The old man halted by Zam-Zammah and looked round till his eye
fell on Kim. The inspiration of his pilgrimage had left him for
awhile, and he felt old, forlorn, and very empty.

'Do not sit under that gun,' said the policeman loftily.

'Huh! Owl!' was Kim's retort on the lama's behalf. 'Sit under that
gun if it please thee. When didst thou steal the milkwoman's
slippers, Dunnoo?'

That was an utterly unfounded charge sprung on the spur of the
moment, but it silenced Dunnoo, who knew that Kim's clear yell
could call up legions of bad bazaar boys if need arose.

'And whom didst thou worship within?' said Kim affably, squatting
in the shade beside the lama.

'I worshipped none, child. I bowed before the Excellent Law.'

Kim accepted this new God without emotion. He knew already a few
score.

'And what dost thou do?'

'I beg. I remember now it is long since I have eaten or drunk.
What is the custom of charity in this town? In silence, as we do
of Tibet, or speaking aloud?'

'Those who beg in silence starve in silence,' said Kim, quoting a