"Sahib!" he called. "Sahib!"

King waited. He had waited for this very thing and could afford
to wait a minute longer.

"Hast thou--is there--does the sahib--I have not tasted--"

He made a sign with his hand that men recognize in pretty nearly
every land under the sun.

"So-ho!" laughed King, patting his hip pocket, from which the cap
of a silver-topped flask had been protruding ever since he put the
pistol out of sight. "So our copper's hot, eh?"

"May Allah do more to me if my throat is not lined with the fires
of Eblis!"

"But the Kalamullah!" King objected. "What saith the Prophet?"

"The Prophet forbade the faithful to drink wine," said the jezailchi.
"He said nothing about whiskey, that I ever heard!"

"Mine is brandy," said King.

"May Allah bless the sahib's sons and grandsons to the seventh
generation! May Allah--"

"Tell me about Yasmini first! Where is she?"

"Nay!"