off into the night. Sambo was at once released. Meantime, Sandy, as the unofficial cashier of the expedition, made an inventory of the treasure trove. It appears that Sambo had scented out in a strange way a very ancient and dilapidated tomb, which these Arab robbers had intended to despoil at the same time. 

 "Here, boys," said Sandy, "it's time we were hame. I've had enough o' skulls, shin banes and brass beer bottles." 

 "An' I've had enough of ghosts," growled Paddy, as they staggered down the road with their load of curios. The car whisked them back to Mena Camp again. Stealthily creeping through the lines, they arrived at their tents. All crept to bed, weary and wiser men. Claud was the last one to fall asleep. He was thinking of Sybil, the girl from the Bush. At last Morpheus claimed him. As he was slipping away into the dreamy unknown he heard Doolan muttering, "Ghosts! Be Jasus! Ghosts!" 

 

 

 CHAPTER V 

 SYBIL, THE SQUATTER'S GIRL 

 "By Jove! What a stunning girl. She's a peach!" whispered a Yeomanry subaltern to his Australian friend as a beautiful girl entered the spacious dining-room of Shepheard's Hotel in Cairo. 

 "Why, that's Sybil Graham—haven't seen her since she was a kid. My word, she is a beauty now," said the Australian officer. 

 "Who is she?" 

 "One of our squatter's girls. That's her father and mother with her. They've got miles of land, plenty of sheep and heaps of tin. He'll be a lucky fellow who gets her." 

 "You know, old chap, I never thought you produced women like that in Australia. No offence, you know. What I really mean is that the sun, the want of what we call society, and the lack of cultured institutions such as we have at home, must be a great handicap in bringing up a girl." 

 "Young man, you're talking through your hat," was the blunt reply.  "We have ladies in Australia just as we have at home. And can you guess what we haven't got?" 

 "No." 

 "Snobs! No time for all your damned conventions—'At Home' scandals and Society calls. These 

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