time ago is a very long time ago here. The graveyards are full. Now
listen. This new railway runs out so far as Tanai-el-Hassan--that is seven
miles. Then there is a camp. They say that beyond Tanai-el-Hassan the English
troops go forward, and everything that they require will be brought to them by
this line."
"Ah! Base camp. I see. That's a better business than fighting Fuzzies in the
open."
"For this reason even the mules go up in the iron-train."
"Iron what?"
"It is all covered with iron, because it is still being shot at."
"An armoured train. Better and better! Go on, faithful George."
"And I go up with my mules tonight. Only those who particularly require to go
to the camp go out with the train. They begin to shoot not far from the city."
"The dears--they always used to!" Dick snuffed the smell of parched dust,
heated iron, and flaking paint with delight. Certainly the old life was
welcoming him back most generously.
"When I have got my mules together I go up tonight, but you must first send a
telegram of Port Said, declaring that I have done you no harm.
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