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 THE RED RUGS OF TARSUS

who massacred them three days ago, bar the way. Back they must go to death.

Herbert and I meet the trains. We look for the chance to smuggle friends through.

We got H B through yesterday.

The Swiss stationmaster, Monsieur B, re- monstrated hotly with Herbert about allowing me to come to the station. "It is no place for your wife," he declared. "There might be bloodshed any minute, if a refugee resists."

But I held my ground. I knew H B

was going to try to get on this train. He had money to bribe with, and could travel first- class. Mother, I managed to slip into the first- class coach just as the train stopped, and came

out the other end leaning heavily on H

B 's arm. We left the station through the

waiting-room, and none said a word or stopped

us. H B was safe. Herbert

could n't have done it. The Turks, for all their cruelty, have a curious chivalry upon which I

banked. I was not mistaken. H B

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