A man in khaki stepped into the moonlight. He was so nearly the
image of Athelstan King that Ismail and Darya Khan stood up and stared.
Athelstan strode to meet him. Their walk was the same. Angle for
angle, line for line, they might have been one man and his shadow,
except for three-quarters of an inch of stature.

"Glad to see you, old man," said Athelstan.

"Sure, old chap!" said Charles; and they shook hands.

"What's the desperate proposal?" asked the younger.

"I'll tell you when we are alone."

His brother nodded and stood a step aside. The three who had taken
the note to the fort came closer--partly to call attention to
themselves, partly to claim credit, partly because the outer silence
frightened them. They elbowed Ismail and Darya Khan, and one of
them received a savage blow in the stomach by way of retort from
Ismail. Before that spark could start an explosion Athelstan interfered.

"Ismail! Take two men. Go down the Pass out of car-shot, and keep
watch! Come back when I whistle thus--but no sooner!"

He put fingers between his teeth and blew until the night shrilled
back at him. Ismail seized the leather bag and started to obey.

"Leave that bag. Leave it, I say!"

"But some man may steal it, sahib. How shall a thief know there