by, pondering on his ill-fortune. Not until the sun had set and village
cattle began to file in from pasture, did he cast one lingering look
on the scene of his childhood and walk away with a sigh, whither no
one cared to inquire.

A week later, however, Karim strode into Chandra Babu's office
attended by two friends, and counted out ten ten-rupee notes, which
he handed to the moneylender, with a peremptory request to release
his chattels at once. Chandra Babu was greatly surprised by the turn
matters had taken, but he was not the man to let property slip from
his clutches. So he asked Santi whether the debtor did not owe a bill
of costs. The manager referred to his books and declared that Rs. 33
8. 0. were still due. Karim planked down the money without further
ado and asked for a receipt, which Santi reluctantly gave him. Then
he again demanded the immediate release of his property. On receiving
an evasive answer, he remarked that Chandra Babu would hear from him
shortly and left the office.

About a month later, Chandra Babu was aroused from sleep in the
dead of night by shouts coming from his inner courtyard. He jumped
up and popped his head out of the window, but withdrew it hastily
on seeing twenty or thirty men running about his premises, with
lighted torches, and shouting--"Loot! loot!" Paralysed by fear, he
crawled under the bed and lay in breathless expectation of further
developments. Presently the door was forced open, and a crowd poured
into the room. Chandra Babu's hiding place was soon discovered by
the dacoits (gang robbers), who dragged him out by the legs and
demanded his keys on pain of instant death. Seeing a rusty talwár
(sword) flourished within an inch of his throat, the unhappy man at
once produced them, whereon the dacoits opened his safe and took out