There was one voice with a squeak in it like a rusty wheel that I had certainly never heard before.
It seemed we had made some prisoners.

There were three seedy-looking camels kneeling over by Grim's tent, and three almost as seedy-looking individuals were talking to Grim in the midst of our camp, with most of our gang seated in a semicircle listening.

Grim had out his traveling water-pipe for the sake of effect, and was puffing away at it while he meditated on the information that was being drawn forth gradually.

Ayisha was seated on the mat beside him.
The man with the squeak in his voice, who did most of the talking, was a very dark-skinned fellow with a short, coal-black, curly beard.

He had little gold rings in his ears, and in spite of the filthy condition of his clothes he wore an opulent look--the sort that suggests intimate acquaintance with the fabled riches of the East.