our prowling rascals you saw, and when he comes back I'll teach him to
come spying on us. If I know anything of the rattan, he won't do
it again."

Hayle shrugged his shoulders. While the fact that their servants were
not at the camp to anticipate their return was certainly suspicious, he
was still as convinced as ever that the man he had seen slipping through
the ruins was no Burman, but a true son of the Celestial Empire.

Worn out by the excitement of the day, Kitwater anathematized the
servants for not having been there to prepare the evening meal, but
while he and Hayle wrangled, Mr. Codd had as usual taken the matter into
his own hands, and, picking up a cooking-pot, had set off in the
direction of the stream, whence they drew their supply of water. He had
not proceeded very far, however, before he uttered a cry and came
running back to the camp. There was a scared expression upon his face as
he rejoined his companions.

"They've not run away," he cried, pointing in the direction whence he
had come. "They're dead!"

"Dead?" cried Kitwater and Hayle together. Then the latter added, "What
do you mean by that?"

"What I say," Codd replied. "They're both lying in the jungle back
there with their throats cut."

"Then I was right after all," Hayle found time to put in. "Come, Kit,
let us go and see. There's more than we bargained for at the back of
all this."