James Hopper,
McClure's Magazine, Volume 29, Number 4…
(1907)
“ Ali Baba came in as I was looking. He stopped, legs apart, and looked too. I saw him out of the corner of my eye, and I thought that his uniform, by this time, was really passing the bounds of average decency; his hair, too, had lost its metallic luster, and his freckles seemed washed out. A sort of sullen disappointment suddenly overcame me. "So these are your Forty Thieves," I said perversely, because I felt bad. "Poor devils," he remarked objectively. "No clothes, no food, no nothing. Poor devils!" "Can they shoot?" I asked, still mean with disillusion. "The Pulajanes are raiding again." ”
