"And the Persians a hamrah, eh? There was an American here
lately--merry fellow--and I was learning his language. Side partner's
the word in the States. I can imagine a worse side partner than
that same man Rewa Gunga--much worse."

"He told me just now," said King, "that Yasmini went up the Pass
unescorted, mounted on a mare the very dead spit of the black one
you say you wanted to buy."

Courtenay whistled.

"I'm sorry, King. I'm sorry to say he lied."

"Will you come and listen while I have it out with him?"

"Certainly."

King threw away his less-than-half-consumed cheroot and they started
to walk together toward King's camp. After a few minutes they
arrived at a point from which they could see the prisoners lined
up in a row facing Rewa Gunga. A less experienced eye than King's or
Courtenay's could have recognized their attitude of reverent obedience.

"He'll make a good adjutant for you, that man," said Courtenay; but
King only grunted.

At sight of them Ismail left the line and came hurrying toward them
with long mountainman's strides.

"Tell Rewa Gunga sahib that I wish to speak to him!" King called,