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'Hah! What says Mahbub Ali?' He made no attempt to look for the
speaker, and that showed Kim that he knew.

'The pedigree of the white stallion is fully established.'

'What proof is there?' The Englishman switched at the rose-hedge
in the side of the drive.

'Mahbub Ali has given me this proof.' Kim flipped the wad of
folded paper into the air, and it fell in the path beside the
man, who put his foot on it as a gardener came round the corner.
When the servant passed he picked it up, dropped a rupee - Kim
could hear the clink - and strode into the house, never turning
round. Swiftly Kim took up the money; but for all his training,
he was Irish enough by birth to reckon silver the least part of
any game. What he desired was the visible effect of action; so,
instead of slinking away, he lay close in the grass and wormed
nearer to the house.

He saw - Indian bungalows are open through and through - the
Englishman return to a small dressing-room, in a comer of the
veranda, that was half office, littered with papers and despatch-
boxes, and sit down to study Mahbub Ali's message. His face, by
the full ray of the kerosene lamp, changed and darkened, and Kim,
used as every beggar must be to watching countenances, took good
note.

'Will! Will, dear!' called a woman's voice. 'You ought to be in
the drawing-room. They'll be here in a minute.'

The man still read intently.

'Will!' said the voice, five minutes later. 'He's come. I can
hear the troopers in the drive.'

The man dashed out bareheaded as a big landau with four native
troopers behind it halted at the veranda, and a tall, black
haired man, erect as an arrow, swung out, preceded by a young
officer who laughed pleasantly.

Flat on his belly lay Kim, almost touching the high wheels. His
man and the black stranger exchanged two sentences.

'Certainly, sir,' said the young officer promptly. 'Everything
waits while a horse is concerned.'

'We shan't be more than twenty minutes,' said Kim's man. 'You can
do the honours -keep 'em amused, and all that.'

'Tell one of the troopers to wait,' said the tall man, and they
both passed into the dressing-room together as the landau rolled
away. Kim saw their heads bent over Mahbub Ali's message, and
heard the voices - one low and deferential, the other sharp and
decisive.

'It isn't a question of weeks. It is a question of days - hours
almost,' said the elder. 'I'd been expecting it for some time,
but this' - he tapped Mahbub Ali's paper - 'clinches it. Grogan's
dining here to-night, isn't he?'

'Yes, sir, and Macklin too.'

'Very good. I'll speak to them myself. The matter will be
referred to the Council, of course, but this is a case where one
is justified in assuming that we take action at once. Warn the
Pined and Peshawar brigades. It will disorganize all the summer
reliefs, but we can't help that. This comes of not smashing them
thoroughly the first time. Eight thousand should be enough.

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